On Saturday, Harlan fussed over every detail as the time for guests to start arriving neared. Maritza was beginning to mutter in Spanish, her tone suggesting it would be far better if he didn’t try to translate. Her cousin Consuela, who’d been the original housekeeper at White Pines until Luke had lured her off to his ranch, finally backed him out the kitchen door by waving a dish towel in his face.

“Go, go. You stay out now,” she ordered, barring the doorway. “You are only in the way in here.”

“Damn, but you’re bossy,” he grumbled affectionately. “Who’s running that house of Luke’s? You or him?”

Her dark eyes flashed fire. “You remember that I can walk out before this affair of yours begins,” she threatened, her own tone just as fond. “I will take Maritza and the others with me. How will you manage then, señor?”

“With my charm,” he quipped.

She turned her gaze toward heaven as if praying for patience. “It will not feed this crowd you have invited,” she reminded him. “Now, go and talk with your sons or play with your grandbabies.”

“I’ll go out and check to see if the tent’s set up right,” he said.

“No,” she ordered at once. “The men have everything under control.” She tilted her head at him. “I do not recall you making such a fuss over details in the past. This party is important to you?”

He nodded, feeling sheepish. “Silly, huh? We must have thrown a hundred parties in this house, but this is the first time I’ve ever been a wreck.”

Consuela’s expression sobered at once. “It is because you no longer have Mary by your side,” she said sorrowfully. “I should have thought, Señor Harlan. You must miss her very much at a time like this.”

That was part of it, he supposed. But he’d come to terms with his loss in the past few months. Though he was likely to miss Mary until the end of his days, he had moved on. No, this sense that he was standing at the edge of a precipice and that the slightest misstep would send him over was due to another woman entirely.

“No,” he corrected softly. “It is because I want everything to be perfect tonight.”

Consuela’s eyes widened. “For the señorita, yes?” At his startled look, she explained, “Rosa told me she has seen you together in town many times and then Luke and Jessie described meeting her. They say your eyes light up when you are in the same room. You care for this woman?”

He nodded, even though that was a pale description of his feelings. “Deeply,” he admitted.

“Then Maritza and I will see that this party impresses her. Leave it to us, okay?”

He grinned. “Do I have any choice?”

“No,” she conceded, and disappeared into the kitchen from which she had just banished him.