Jenna tugged on her arm and Gard half leaned out the window. Hell, she felt like Beam, just wanting to breathe the same air as Jenna. Could she be any more pitiful? “We’ve got a lot of them.”

“Okay. Out of the truck.”

“What? Why?”

“We’re going down to the barn, and I’m not going by myself.”

Gard laughed. “There’s nothing to be afraid of.”

“I didn’t say I was afraid. I’m just…cautious.”

“All right.”

“And I still say it’s very thoughtful of you.” Jenna stepped back and before Gard could climb down, Beam shot out, ran twice around Jenna, then threw herself down in front of her, panting to be petted. Laughing, Jenna scratched behind her ears while Gard got her flashlight from a box behind the seat.

Gard held out her hand. “The track to the barn is pretty rutted. Watch your footing.”

Jenna hesitated for a second, then took Gard’s hand. Their fingers fit easily together. “Thanks.”

“What are you doing here so late?” Gard played the light over the worn dirt path that ran around the side of the house, past the back porch, and down toward the barns. The grass in the front yard needed cutting and her pants legs were quickly soaked with night dew.

“I wanted to get another look at the paintings before contacting an appraiser. Alice suggested I take some photographs to send along by e-mail.” Jenna hugged Gard’s arm to her side, leaning into her as they walked.

“Your leg okay?” Gard asked. Jenna wasn’t limping, but she wouldn’t—even if the knee was killing her. Jenna didn’t court sympathy or help. Thinking of her in pain made Gard’s stomach knot, and she wanted to slide her arm around her. Another excuse to touch her, and if she did, she’d just want more. Hell, she was like a horse in a grain bucket, unable to stop even though it was going to hurt later. She needed a dose of reality. “Where is Alice?”

“She’s on her computer back at the Peeper, taking care of some urgent business. I’m not her only client and she pretty much dropped everything to come up here.” Jenna laughed. “That motel is growing on me, which definitely means it’s time to get out of there.”

“She’s staying with you?” Gard tried to sound casual, but the picture of Jenna and Alice sharing intimate quarters sent the hornets buzzing out of her belly and into her blood. Christ, she needed some sleep or a drink. Something to calm the hell down.

“She cancelled her reservation at the inn.” Jenna laughed. “Said it was too far to drive, but I think she just wanted to share my pain.”

“That was nice of her.”

“Yes, it was.”

An eerie howl rose, followed by another, then another, finally culminating in a chorus of song. The piercing notes rang sharply on the still night air and Jenna pressed closer.

“Is that them?”

“Mmm-hmm. Pretty, isn’t it.” Gard slid her arm around Jenna’s shoulder and the embrace felt…right. “They’re harmless, you know. They won’t approach people.”

“What about the animals? The cows? Fred and Myrtle?”

Gard squeezed her gently. “Coyotes won’t fool with the large stock. The chickens are a different story, but they’ll usually head into their coop at night.”

“I certainly hope so.”

“Stay here.” Gard quickly checked the barn and attached shelters. The cows and donkeys were settled for the night. When she shined her light into the row of coops off to one side, she was rewarded for her concern by disgruntled cackles. Rejoining Jenna she said, “Everybody’s tucked in.”

“I really appreciate this,” Jenna said as they turned back up the path. “I’ll have to add finding some part-time help to my to-do list.”

“I know some of the teenagers in the local 4-H. Any of them would be glad to pitch in for a few bucks. I’ll get you their numbers tomorrow.”

“You’re a lifesaver.”

Gard grimaced. “Not so you’d notice.”

“Are you just finishing work?”

“Yes.”

“That’s an awfully long day for you.”

“Longer than I expected.”

“Have you had dinner?”

“No.”

“I’ve been getting things organized over here today.” Jenna grasped Gard’s hand. “The refrigerator and freezer are stocked with food. Let me make you something to eat. It’s the least I can do after you came all the way out here.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“I know I don’t, but I want to. Let me repay your kindness.”

“I thought you said you didn’t cook?”

Jenna shrugged. “I’m no match for Oscar’s but I can do simple. Come in. Please.”

Gard knew she should say no. Leave. The more time she spent with Jenna, the more things she found to enjoy. She liked the way Jenna’s hand fit in hers. The softness of her skin, the firm certainty of her grip. She liked the way her stomach tightened as their shoulders brushed with each step. Even when she’d thought she’d been in love, she hadn’t felt the same combination of excitement, contentment, and desire. She ought to back away but heard herself say, “That would be great. Thanks.”

“Good.” Jenna squeezed Gard’s hand, pleased to finally be able to take care of Gard in a small way. She’d hardly believed it when she’d heard the truck pull in and had looked up to see Gard parked in the drive. She’d just been walking through the house, recalling her sadness during the first visit, thinking how comforting Gard had been. She hadn’t expected to grieve for a woman she didn’t know, and she certainly hadn’t expected to be consoled by a stranger. Gard didn’t feel like a stranger now, even though she knew very little about her, really.

“You never did tell me where you’re from,” Jenna said as they climbed the back porch steps.

“Does it matter?” Gard said, and the wariness was back in her voice.

“No.” Jenna had told Alice the past was the past, even though she knew the past never completely disappeared. Hers was like a living presence in the back of her mind, whispering reminders of what she’d escaped and warnings of how tenuous the present might be. She wondered if Gard’s past haunted her as hers did. “Are you happy here?”

Gard reached the screen door and held it open for Jenna to pass into the kitchen. “Yes. I like my job.”

“Grab a chair and relax.” Jenna flicked on a wall switch and the round globe in the kitchen ceiling bathed the room in a pale yellow light. If anyone had asked her if she was happy, she would have instantly said yes. She loved her work, thrived on the demands of her busy schedule and the pleasure and security she got from making her own way in the world. Evidently Gard was the same way. Neither of them was attached, apparently by choice. Gard could surely have any number of women if the admiring glances of the ones in the diner—and Rina Gold—were any indication. Neither of them wanted anything serious, neither wanted complications. What could be better? If she was going to be here for a few weeks, she could do much worse than Gard for company. Once she returned to New York, this would just be another piece of the past that had nothing to do with Cassandra Hart’s life.

Humming lightly, Jenna opened the refrigerator and took out all the vegetables, then removed a package of chicken from the freezer. “Stir-fry okay?”

“Sounds pretty perfect. Want help?”

“No. There’s not much to do.”

“Probably safer.”

Jenna laughed. “I take it you don’t cook?”

“Not much reason to, really. Beam is happy with whatever I give her, and I’m not home enough to spend time fixing a meal.”

When Gard turned her chair around from the table to face her, Jenna paused, a half-peeled carrot in one hand. Gard’s long legs stretched out in front of her and she’d draped one arm over the back of her chair. With her dark hair tousled and her rangy body so utterly untamed, she was about the sexiest woman Jenna had ever seen. A knot formed in her throat and she had to swallow before she could speak without a tremor in her voice.

“I forgot, you’re not big on entertaining, so you probably don’t have any reason to do much cooking.” She went back to peeling the carrot and hoped Gard couldn’t read her thoughts. She was usually much better at this game.

“I’m afraid culinary arts are not in my skill set,” Gard murmured.

“I’m sure you have others.” Jenna gave her a slow smile, aware she was flirting. Enjoying herself. She was usually the one being pursued, and even then the seductions often bordered on transactions. This reversal was unexpectedly exciting, and her slowly building arousal even more acute. Gard’s expression seemed to have sharpened, her gaze darker and heavier by the moment. Hoping for casual, Jenna rinsed the package of chicken neatly labeled and frozen in a clear plastic bag under lukewarm water until it began to defrost. “I’ve been thinking I might stay here while I make arrangements for the estate.”

“Here?” Gard straightened. “By yourself?”

“Yes.” Jenna looked over her shoulder. “Is there some reason I shouldn’t? Isn’t it safe?”

“Oh, it’s perfectly safe,” Gard said quickly. “It’s kind of out in the middle of nowhere. I guess I didn’t picture you wanting to be that far from civilization.”

Jenna laughed. “Do you really think I’m some kind of spoiled city girl?”

“Ah, I didn’t say that.” Gard shrugged. “Rina tells me you’re a celebrity, though. You didn’t mention you were an award-winning author.”

“Why would I? Those awards don’t mean anything to anyone outside the industry. The only thing that really matters is how popular your books are with your readers.” Jenna turned and pointed her wooden spoon at Gard. “And you don’t read romances, remember? So I have no chance at impressing you.”

“I wouldn’t say that.” Grad stood quickly and strode toward her, so graceful and powerful Jenna’s pulse tripled. “I would imagine being a New York Times bestselling writer is pretty damn amazing for anyone.”

“I’m always happy about having my work recognized, of course,” Jenna drizzled olive oil in the pan and set the burner on medium, “but it’s not something I chase after.”

“No?” Gard stepped close to Jenna to peer into the skillet, so close Jenna caught a whiff of hay and clover. “What do you chase after?”

A night without dreams. A life without fear. Maybe, for a few weeks, you. “The next great story,” Jenna said lightly.

“I imagine you spend a lot of time in the limelight.”

“I suppose.” Jenna grimaced. “Occupational hazard. I’m selling a product, and I’m only as popular as my last book. If I’m not out there reminding people of who I am and what I write, there are plenty of other authors who will step up to fill the gap.”

“You make yourself sound ordinary, and I know that can’t be true.” Gard rested her hand on Jenna’s back and leaned closer to the stove. “That smells great.”

“You’re very good for my ego.” Jenna scooped a mushroom from the pan and held it out to Gard. “Here. Try.”

Gard cradled Jenna’s wrist and held her gaze while she softly blew on the morsel and then slowly closed her mouth around it. Jenna couldn’t look away from her mouth. Oh God, she had a beautiful mouth. Her insides went liquid. If she didn’t step away, she was going to embarrass herself and chase after that mushroom.

“So you think it’s all right if I just move in?” Jenna scooted out from under Gard’s hand and searched the cabinets for plates. “I feel a little presumptuous even cooking in here.”

“Elizabeth left this place to you—I’d think she’d like knowing you were here.” Gard took the plates from Jenna and set them on the table. “In fact, it will be a lot easier to inventory the house. And it’s got to be better than the motor court.”

Jenna rolled her eyes. “Oh, you have no idea. At least here I won’t be tempted to carry a gun to shoot the cockroaches.”

“What about Alice?” Gard asked, her voice carefully neutral.

“She’ll stay here too while she’s visiting.” Jenna laughed as she filled the plates. “I give her three days before the quiet gets to her.”

“What about you? How long do you think you might stay?”

Jenna turned from the table. Gard was inches away. “I haven’t decided. I have a really hectic schedule starting in a few months and I need to get a lot of writing done before I take to the road again. This looks like it will be a great place to work.”

“You don’t think you’ll miss all that big-city excitement?”

Jenna couldn’t miss the bitterness in Gard’s tone and wanted to put the smile back on her sinfully sexy mouth. “I think I’ll be able to find something around here to keep me entertained.”

A second passed, and Gard grinned wryly. “At least for a few weeks.”

“At the very least,” Jenna said.

Chapter Fourteen

Gard was pretty certain she was reading the signals right. Jenna was flirting with her. All through dinner, while they talked about Gard’s job and Jenna’s next book and Elizabeth’s paintings, the conversation drifted easily, like so many leaves on a slow-moving stream. Every now and then, she had to force herself to focus, having gotten sidetracked by the way Jenna tilted her head when she was concentrating, the way her lips parted when she was amused, the way she leaned forward intently when she was excited by an idea, her breasts peaking the cotton fabric of her short-sleeved shirt. Jenna’s eyes flashed and glowed with emotion. Her body, her voice, her movements were a beautiful symphony playing along Gard’s nerve endings, exciting her, intriguing her, enticing her. By the time they finished the meal and Gard stood up to help clear the table, she was vibrating with the urge to run, or to touch her. She backed up, out of arm’s reach.