“You betcha. Are you hitching a ride here with someone so she doesn’t see your truck and get spooked?”

Apparently, he and Jenna were on the same page. And the fact that she didn’t question why he wanted to see Rachel told him a whole lot about what Jenna knew of their relationship. “I’m on my way to the Bindermans’ now.” He was all set with a tall tale about the broken suspension on his truck not being able to handle the Sorentinos’ dirt road so Lisa didn’t get suspicious.

The phone practically vibrated with the sound of Jenna’s belly laugh. “I like you, Vaughn. I think the plans you and I are cooking up have a lot in common.”

“I think you’re right. Which brings me to the second thing I need your help with.” He glanced at the stack of pastry boxes on the passenger seat. “About that cake tasting. Is there room in the mix for one more dessert?”

* * *

Two hours later, the Bindermans’ minivan pulled into the gravel driveway of the Sorentinos’ sprawling white and yellow ranch house. The porch was little more than a black gash of burnt wood that streaked up to the wood siding of the second story. He’d learned from the firefighters after the fact that the house hadn’t suffered any structural damage from the fire, only water damage to the front room from their efforts to douse the flames.

Vaughn scanned for any sign of Rachel before crawling out of the backseat. The only folks in sight were Douglas Dixon and Kellan’s mom, Tina, who were rocking lazily on a swing in the yard, cans of cola in their hands and looking awfully cozy.

“Hi, you two. Nice day to sit outside.” He opened the back of the minivan and filled his arms with pastry boxes.

“Sure is,” Douglas said. “Good to see you under happy circumstances, Sheriff.”

A large brown cow wearing ribbons and flowers and a huge bandana around its neck chose that moment to trot around from behind the stable. The Bindermans’ six-year-old daughter, Daisy, squealed and intercepted it. The bizarreness of the cow’s get-up had him shaking his head as much as its behavior.

“What’s up with the cow in the costume? It has Kellan’s brand on it.”

Douglas and Tina burst out laughing. Chris was busy unhooking their baby, Rowen, from his car seat, but Lisa went around the back of the minivan to unload all her mommy bags filled with diapers and God-knows-what. “That’s Tulip,” she said.

“She’s Amy’s pet,” Tina added.

Okay. “To each his own, I guess.”

“It started last December, when Tulip wandered over from Kellan’s ranch,” Douglas said. “Rachel wanted to slaughter it for steaks, but Amy welcomed her with open arms like it was a member of the family. She took to dressing it up, just to drive Rachel bonkers.”

Vaughn peered at Douglas from around the stack of pastry boxes in his arms. “Did it work?”

“Like a cactus needle in a cat’s behind.”

He grinned, imagining Rachel’s righteous indignation.

“I think she’s kinda cute,” Lisa said.

Chris met them, his stride a funky waddle due to the baby pouch on his chest. Rowen stretched his arms out and babbled at the cow. Chris scratched Rowen’s floppy blond hair, then slung an arm around his wife. “I don’t know, honey. I’m with Rachel. I think it looks like dinner.”

Vaughn had met Chris and Lisa through Kellan many years ago. They were, hands down, the kindest, most even-keeled people Vaughn knew, if not the squarest. They’d settled into the roles of mom and dad so naturally and contentedly, it was like they’d been born parents-in-waiting—early to bed, no vices, and vocabularies free of curse words for as long as anyone remembered.

Early on, Vaughn had embraced a plan to live out his life as the fun uncle to his sister’s kids, mostly because the idea of having his own scared the snot out of him. But if he could make things right with Rachel, and she wanted to start a family, he’d agree in a heartbeat, even if he didn’t have it in him to drive a minivan or wear a baby pouch. Then again, he was going to do something today he never thought he would, so who’s to say what the future held?

Jenna skipped out the kitchen door and down the steps. “Oh, good. You’re here. Inside, quick. Plan’s right on schedule.”

She took the top two pies and raced toward the house.

Lisa fell in line with Vaughn, tugging Daisy with her. “What plan?”

Vaughn mustered a casual shrug. “Cake tasting, I think.”

“I’m still confused. How did you get roped into bringing pies to a cake tasting?” she asked.

“Happy to help.” He evaded her attempt to look him in the eye, knowing all too well about women’s uncanny ability to read people’s faces, especially moms. At the base of the stairs, he stepped aside and swept his arm out, motioning for her, Daisy, and Chris to precede him up inside.

Jenna stood in one corner of the sprawling kitchen, arranging cakes and pies on plates and platters, while Amy, Kellan, Ben, and another man Vaughn vaguely recognized as a local hovered around the television in the kitchen, debating an umpire’s call. They turned from the TV to exchange hugs and handshakes with Lisa, Chris, and the kids, while Vaughn skirted the crowd to deliver the rest of the pies to Jenna.

“Is she here yet?” he whispered.

“No. She’s been gone since before dawn, out on her horse, but I threatened to give her hell if she didn’t show up for the cake tasting, so we’ll see. I’ll give her a few more minutes, then text her that we have an emergency. That ought to bring her home fast.”

Vaughn nodded. Someone slapped him on the back and he turned to see Kellan.

His expression was jumpy, anxious even. “Hey. I didn’t expect to see you today.”

“Change of plans. I got a ride with Chris and Lisa.” He cocked his head to the side. He was usually good about reading Kellan’s moods, but this one had him stumped. Was he worried about Rachel’s reaction to his surprise appearance? “Everything okay?”

“Sure, yeah. Beer’s in a cooler in the dining room. I was about to get myself another one, so I’ll show you where they are.”

He had the odd feeling Kellan was hustling him out of the kitchen on purpose, and eyed the semifamiliar man before pushing through the swinging door to the dining room, wondering why Kellan hadn’t introduced them. As opposed to Ben’s lanky, youthful frame, the other man was pushing forty and wearing a heavy flannel plaid shirt and a mustache. He stared his way until the door swung closed.

The dining room was even larger than the kitchen and set up as a rustic country restaurant, with two long, weathered wood communal tables and bench seating. In one corner of the room, Matt Roenick sat playing Candyland with Jenna’s boy, Tommy. Daisy hovered over them, her six-year-old motor mouth rattling on about her favorite candies.

“Hey, Vaughn,” Matt said. Vaughn crossed the room and shook his hand. They’d known each other as acquaintances through Kellan for a lot of years, and it threw Vaughn off to see him sitting with kids playing a kid game.

Ten years ago, Sunday barbecues were all about football and steaks and a bunch of guys drinking beer. But now, Sundays were more about togetherness and family more than anything else. He liked the change. It felt right and good, like they were finally growing up and getting a clue as to what really mattered in life.

“What changed your mind about today?” Kellan asked under his breath when Vaughn returned to the beer cooler along the wall.

“I was promised cake.” He selected an amber lager from a brewery near Santa Fe and sloughed the ice from the bottle. Kellan handed him an opener. “Would Amy really have turned into a bridezilla if I hadn’t shown up today?”

With a snort, Kellan snagged a beer. “No. Who fed you that line? Wait—don’t tell me. Only Jenna could make that sound believable.”

“That she did.” Vaughn passed him the opener. “Who was the guy in the kitchen?”

Kellan popped his beer open and took a swig. “That’s Ben Torrey. He’s a great guy. I think you’ve met him before. Used to work for me at Slipping Rock. Rachel getting shot and being out of commission was a wake-up call for Amy and Jenna. They got it straight in their heads how much Rachel does around here, so they surprised her by hiring a foreman. I hated to lose him, but his heart wasn’t in cattle ranching. He’s a farmer through and through, just like Rachel. He’s going to help her reestablish the alfalfa crop.”

Vaughn took a hit of beer, annoyed that he still felt a stab of envy every time Rachel’s name was mentioned in conjunction with another man’s. Since when was he the irrationally possessive type? To prove he could overcome his burgeoning caveman mentality, he asked, “He and Rachel getting along good?”

“Real well. He’s a great fit here. He’s moving into the main house this month until we can set him up in his own place on the property.”

Well, goddamn. Now the guy was going to be living with her. He took another hit of beer, scowling. “Who’s the other guy in the kitchen? I didn’t recognize him. Does he work here now too?”

Kellan rubbed a hand on his neck, looking uncomfortable. “That’s Howard Keibler. He works on Douglas’s son’s farm.”

“What’s he doing here?” Vaughn asked.

“Haven’t you heard?” Lisa asked, sidling in to nab her own beer. “Amy’s on a matchmaking warpath. It’s her new mission in life to have everyone romantically attached in time for the wedding.”

Yikes. “Poor Jenna.”

Lisa leaned in toward Vaughn. “Howard’s not here for Jenna. Amy thinks he’d be a great match for Rachel. And I agree.”

Vaughn nearly choked. Why hadn’t Kellan warned him that Amy was setting Rachel up with some dweeb local farmer right under his nose? He swallowed hard and looked to his friend, who was suddenly mesmerized by one of the photographs on the wall. One of Rachel’s, no doubt. The fake-innocent look on his face made Vaughn want to punch him in the nose.

He chugged half his beer down before he was calm enough to speak. Then he schooled his features as best he could. “Rachel okay with that?” he asked Lisa stupidly, hoping no one caught the shrill edge in his voice.

Kellan finally dared to look at him. “Not sure. I didn’t know about it until his truck pulled into the yard a half hour ago. But I bet you twenty bucks Rachel doesn’t even show up today.”

Was that his way of appeasing Vaughn? Nice try. “I’m not going to bet you that.”

“I will,” Jenna said, strong arming her way into the conversation. She stuck her hand out at Kellan. “Twenty bucks says Rachel’s here by the time supper hits the table.”

After a moment’s hesitation, Kellan shook her hand. “You’re on.”

Vaughn had total faith that Jenna would make sure Rachel appeared, even though he had trouble believing they were still working together on the same plan, given that she hadn’t seen fit to give him a heads-up about this Keibler guy. What the hell kind of name was Howard Keibler anyway?

“Get me in on this,” Lisa said. “I’ll double the bet that she not only shows up, but she agrees to a date with Howard before the night’s through. Rachel is way overdue for some fun in her life.”

“What do you think, Vaughn?” Jenna asked. “Do you think Howard and Rachel would make a great match?” She had a goading look in her eyes, and he had half a mind to believe she was daring him into challenging Keibler to a duel over Rachel.

And maybe he would, if Keibler lay a finger on her. His S&W was fully loaded in his shoulder holster. He rolled his shoulder blade and comforted himself with the feel of the heavy steel. “I’m not even going to touch that topic,” he muttered, grabbing a second beer.

Too horrified to think straight, and still contemplating that duel, he plowed through the kitchen door to get a better look at the man all the women in the house seemed to think was a perfect match for the woman he loved.

* * *

For possibly the first time in her life, Rachel had no appetite for barbecued ribs, even though the smell drifting over the stable yard was divine. She stood in the stable, giving Growly Bear a final rubdown, grimacing in memory of the trucks and cars parked in their driveway that indicated her house was full to the brim with people. After dropping the grooming supplies in the bucket, she led Growly to his stall, knowing there was nothing she could do to weasel out of attending the party.

Amy, in her hapless quest to fix Rachel up on a date, had burst into her room the night before with new outfits from the Fashion Diva Outpost, Nancy Tobarro’s shop. Two wispy, flowery dresses and a belted red sweater with leggings ensemble she swore looked great with boots. Rachel had tried explaining that she didn’t want any man who wouldn’t accept her as she was, but what a fiasco that turned into because Amy’s response had been, “So, then you dowant a man. I knew it!”