He got to his feet, towering over her. He framed her face in his big, lean hands. “All the color would go out of the world, Clancey,” he said in a husky, deep tone. “And I’d mourn you for the rest of my life. Which, frankly, wouldn’t be that long. I don’t want to live in a world that doesn’t contain you, too.”

Hot tears stung her eyes. “You never...”

His mouth was warm and slow and hungry on her lips, stopping the words before they could get out. She didn’t want to talk anyway. She reached up to him, to be lifted and kissed to within an inch of her life. She held on, moaning softly as the kiss went into depths of feeling she’d never imagined.

He groaned, too. But he finally drew back.

“We have to work,” he ground out.

She nodded and reached up to kiss him again.

His heart was hammering in his chest. “This isn’t appropriate behavior for people in an office,” he tried again.

She nodded a second time and kissed him harder.

“Oh, the hell with it,” he bit off, and kissed her back.

She saw Darrell Tarley, who was as relieved as she was to be rid of the threat of Morris. He did take the case pro bono, and she was appointed executrix of not only her grandfather’s estate, but of Morris’s, as well. Nothing was left of her grandfather’s few possessions, but Morris had quite a few expensive things. Clancey took down the serial numbers and called them in to Cal Hollister to see if they were stolen. At least two were, and she turned them over to the police.

Meanwhile, Colter invited her and Tad down to the ranch for Thanksgiving, adding that he’d also invited Cal Hollister. Brenda was there, too, and also the Martins, who’d been given a lift with Brenda.

It was a delightful, uproarious meal. Clancey and Cal had prepared it all themselves, to applause and delight as turkey and all the accompaniments were served up. Cal had done the turkey and dressing and gravy at home, so he just packed it up and carried it over to the ranch. Clancey did homemade rolls and potato salad and green beans. Colter had brought two pies home from the bakery in San Antonio. It was a big meal.

After lunch, Colter took Clancey riding and they dismounted near a stream on the ranch and he tied up the horses. He took Clancey to a grassy spot and sat her down.

He took a box out of his pocket and put it in her hands. It was a jeweler’s box. Small and pretty, made of polished wood.

“It isn’t expensive,” he said quietly. “Even with the ranch, I’m not a wealthy man. But it’s the best I could get.”