“Cows and donkeys and chickens.” Jenna stared at the sheriff. “What does one do with them besides milk them or eat them?”

The sheriff laughed, a clear, melodic laugh that made Jenna think of water rushing in a crystal brook. Oh, yes, she was very attractive. Funny, though, the sheriff’s lush good looks seemed to pale in comparison to Gard’s. And we’re not going there again, are we?

“Pretend I’m clueless,” Jenna said, “which obviously I am.”

“They’re probably pets at this point,” Rina said, still smiling, “None of them would be much for eating unless you were desperate.”

“I can see this is going to be a lot more involved than I thought. I’ll have to look at the house after talking to the attorney. I suppose I can get an agent to handle the sale of the estate.” Jenna rubbed her eyes. “What about the animals? Will they be all right without someone there?”

Rina’s face registered surprise and then what might have been respect. “I asked a couple of the neighbors to look after them, but you’ll want to decide what to do about them too.”

“Of course. Thanks for doing that.” One thing Jenna knew about country folk—even the laziest, most irresponsible among them—would pitch in to help a neighbor in need, because community was more than a concept. People were raised knowing the next person in trouble might be them. “I still can’t really believe I’m here. I have no idea why Elizabeth left all of this to me.”

“Elizabeth was no fool. She must have had a reason. Maybe intuition.”

“Intuition. I guess we’ll find out.” Jenna grinned wryly just as the roar of an engine cut through the quiet and a truck tore down the lane, spewing gravel and leaving a cloud of dust behind it. Gard slammed to a stop beside the sheriff’s cruiser and jumped out, leaving the door ajar as she sprinted toward the house. Beam shot out after her and raced in circles around Gard’s long legs.

“Jenna,” Gard charged up the four steps to the porch two at a time, “are you all right?”

“Yes.” Jenna rose carefully on her sore leg, feeling unaccustomedly shy. Beam skidded to a stop between her and Rina, her butt rotating as her tail cut wild figure eights in the air. Jenna scratched behind the dog’s ears and used the diversion to enjoy her first look at Gard in daylight. She’d been gorgeous by moonlight. She was heart-stopping now in dusty jeans cut low on lean hips, scuffed boots, and a blue work shirt unbuttoned to the middle of her flat abdomen. The white T-shirt underneath hugged the shadow of her breasts like the snow capping the distant peaks—alluring and ever so remote. Her thick black hair lay in damp swirls on the tanned skin at the back of her neck. Jenna’s throat went suddenly dry. “I’m fine.”

“Okay. Good. That’s good. I saw the cruiser…” Gard slid her hands into her back pockets and rocked on her heels. “What’s going on?”

Rina said, “I’ve just been talking to Ms. Hardy about making arrangements for Elizabeth’s place.”

“I realize now there’s more to it than signing a few papers,” Jenna said. “The house can wait, but I want to make sure the animals—”

“I’ll take care of that,” Gard said. “I was planning to run out there and check on them after we got you settled at the motel.”

“No,” Jenna said quickly. “You don’t need to. You’ve been wonderful, but I’m sure you’ve got plenty to do with your own job.”

Rina’s gaze swiveled between Gard and Jenna as if she were waiting for the serve on match point in the finals of a Grand Slam tennis tournament. “I’m heading back through town. If you need a ride—”

“I’ll take her,” Gard said forcefully.

“If the sheriff is going that way—” Jenna protested.

“It’s no trouble.” Gard paced a few steps and fixed Jenna with an intense stare. “We can run by the Hardy place on the way. See what might need to be done before you talk to Sherm.”

Jenna couldn’t argue the logic, but she still wanted to. She didn’t let anyone take charge of her life, not even Alice. Alice was her detail woman, true, and she did more than organize her schedule. Alice was the wall between Jenna and the rest of the world, the buffer between her and the outside forces that disrupted her concentration and made it hard for her to work. Alice wielded more power than Jenna had ever granted anyone, even her occasional serious lovers, but not even Alice crossed beyond the barriers Jenna had erected around her body and her soul.

Gard Davis didn’t even seem to recognize those barriers, or if she did, she didn’t care. She shouldered past them, steamrolled over them, while insisting on being part of Jenna’s life as if Jenna had no say whatsoever. The intrusion irritated her, but she resisted the urge to argue, and not just because she didn’t want to expose herself in front of Rina Gold. Part of her, maybe a bigger part than she wanted to face right now, liked Gard’s arrogant chivalry. She would never have asked for Gard’s help, but Gard didn’t seem to need an invitation.

Until this moment, Alice had been the only one in her life who put her first, who cared about her welfare more than about what she could get from pretending to care for her. For all of that, Alice had never looked at her with the consuming intensity Gard did. Alice loved her as a friend, and sometimes, possibly—more. But even Alice didn’t care for the fragile places in her heart because Jenna didn’t let her. If she had, she knew Alice would be there for her. She wasn’t offering those vulnerable places to Gard, either, but Gard didn’t seem to need permission to cross boundaries. She just did it. Jenna had never really met anyone like her before.

“You’re sure you have time?” Jenna asked. Spending a little more time with Gard wasn’t exactly a hardship, especially when the alternative was sitting in the motel.

“Positive.” Gard jiggled her truck keys in her pants pockets while watching the war wage across Jenna’s face. She thought she knew why. Jenna was independent, even more independent than the farmers and ranchers she bumped shoulders with every day in the quiet countryside. She hadn’t thought there could be anyone more independent than these people who prided themselves on doing for themselves and living by their own rules. But Jenna was. She didn’t want help from anyone, as if help were a sign of weakness. As if letting anyone ease her way would somehow lessen her. She had shadows under her eyes this morning, and although she probably wasn’t even aware of it, she was favoring her injured leg. Strain lines marred the smooth skin around her eyes and at the corners of her mouth. She was exhausted and in pain but ignoring both. Knowing that made Gard’s insides twist and her chest hurt. She wanted to take away that pain. She’d never had the desire, the need, to do that with another woman. The strangeness of it jangled her nerves. “Look, we should get going.”

“All right. Fine.” Jenna knew she sounded ungracious, but God, the woman taxed her patience.

“I’ll get your things when you’re ready,” Gard said, needing to move. Needing to do something to burn off the restless energy that was always with her but magnified a thousand times in Jenna’s presence. She wanted to touch her. She wanted to catch the scent of flowers and sweet spice again. “Then we’ll head into town so you can get settled in at the motel.”

“I want to see the Hardy property first,” Jenna said.

“Your call.”

“I’ll go pack.” Jenna held out her hand to the sheriff. “It was nice to meet you. Thank you for the help at Elizabeth’s.”

“Anything you need while you’re here, just let me know,” Rina said. “I take it, then, you’ll be staying a few days?”

“It sounds like I’ll need more than just a few days,” Jenna said. “Maybe a few weeks.”

“Really,” the sheriff said dryly, her gaze shifting to Gard.

Curiosity flickered in the sheriff’s eyes, and Jenna wondered what misconception the sheriff had about her and Gard. If she thought the two of them were anything other than acquaintances, she was way off base. She and Gard had nothing in common and practically everything at odds. If anything, the sheriff should have noticed that they could barely have a conversation without irritating each other. Besides, she should hardly pose a threat to a beautiful woman like Rina Gold, who obviously had more than just a friendly interest in the local vet. Jenna had no trouble at all imagining Gard and Rina together, and the instant she did, the flare of possessiveness hit her so hard she almost gasped out loud. This wasn’t like her. She just wasn’t the possessive type. She rarely indulged in a relationship long enough to have any feelings for her dates other than fondness. Jealousy? Never. Possessiveness? Irrelevant. She hadn’t even kissed Gard Davis, and the thought of another woman touching her made her blood run hot.

“I’ll just need a few minutes. Good-bye, Sheriff.” Jenna quickly ducked inside, needing to put distance between herself and Gard. And Rina Gold. Whatever was between Gard and the beautiful sheriff did not concern her.

As she climbed the stairs as quickly as her aching knee allowed, leaving Gard alone with Rina, she refused to consider why every step she took was more difficult than plodding through quicksand.

Chapter Eleven

“How’s the knee?” Gard asked when they were settled in the front seat of her truck.

“Much better.” Jenna rolled down the window as Gard pulled out onto the road. The thick, sultry air felt more like July than June, the kind of hot, hazy day she associated with skinny-dipping in placid ponds, hiding away in the shade of a huge maple with a book, and relaxing in twilights resonant with the sound of distant thunder. She’d lost touch with those pleasures all these years living in the city, where the summer brought only the pungent stench of automobile fumes, trash left out too long, and throngs of humanity coursing over the steaming sidewalks like schools of fish fleeing for their lives.

“Sorry there’s no air-conditioning,” Gard said.

“Don’t be. I hate it.”

“Me too.” Gard slowed as a string of geese with goslings scampering behind waddled haphazardly across the road. “You might feel differently in August, though.”

“I can remember putting ice cubes on my chest to fall asleep some summer nights,” Jenna said, laughing.

“Inventive.” Gard imagined Jenna as she would appear now, nude in the moonlight with trails of cool clear water streaming between her breasts and over the curve of her abdomen to pool on the soft white sheets tangled around her hips. Her skin gleamed with reflections of starlight and Gard saw herself leaning down to brush her mouth over the glimmering diamond ice chips. Lust kicked in her belly and she jerked her thoughts away from the fantasy. “I notice you forgot the immobilizer today.”

“You do realize it’s hateful?”

“I’ve had the pleasure.” Gard smiled.

“Then you know why I’m not wearing it.” Jenna liked Gard’s smile, the way her lips canted up at one corner, softening the angular planes of her face and hinting at a dark sensuality she found hard to ignore. Gard had changed while in the house, and now she wore a pressed button-down tucked into charcoal work pants. Her boots were still the same low-heeled scuffed farm boots, and a tooled brown belt encircled her waist. Her wrists and hands below the rolled-up sleeves of the crisp white shirt were faintly corded and darkly tanned. If she hadn’t seen Gard’s elegant, stately house, she might have been surprised at the pressed and starched shirt. Gard had to be sending her shirts out to be done. Not exactly what she would have expected from the usual country vet, but nothing thus far was ordinary about Gard. She remembered Alice’s comment that Gard’s name had rung a bell.

“Where are you from?”

The smile disappeared and Gard’s jaw tightened. Another sensitive spot for the enigmatic doctor—so attentive one second, and so distant the next. Someone else might not have noticed, but Jenna made it her business to notice the small details that revealed feelings and moods. She’d learned to watch people for the subtle signs of tempers about to snap after the first time a hand she hadn’t seen coming had struck out and landed on her face. Darlene hadn’t resorted to physical violence very often, but once had been enough to teach Jenna to be vigilant. She’d been lucky. She’d taken those lessons and turned them around, just like she’d turned her life around, and made them into something she could trust. She’d become an expert people watcher. Being a writer, much of what she conveyed about her characters was through the nuances of expression, and she’d learned to trust the signals others gave off unconsciously. She had to if she wanted to be safe.