She smiled warmly. “Yes.”

She climbed into her little car, waved and drove off.

“I HEAR YOU’RE going off to eat with that McGuire feller,” Bill teased as they watched one of Mina’s part-timers work a filly in the corral.

She gaped at him. “I just talked to him yesterday, and I didn’t tell anybody.”

“It’s Catelow,” he told her. “Small town, big ears. And your hostess can’t keep her mouth shut, either,” he added with a chuckle. “Made her feel good, playing matchmaker, I hear.”

“It’s not like that,” she said softly. “Jake’s a terrific person, but I don’t feel that way about him.”

“Shame,” he said with a sigh. “He’s got all the money in the world.”

“Money is how we keep score when we’re doing a job we love,” she said lazily. “I don’t care what I’ve got, as long as I can pay the bills. We’re doing great here,” she added with pride. “Cousin Rogan won’t have to supplement us in a few months.”

“No, he won’t, the way your book is selling,” Bill said with quiet pride. “You’re on your way to fame.”

She wrinkled her nose. “As long as it’s distant fame, I don’t mind. I’d hate to be one of those people who’s on magazine covers and tabloid covers all the time, so they’re recognized everywhere they go. It would be like living outdoors in the city, with people watching everything you do. I’d go nuts. I love it here.” She looked around at the towering distant mountains with their snow-covered peaks, the buttes closer to the ranch that curved gracefully on the horizon. “This has to be the most beautiful place on Earth.”

“I’d agree,” he said. He frowned. “Jake McGuire’s a great catch,” he began.

“Money isn’t enough. I’m holding out for a man I can love.”

“Yes, Miss Mina, but you don’t date anybody,” he returned gently. “Never going to find a husband that way.”

“Not sure I want one.”

He turned his attention back to the corral. “Had a call from your cousin Rogan earlier today.”

“Was he looking for me? I had my phone cut off while I was at the Simpsons’…”

“Sort of.”

“Sort of?”

“He’s heard from your father,” he said.

Her face tautened. Once, when her mother was alive and she was younger, she’d wanted badly to keep in touch with her parent. But her mother had told her father that Mina hated him for leaving and never wanted to talk to him again. As the years passed, however, and she suffered her mother’s incessant lovers, the lie had become truth. Her father had deserted her, left her to the torment her mother had given her. She blamed him, because his desertion had caused most of her pain.

“I don’t want to hear from him,” she said flatly. “Not ever again.”

He hesitated for just a minute. “You sure? It’s been fifteen years, you know.”

She bit her lower lip.

“There’s something he wants to tell you,” he said finally.