Free A Love to Call Her Own by Marilyn Pappano

meet tonight, don’t they?”
    Jessy tilted her head to one side. From what she knew, Dalton was pretty much a loner, preferring his animals and land over socializing in town. She’d bet he rarely heard gossip or listened to it when he did. “How do you know about the margarita club?”
    â€œDane told me.”
    Her eyes widened. “You know Dane Clark?”
    â€œHe painted that fence over there.”
    She spared a glance for the white boards around the corral. “Hm. He helped Carly paint her living room. He’s just a handy guy to have around, isn’t he?” Before he could respond, she went on. “He hasn’t even been at Fort Murphy that long. How did you meet him?”
    Dalton started walking, and she fell in step beside him. “He likes palominos.”
    â€œSo…what? He went looking for someone who raised palominos?” That definitely didn’t fit with what she knew of Dane, especially in his first couple months in town. “No, I know: He was driving by, saw your horses, told you they were pretty, and you invited him back.”
    â€œPretty much.”
    They reached the horse pasture, and she photographed the beautiful golden horses with their white manes and tails. In the right light, their coats would gleam like a new gold coin, giving them an almost knight-maiden-fantasy look. Jessy glanced at Dalton, wondering if she could invite herself back to catch that perfect light.
    After a time, she lowered the camera and leaned on the board fence, keeping her gaze locked on the horses. “We’ve never had any guys come to the Tuesday Night Margarita Club, but…” It was hard to say the rest of the words. The margarita dolls were her best, only friends. They didn’t know that she was a drunk, or that she slept around, or that she wasn’t as good and honest and honorable as they were. Dalton knew, and what one knew, the others eventually found out.
    Still, she forced herself to finish. “You would be welcome there.”
    With anyone else, she would have said he was considering it, the way he grew thoughtful, his forehead furrowed, his gaze distant. But she had no doubt what his answer would be. He wasn’t the type to ask for help, certainly not from strangers, and women, no less. Cowboys didn’t show weakness.
    And connecting with the club, when she was a member…Wasn’t gonna happen.
    â€œNo, thanks,” he said at last, and relief seeped through her even though she’d known he would refuse. As long as he didn’t tell Dane, her secrets were safe.
    â€œI appreciate lunch and the photo ops, but you’ve got work to do and I’d better get back to town.”
    They reached the house before he asked, “Did you quit the bank job?”
    She stumbled over a step, and his fingers wrapped around her arm, holding her upright until she caught her balance. His hand was strong, callused, and spread heat all the way through her body. Flushed, heart racing, even a little light-headed, she attempted a laugh. “You’d think I’d do that when I’m wearing four-inch heels and have a lot less foot in contact with the ground.”
    He stood a step below her, but she still had to look up to see his face, impassive as usual but with a tiny bit of something in his eyes. Attraction? Arousal? His nostrils flared slightly as he breathed in, like an animal catching scent of his prey…or his mate.
    Jessy swallowed hard, willing all the little nerve endings in her body to go numb. She’d been with enough men to shame her, and she’d done so much more with this man than a simple touch. She was way too jaded to feel anything special in something so innocent.
    At least, she should have been.
    Slowly his fingers uncurled, but even after he let go, she still felt the shape of his hand in her very pores, and her lungs refused to accept more than the smallest of breaths. How long had it been since a