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  Nick touched Ruby’s waist and urged her toward the door. She glanced over her shoulder in time to see Sam sit back down in the booth, an expression she wasn’t sure she could read on his face.

  As Nick led her to the truck, all she could think about was Sam. Why had he sent her so cheerfully home, and why wasn’t he trying to talk himself into her house…and her bed?

  SAM WATCHED as Nick helped Ruby into the truck, then walked around and climbed in. Without so much as turning back to wave, Ruby fastened her seat belt, and Nick started the engine. Then they rode off with a truckful of the day’s purchases. And what was left of Sam’s heart. Damn, he hated the thought of having to go back to Gwen’s boardinghouse and sleep alone when Ruby was within hollering distance.

  “Sam Cade?”

  He looked up, startled to find himself addressed by name, to see a man in a sheriff’s uniform standing by the booth. He knew Ruby was upset that he’d reappeared in her life without any warning, but he hadn’t expected that she’d sic the sheriff on him.

  Chapter Five

  “I’m Sam Cade,” he replied warily.

  The man stuck out his hand. “Luke McNeil. Got a minute?”

  They shook, each taking the measure of the other. “Sure. Have a seat. It’s your town,” Sam said, gesturing. It apparently wasn’t official business if the sheriff was offering his hand, but Sam wouldn’t put it past someone in town to have pointed out that he’d been skulking around, and have asked the sheriff to check him out.

  “No, I just try to keep the peace in it,” McNeil corrected as he slid into the booth across from Sam.

  Valerie set a cup of coffee in a take-out container in front of the sheriff without being asked, and Luke waited until she had moved away before continuing. “Thought I could use your talents,” he said.

  Okay, it was official, but he wasn’t the object of scrutiny. Sam fished in his pocket for money to pay the tab as McNeil took a sip of coffee. “How?”

  Luke glanced around the busy diner, where the patrons seemed to be pretending to mind their own business. “Walk outside with me, Sam,” he suggested, dropping a dollar bill on the table. Sam knew how people in small towns always wanted to know everyone else’s affairs. Whatever McNeil had to say, Sam figured it wasn’t for public consumption.

  Sam collected his sack of books, and they stepped outside to the tune of the bell jangling above the door.

  “Where you staying?” Luke said, after putting on his hat and glancing around.

  The street had become as congested as it was possible to be in a small town like Jester, and obviously, McNeil didn’t want to be overheard. “Gwen’s place. What’s up?”

  Luke nodded in the direction of the boardinghouse. “I’ll walk with you and fill you in as we go.”

  His curiosity up and running, Sam waited in silence as he and Sheriff McNeil strolled toward Gwen’s. Once they’d left the bustle of Main Street, Luke explained what he wanted. “You noticed that the pavilion in the park has collapsed.”

  Sam nodded.

  “It wasn’t an accident,” Luke said.

  “You sure? Considering the state of disrepair it was in the last time I was in town, I figured it could have fallen on its own.”

  “Some bolts were tampered with. Engineer’s report confirms it. And since somebody tried to burn it down after that, there isn’t much doubt in my mind.”

  Sam arched an eyebrow. Maybe there was more excitement in little Jester than he’d thought. “Got any idea who?”

  “I have some suspects, but nothing concrete. Don’t have any real evidence that points to anyone. That’s where you come in. I noticed how you came into town under the radar last week. Most other people didn’t, but they’re not trained observers. I need you to do a little nosing around for me. Since not everybody in Jester knows you, maybe you can pick up some undercurrent I’ve missed. Some clue.”

  Sam shrugged. “I reckon I could help out. But Ruby and I have become the chief topic of conversation around here. You saw how everyone turned to look when we left the diner.”

  “Yeah, but we weren’t trying not to be noticed.” Luke clasped Sam’s shoulder. “Do what you can. I need an extra set of eyes and ears. And I get the feeling you won’t be taking sides like some of the other people around here.”

  “I’ll give it my best,” Sam said. “I just can’t make any promises.”

  “That’s all I ask,” Luke said, adjusting his hat. Then he turned and strode away, leaving Sam to wonder just what was happening in the sleepy Montana hamlet.

  RUBY STUMBLED OUT of her bedroom and into the kitchen. This morning she was not greeted by the welcoming aroma of fresh-brewed coffee as she had been two days before. And today she really needed it.

  She was going to have to get herself together about this Sam situation or she’d be among the walking wounded for the duration. She couldn’t go on operating on too little sleep with too much on her mind.

  Why had Sam come back now?

  Why hadn’t he been there for her six months ago, when it really mattered? Heck, for the past couple of years?

  She went through the motions of making coffee, actions more on automatic pilot than with conscious effort. She loved her old-fashioned, blue-and-white-speckled enamel coffeepot, and she resisted the idea of getting one of those new ones that had a timer. Except on mornings like this.

  Ruby took a seat at the kitchen table, propping her elbows on top and her tired head on her hands as she waited for the coffee to perk.

  The smell of scorched coffee and the sizzle of liquid hitting the hot stove jerked her awake. Darn, she had fallen asleep, and the pot was boiling over. She turned off the gas, grabbed for a potholder and removed the coffee from the stove. “That’s it. I’ve had it. I don’t care if I miss an entire day of work on this farm, I am going to get an automatic coffeemaker. Today,” she muttered as she swabbed at the mess on top of the stove.

  “You mean one like this?” Sam asked as he walked in through the mudroom door.

  “Wh—?”

  “Good morning, Ruby,” he said cheerfully, as he removed a brand-new, automatic coffeemaker from its box and proceeded to set it up on the counter.

  “But—?”

  “Consider it a housewarming gift from me,” Sam said, his expression so doggoned cocky as he rinsed out the pot, then filled it with water. “You always hated to wait for the coffee to be ready in the morning.” He found the ground coffee in the refrigerator, spooned it in, then pushed the hopper into position. “Hot coffee coming up,” he said. “But then, we might have to experiment until we figure out how much to use to get it strong the way you like it.”

  All Ruby could do was watch. This was so like Sam, taking over as he was. And he’d always been able to read her mind. To know exactly what she was thinking. Even when she didn’t want him to.

  Why, then, had he been so stupid as to go on that mission, when he knew how much she hated it? Ruby finally found her voice. “Where did you get that?” she managed to croak.

  “I picked it up at the Mercantile. I had thought I’d use it in the apartment, but then I figured you could use it more than me, sugar,” Sam said in that honey-sweet Southern drawl of his. Just hearing it made Ruby go mushy all over. She had always loved the way he called her sugar. Now she wished he wouldn’t. She needed to think about Sam with a clear head, not a brain made out of oatmeal.

  “You did pay for it, didn’t you?” was all Ruby could think to say in her befuddled state.

  “Of course I did. You may have a low opinion of me, but I am an officer and a gentlemen. Or I was.” His cockiness faded a little, and Ruby knew that his medical retirement was still a sore point.

  And that worried her. So much of his ego had been tied up in his position as an officer in an elite team of special operations combat controllers. Would he get bored here and leave when something more exciting came up?

  “You could say thank you, darlin’,” Sam reminded her gently.

  �
�Thank you, Sam. You always seem to know how to please me.” Especially in bed, Ruby couldn’t help thinking. She shook her head to get the notion out of it, and was glad when Nick came in. Thankfully, his being there made it possible for her to pull herself together. At least, Nick’s presence seemed to dilute some of Sam’s potent charms. “Okay, I’m making breakfast,” she said. “Who’s hungry?”

  Nick raised his hand, but Sam simply crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the counter near the coffee machine, his legs crossed at the ankles, a smug look on his face.

  “I already ate,” he finally said. “But I’m still hungry,” he added so softly that Ruby was probably the only one who heard.

  And she also knew that she was the only one who’d been meant to hear. Sam wasn’t hungry for eggs and bacon.

  He wanted her.

  Ruby drew in a deep breath and set about making breakfast for Nick and herself, even though she knew she wouldn’t eat it. She was hungry, too. And, doggone it, not for breakfast. She still wanted Sam as much as she ever had, and that could be her ruination.

  Or maybe her salvation.

  Why did this all have to be so darned confusing?

  SAM LOOKED UP from where he’d been turning over the recently started compost heap and watched as Ruby laughed and joked with Nick. The bright morning sun made her copper-colored hair gleam like a new penny as she threw her arms around Nick in an exuberant hug, and it was all Sam could do to keep his eyes off her.

  Damn that Nick, Sam thought as he stabbed a pitchfork into the compost as hard as he could.

  That green-eyed monster Sam had been trying to keep in the back of his mind jumped out, front and center. Ruby had been taking pains to avoid him, and when she was around him, she acted all stiff and formal, as if they hadn’t spent ten good years together. Yet with Nick, she laughed and carried on as if they’d known each other forever. Sam leaned on the pitchfork and squinted to see if he could read their lips and tell what they were talking about.

  He’d been able to piece together, as best he could without asking directly, that though Nick was taking his meals with Ruby, he was sleeping in that beat-up travel trailer. But Sam wondered how long that would have lasted if he hadn’t turned up when he had. Was Nick angling for the place in Ruby’s bed that Sam had always occupied?

  No, he couldn’t think that. He and Ruby were not divorced yet, and he knew his wife well enough that he was certain she would not invite another man into her bed until she was legally free to do so. And it was up to Sam to make sure that didn’t happen.

  The subjects of his surveillance must have sensed he was watching them, because they both turned and waved. Sam waved back. What else could he do?

  He picked up the pitchfork and attacked the pile of half-rotted hay with a vengeance, wishing heartily that it was Nick he was battling. How was he going to convince Ruby to give him another chance, with Nick hanging around all the time? He hadn’t had a private moment with Ruby yet. Sam stabbed at the pile of hay and flung the stuff farther than necessary. Here he was, a highly trained commando, well versed in all kinds of computer and electronic technology, and he was shoveling hay, while Nick was getting all the good jobs and romancing his wife.

  As he worked, Sam felt the short hairs on the back of his neck begin to rise, a sure sign that he needed to be alert. He looked up to see that Ruby was heading his way. Their eyes met and held, then she looked away.

  Sam wondered why. Was it because she was guilty about carrying on with Nick, or was it because the old attraction between them was still pulling them together, as strongly as ever? He stabbed the fork into the pile of hay and leaned on it, waiting for Ruby to approach, and appreciating the way the worn denim hugged her hips and did nothing to disguise her slender shape. She might be dressed like a man to work this farm, but she was all woman.

  And she was his. At least, she would be again, or he would die trying.

  Ruby smiled as she drew near, shading her eyes with her hands in the strong noontime sun. “You can stop now,” she said. “I think it’s dead.”

  Sam laughed, appreciating the fact that she’d finally loosened up a little with him. “Yeah, you can’t be having a killer compost heap lurking around your farm. No tellin’ what would happen.”

  “No telling,” Ruby said, propping her elbows on a fence that showed evidence of recent repair. She stared off into the distance as she leaned against it.

  “I thought I heard around town that you were going to raise hogs,” Sam commented, when Ruby didn’t explain why she’d come over.

  “I thought so, too,” she replied, still wearing that faraway look. “Then I met Petunia and the kids.”

  “Petunia and the kids? Do you have some other farm workers here I don’t know about?”

  Ruby chuckled and turned back to face him. “No, Petunia is a pig. Hog, I guess. She and an old boar were the only stock left on this spread when I bought it. I had thought to buy more, hog prices being what they are, but then I met Petunia.” She sighed, and Sam appreciated the way her chest rose and fell, straining against her chambray work shirt. “She’d just had a litter of piglets, and they were so cute….” Her voice trailed off.

  “You couldn’t bear the thought of sending them to slaughter,” Sam concluded.

  Ruby shuddered and glanced back to where she’d been looking before. “Don’t say that word. It gives me the willies! Yes, Petunia is so sweet, and the piglets are so cute. All I could think about was Arnold the pig on that television show Green Acres, and maybe Piglet from Winnie the Pooh.” She sighed again. “I just couldn’t bear the thought of it.”

  She turned back to face him and grinned. “So I dropped the idea of raising pigs and went back to the original plan—organic vegetables.”

  “And spared Petunia’s life.” Sam looked around. He had seen no evidence of pigs since he’d been there. “Did you give them away? Petunia and the kids, I mean.” And the boar, too, he supposed.

  Ruby’s grin faded. “Roscoe died. We found him out in the woods right after I took possession of the farm. Gave him a decent burial. Melinda Hartman, the vet, said that Roscoe had run wild for years and was probably quite old. Nobody had been able to catch him.”

  “Except Petunia,” Sam said.

  “Yes. And that was probably his last hurrah,” Ruby said wryly.

  “Yeah, but what a way to go.” Sam grinned. He couldn’t help making that comment. He’d always assumed he’d die at home in bed, with Ruby beside him, when he was eighty or ninety or maybe even a hundred. His own brush with mortality had made him think about that a lot lately, not take it for granted as he had in the past.

  “Anyway, Petunia and the kids pretty much have the run of the place for now. They’re out there somewhere,” Ruby said, pointing in the direction she’d been looking. “We figured getting them fenced in properly could wait a little longer while we got the place ready for the first crop. They’d survived this long without us and could probably hang on a little longer.”

  But Sam wasn’t sure he would. Talking about Petunia’s and the late Roscoe’s amorous adventures had done nothing to quench the ardor he still felt for his wife.

  Ruby turned to him. “I wanted to tell you how much I’ve appreciated your help, Sam,” she said, reverting to that stiff formality he’d hoped had finally gone. “With you taking care of the small stuff, Nick’s been able to get a lot more done.”

  Sam tipped the cap that protected him from the strong Montana sun. “Anytime, ma’am,” he said. “I aim to please.” He’d much rather please Ruby another way, but he’d have to bide his time for that.

  At least he’d gotten through to her during those few unguarded moments. Maybe she’d begin letting her defenses down soon.

  Ruby laughed, and Sam loved hearing it. “I’m going to go put lunch together. I think that compost heap has been turned enough. Get washed up, then come in and eat.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Sam saluted, hefted the pitchfork into position on his
shoulder and marched toward the toolshed. Yep, he thought as he watched Ruby stroll toward the house. Maybe he was beginning to see a tiny chink in her protective armor. All he had to do now was figure out how to make it big enough to let him in.

  If he could only get rid of Nick, that task would be a hell of a lot easier. Since Sam wasn’t about to resort to murder, he’d have to find some other way to get the man out of the picture.

  And a faster way to get back into Ruby’s good graces.

  SHE’D ALWAYS KNOWN that Sam was a hard worker, but Ruby wondered what had him so fired up that he’d been attacking that pile of half-rotted hay as if his life depended on it. She tried to figure out what was going on in her husband’s head as she assembled sandwiches and laid them out on a platter for lunch.

  “He’s a hard worker,” Nick said. “You have to give him that.”

  “Yeah,” Ruby said, trying to shove a lock of hair out of her eyes with her shoulder. Her hands were full and she couldn’t get it herself.

  Nick must have noticed, for he stepped closer and brushed the errant strand away from her face, tucking it securely behind her ear. “There,” he said. “All better.”

  They turned quickly at the sound of a quick gasp of breath.

  Sam had come in. He glared at Nick, and Ruby wondered what that was all about, but he didn’t explain and she didn’t ask. Instead, she took a closer look at him.

  His hair was wet and slick from washing, and damp spots dotted his shirt. A clean one, Ruby noticed with surprise. Especially for her? He’d changed into a clean T-shirt and, just like the other day, he smelled like soap. Just thinking about Sam fresh from the shower made her feel all warm and mushy.

  Ruby shook that thought from her head as she turned back to finish making the lemonade. She had to stop thinking about that. She and Sam had a lot to work through before she’d be able to accept him back into her life for good.

  Nick stepped quickly away from her, and Sam silently took his place. He stood so close behind her that Ruby could feel his warm breath on her neck. She should have been annoyed at his blatant act of possession, but instead she felt shivers of delight skittering down her spine.