Ten minutes later, breath puffing, she stopped at the end of Ty's drive, uncertain.

Why had she come here?

Telling herself it was to see Danny, not his owner, she walked toward Ty's barn.

A shadow emerged in front of her, shifting into the shape of a man. Ty. He wore black jeans, a black shirt and a black expression to match, and as he stood there watching her, his face impassive and stoic, something passed between them, belying that very distance.

He felt it to his toes, then cursed himself for it.

"I wanted to see Danny," she said defiantly.

"Zoe," he said wearily, slipping his hands in his pockets to keep them off her. "Truth."

"Okay, truth." Her jaw tightened. "I don't have what it takes to get the ranch going."

The admission startled him, and her misery tore at something deep inside. Despite his resolve to stay the hell away, he took a step toward her. "Of course you do."

"No." Impatient, she shook her head. "I mean, we don't have enough money. Something has to give, only there's nothing left. I've checked the numbers a hundred times."

Her frustration felt like his own. "I tried to make your loan bigger."

"You gave us enough."

"Your pride doesn't belong here." He got angry because her grim eyes were too hard to take. The last time he'd seen eyes so despairing, he'd been looking into Ben's dying face. And into that dying face he'd made a promise that haunted him to this very day. "You could let me buy-"

"No." She whirled around in a circle, staring into the dark at his small spread. "I want to make it work. I want…" Her shoulders sagged and her voice broke. "I want it all. Dammit, is that so wrong?"

She covered her face and her suffering was too much for him to bear. "It's okay," he whispered, coming close and setting his hands on her shoulders. Gently he drew her close, cursing himself as he did. "It's going to be okay."

"How can I be so close and fail?"

Same reason he could be so close to her, could see her for what she was-a woman determined to never need another soul-and still so desperately want her for himself. "You won't fail, Zoe. It's not in you."

Determination filled her fierce expression, but she hugged him back, her body willing to trust him for comfort even if her mind wasn't.


* * *

"It seems obvious to me." Cade took another bite, moaned with pleasure, winked at Maddie and spoke again. "A guest ranch."

Zoe sputtered, nearly choking on her iced tea. "A what?"

"You know… bring in rich vacationing people to do all the work for you. They used to call them dude ranches."

Maddie, Delia and Zoe just stared at him.

"On top of that," he said around another bite, "they pay for the privilege of doing all your chores. It's great."

Delia looked speculative. "Rich people? Such as… rich men?"

Cade was disgusted. "Hey, baby, I'm rich. Why don't you fall over me?"

"I'm looking for personality, Slick."

Maddie gave Delia an admonishing look, then turned back to Cade. "A guest ranch would be like an inn, right?"

"Sort of."

Her eyes lit with speculation. "It would need a really great kitchen, wouldn't it? With fabulous meals for lots of hungry guests."

"Hungry, rich guests," Delia said with growing interest.

Zoe could see her sisters caving. "You're all crazy."

"Zoe, think of it." Maddie's eyes were shining. "These people pay."

"Yeah, as in cash money," Delia added. "Can't believe we didn't think of it before. We're in the best spot in the world. People love Idaho."

"Capital," Zoe reminded her sister. "We'd need capital. And someone with the know-how."

"We already have a manager who'd be willing to help," Maddie said quietly.

The man who'd held her last night, the man who'd helped her believe in herself. Ty.

Zoe pushed away her dinner plate, suddenly no longer hungry. She was feeling a lot of things, too many things, most of it owing to the private conversation she'd just had with Cade where she'd learned there was no news on the inheritance front.

Her mother had disappeared off the face of the planet twenty years ago and not a word from her had been heard since.

Fine. She could deal with that. With being deserted. She could deal with anything, and had. "We can do better than this," she declared. "I mean, come on… a guest ranch? Triple M Guest Ranch?"


* * *

But as she walked along the river that night, after an exhausting run, contemplating her failures, Zoe kept coming back to the thought… a guest ranch.

How bad could it be?

She smiled, thinking her sisters were going to enjoy being right.

"Well, isn't that something? A smile." Ty dismounted his horse, let it loose to graze in the wild grass and leaned negligently against a tree. "Can't say I've seen that too often." He waited a beat. "Did it hurt?"

"Very funny. Why are you following me?"

"I came to the house for dessert. Maddie told me where you were. You shouldn't be out here alone."

"Ty, you climb rock monoliths sixty stories high for fun. I think I can handle a little tame walk along the river."

"I meant because you're lonely."

Her heart stopped, then started a heavy pumping that was louder than the roar of the river.

Ty stepped closer. "Being alone makes loneliness worse, Zoe."

"Well, I'm not alone now, am I?" She speculated, then gave him a sideways glance. He certainly looked the part of the cowboy tonight, dressed in jeans so faded the stress points were white, and oh boy, did he have stress points. She dragged her eyes upward to his plain T-shirt, partially covered by an unbuttoned blue chambray shirt.

She'd missed him, but he'd been so busy they'd hardly spoken. Not that she would have known what to say. He wanted something from her she wasn't ready to give.

And where did that leave him? He still wanted her land. What would he think of this latest idea? Only one way to find out. "What do you think of guest ranches?" she asked suddenly.

Ty laughed, then sobered when she glared at him. "You're serious?"

She spread her hands. "What choice do we have at this point? The big house could be a lodge, the cottages individual cabins for families to stay. We're smack-dab in the middle of thousands of acres of wild, unexplored federal park land, all of it ready to play in. Day hikes. Rides. Big-game hunting. It's a four-season playground. Just think… it could be a hot, exclusive place to go."

"You've really thought about this."

"Better than selling out."

He went grim. "Yeah. You'll still need more money." He bent, picked up a stone and tossed it into the river.

"Yes." She bit her lip. Considered. "But a guest ranch has potential for earning money back much faster than a working ranch if done correctly."

"It will also take much more capital than a working ranch."

"I know. I was thinking we could take on a partner for the venture… one who knew what he was doing."

His head whipped toward hers, eyes narrowed. The moon peeked out from beneath a cloud, lighting up the small clearing where they stood, casting everything in a dreamy glow.

"Know anyone who'd be interested?" she wondered.

"You know damn straight I'm interested, but it involves trust, Zoe." He shifted closer until she could feel the heat of him. "Ready for that?"

"No more than you are."

"What does that mean? I trust you."

"Tell me about your brother, Ty."

A long, pent-up breath escaped him. "Where did that come from?"

"Is it such a surprise that I want to know more about you?"

"That you're admitting it is." But she was staring at him, waiting. And he suddenly wanted to tell her. "He was… Ben." He lifted a shoulder, struggling for words. He'd never talked about his brother before, and suddenly it didn't seem right to be burying Ben's memory, not when Ty wanted to remember him always. Ben deserved to be remembered, to be talked about. "He was wonderful, funny. Smart." He smiled as memories, good ones, washed over him. "And he kept me in line."

She smiled, too. "You were close."

"We survived." He looked at his own big hands and knew he could never be like his father, could never use violence against another.

"He's… gone?"

"He died." God, it was hard to say it aloud, to put the images back into his head. "In my arms, after a fight with a gang member on the streets of Chicago where we lived. He was sixteen."

"Oh God, Ty." She reached for him, the ground crunching beneath her as she moved, her soft warm body pressing close. It wasn't in any way a sexual embrace, it was different, and it was somehow far better.

There was no sound except for the soothing rush of the river, and he urged her even closer, folding her tight to him, soaking up the affection he'd been starving for since that day he'd given her the kitten.

"I'm sorry," she whispered after a time. "You were left alone. It was so unfair."

It wasn't a question, but a statement, from someone who knew just how unfair life could be. "He made me promise to keep our dream," he said. He lifted his head and met her gaze steadily. "To raise horses. Lots and lots of horses. We knew little about them then, other than the ranch life represented a freedom we'd never experienced."

She smiled sadly. "That's why you want Constance's land. Because yours isn't big enough. Oh, Ty, I wish I'd known. I thought… I thought…"

"I know." She'd thought the worst, believing it had been nothing more than selfish greed motivating him.

But what did this change?

He touched her face softly, and for the first time in a long while he felt a surge of hope. "I don't think a guest ranch occurred to Ben, but somehow I believe he'd approve. Zoe…" He didn't know how to finish the sentence, didn't know what he wanted to say, only knew the moment was special, that they were jumping yet another hurdle… directly into the unknown. "I would love to be a partner in Triple M."

She stepped back with a little, touchingly nervous smile. "I'm glad." She bit her lip. "There's so much to do. We have to get advertising together, permits, and there's still so much to fix up in the cottages and the other barn…" She laughed and he smiled at her, loving the sound of her joy.

"You ought to do that more," he said, touching her lower lip with his thumb. "Laugh."

She reached up and held his hand to her face, lowering her eyes.

"I don't imagine there's been much to laugh about in your life, has there?" he asked quietly.

"No more than yours. But life is good right now."

"Yes," he agreed. "It is."

A small, satisfied smile came back to her lips. "There's a long way to go, but at least we're on the road now."

"I like the we part."

She studied him carefully. "I don't do the 'we' thing very well. I'm basically a loner."

"I don't believe that."

"It's true, I don't let people in very well."

"You let your sisters in."

"Yes, but even with them I hold back," she admitted, cringing a little at the thought. "You have this way of pushing my safety barriers and I like to be alone. I have been ever since…"

"Ever since what, Zoe?"

"My mother left me." She closed her eyes, her skin pale in the glow of the night. And he'd never seen her look more vulnerable or beautiful. "I was three and she promised to come back for me, only she never did. I didn't understand then, but I do now."

"What do you understand?"

"That it's better to be alone than get hurt."

"I don't believe that."

Her eyes heated. "Well, I do. Look, by the time I was five, I was making up excuses for my mother. She'd found her prince, she was living in a castle far away, stuff like that." She sighed. "And when I was ten and everyone in my class was writing about their past and their families, I made mine up because I didn't know anything about myself or where I'd come from. I knew her last name, that's it. Not my father's, though." She shook her head. "By the time I was eighteen and on my own I knew the truth. I'd been deserted, and no amount of wishing and dreaming and hoping was going to change that. I'm an orphan because no one wanted me, and I have to live with that every day of my life." She let out a short, harsh laugh and turned away. "That was probably far more than you wanted to know."

Turning her around, he slid his bands over her stiff, proud shoulders, down her arms until he could grasp her hands and link their fingers. "It was exactly what I wanted to know," he assured her. He wanted to ease her pain as she'd eased his, he wanted to let her know he was there for her, but Zoe was a woman for which words didn't mean much. It had to be action.