Chapter One

Gina Rigoletti's heart pounded as she followed the sounds of deep male laughter and happy baby squeals to a child's playroom in the Barnes mansion. She'd been here before...years ago. Back then, this room had been a sitting area attached to Logan Barnes's bedroom. Fate had brought her here again.

On the threshold of the playroom, she shut down the memories before they paralyzed her altogether to focus on Logan Burnes. He was sitting on the floor in front of an easy chair. With ease, he lifted his fourteen-month-old son high in the air. Little Daniel giggled and his dad laughed again.

The love between father and son was palpable as Gina took a step toward them, swallowing her anxiety. She called softly, "Logan?"

The tall, muscled, tawny-haired Texan stilled. Then he got to his feel and slowly turned--his son in his arms— and faced her.

"I should have called you after your pediatrician set up this appointment with me for Daniel. But I knew the conversation would be awkward. And Tessa gave you my name so if you wanted to cancel—"

"I did my homework on you after Dr. Rossi made the appointment," he cut in, stopping her.

Where he had been relaxed before she'd entered, now his shoulders were straight, his stance taut and determined as he went on, "You're the only expert near Sagebrush with your credentials—an M.A. in pediatric physical therapy and a Ph.D. in infant and toddler development. When did you move back here and open the Baby Grows practice?"

Yes, he had done his homework. She should have expected that.

She moved into the playroom, settling her bag of evaluation materials on the round coffee table, then nervously pushed her tangle of curly black hair behind one ear. "I returned to Sagebrush about six months ago."

When she'd learned the Family Tree Health Center in Lubbock—fifteen minutes from Sagebrush—was looking for a baby development practice, she'd impulsively submitted her résumé. It was the first impulsive decision she'd made in a very long time.

In the palpating silence, her heart beat hard and fast, and words seemed to jam in her throat. She had to act perfectly normal. She had to act as if years and distance and memories didn't make any difference.

"I'm living in the Victorian where Tessa used to live," she added, "sharing it with another doctor from Family Tree."

Logan's son Daniel was staring at her, just like his dad. Now the little boy tilted his head, laid on Logan's shoulder and gave her a smile.

She'd take whatever she could get. "And you must be Daniel."

The toddler straightened again and babbled a combination of "Da da" and "Dan Dan" with a few other syllables thrown in. His hair was sandy brown like his dad's, his eyes the same color of green. He was adorable in his cargo pants and red T-shirt, much more casual than his father who was still wearing a white shirt and dress slacks.

"Do you do all your clients' evals?" Logan asked, patting his son's back. "You couldn't have sent someone else?"

"I do the evaluations. I have therapists who work with the children, but they follow my plan."

Although Logan had been confident and assured from the day she'd met him in the estate's barn when she was eighteen, now he seemed to be debating with himself.

Suddenly Daniel leaned forward as if to take a better look at her. She raised her hands automatically as she would with any child and he practically jumped into her arms.

"Hello, there!" she said with a laugh, comfortably clasping him securely. After all, she was used to being around babies.

"You have him?" Logan looked worried, hovering close, his arms practically around her and his son.

Oh, how she remembered the strength of those arms. Oh, how she remembered Logan's six-foot-two height, his protective consideration that had made her feel like a princess. So near to him again, she could feel his body heat, could feel her own rise.

It had always been that way between them.

Daniel put his tiny hands on her cheeks, one on each side of her face and looked into her eyes.

She was fascinated by this little boy who, if his records were correct, hadn't learned to walk yet at fourteen months. He'd been a preemie and she didn't know the whole story behind that.

Logan seemed to decide she was capable enough to hold Daniel and stepped away. He pointed to the flannel bag on the coffee table. "A bag of tricks instead of a briefcase?" he asked.

At one time, Logan's green eyes would have twinkled and there would have been a smile at the corners of his mouth. But now he was making conversation, trying to figure out what was going to come next.

"It's more interesting than a briefcase, don't you think?"

The blue flannel bag almost looked like something Santa Claus would carry, only it was the wrong color.

The housekeeper who had introduced herself as Mrs. Mahoney peeked in the door. In her late forties, she wore her brown hair in a gamine cut. After a smile at Gina, she asked Logan, "Is there anything you need?"

"No, Hannah." He glanced at Gina. "You two have met?"

"We introduced ourselves when I came in, " Gina assured him.

Mrs. Mahoney made her way into the room and ruffled Daniel's hair. "I forgot to tell you Daniel had his supper early so he should be in a good mood until he starts getting sleepy. Logan, you have leftovers in the oven. I'll be watching TV if you need me."

Mrs. Mahoney bent and gave Daniel a kiss on the forehead. "I'll see you at bedtime, big boy." Then with a wave to them all, she headed out the door toward her quarters.

The silence of the big house surrounded the three of them.

The three of them.

Gina tightened her hold around the warm cuddly weight in her arms. This toddler could have been her life. This child could have been hers. If only she'd turned around and come home. If only she hadn't gone to that frat party and had her life changed forever.

Too late. Too late. Too late.

The window of opportunity with Logan had passed. Even if it hadn't, she wasn't the same woman now she'd been then. Nothing had ever been the same after her freshman year at college. She'd had to rebuild her world...alone.

Gina shifted Daniel to get a better idea of his weight and balance. When she tickled his tummy, he giggled.

"Maybe we'd better get started." Logan's voice was low and husky.

Her gaze met his and what she saw there shocked her as much as what she didn't see. His eyes used to be expressive—caring, amused, warm, simmering to share what had begun with one chaste kiss. Now they were turbulent, and she couldn't hold eye contact. That one look had made her feel such guilt. How could he do that without saying a word?

Fortunately Daniel was getting restless, rocking back and forth in her arms, and she could focus on him. "Where does Daniel spend most of his playtime?"

"Here."

"Good. I want to evaluate him with his own things around him."

Daniel wriggled more vigorously and Logan reached for him. "Do you want me to take him?"

Her pulse sped up with Logan so close. She noticed the way his cheeks had gotten leaner over the years, though his shoulders had grown more muscled. His waist was still tapered, and she recalled exactly how taut those stomach muscles had been.

Apparently Daniel thought his dad was going to pull him away from her. The baby slid his fingers into her curls and held on tight.

For years Gina had straightened her curls into more manageable waves. But over the past few months, she'd decided to let it curl naturally again. Now her concern was more for Daniel and his desire to hold onto her than her hair. "It's okay, little one. I'm not going anywhere. We're going to play for a bit."

Instead of scolding his son, Logan settled his hands over Daniel's and loosened the boy's fingers. When his tall hard body leaned into her, Gina was overwhelmed with emotion—and memories. Logan's fingers in her hair reminded her of the time he'd stroked her curls as they lay on the sofa in the poolhouse.

"God gave you too many curls to count so they'd drive me crazy."

"Crazy?"

"Silky and soft and I want to touch every one of them."

Now, however, Logan just tickled his son, letting his laughter spill around them. Then he lifted Daniel from Gina, high into the air, causing the little boy to give a cry of joy.

Watching them together, Gina's heart hurt and her arms felt so empty. She wrapped them around herself, knowing her evaluation had to be objective.

She could do this...she really could.

#

Logan sat straight on the cranberry leather sofa watching his son. Daniel crawled to Gina gleefully as if he'd been doing it since he'd been born.

Maybe he just wanted to reach those bright colored pegs on the board she held on her lap.

Unclenching his fist, Logan attempted to relax his posture so he didn't look like a man on guard. Why should he be on guard? Gina was just evaluating his son.

His son. His and Amy's son...the son his wife had died to save.

He might as well admit it. He was angry Gina was in his house, reminding him of a time he'd shoved behind him, reminding him of her desertion, reminding him of his father's stroke and the fact she'd left and hadn't looked back.

As Daniel plopped beside her on the floor stretching his hand toward the pegs on her board, Logan had to ask, "Why did you come back to Sagebrush?"

She didn't answer right away, rather set the board aside, picked up the remote-controlled car she'd removed from her bag and set it on the floor in front of her.

"My mom heard about the opening at the Family Tree Health Center and called to tell me about it. She and my dad have always wanted me to move back here, or at least closer than New England."

She pressed the button on the remote and the car skittered across a patch of hardwood floor. Daniel crawled after it as fast as his little legs would go.

"You know he can crawl," Logan grumbled. "Why keep encouraging him to do it?"

"I'm not encouraging him to crawl," she answered quietly. "I'm watching how he problem-solves, what he reaches for first, what muscles he uses when he does. He's not even thinking about using the coffee table to stand up or any other piece of furniture and I'm wondering why."

Logan wondered the same thing.

Tessa had given Logan exercises to do with Daniel since he was a few months old. But recently, with his son still not walking, Logan had worried. Was Daniel simply a premature baby, slow in development? Or was there another problem, perhaps more serious? Gina was here to assess that possibility.

She directed the car back to where she sat and Daniel followed it. Levering herself to her knees, she clasped the little boy at the waist and encouraged him to stand. He did...while she supported him. Slowly she let her arms take less and less of his weight until he was standing on his own.

"You're such a big boy! Can you take my hands and come over to me?" She offered them to him but he ignored her and plopped back down onto the floor as if that's where he was safe.

Suddenly she asked Logan, "Do you and Mrs. Mahoney carry him wherever he wants to go?"

Logan tried to restrain his impatience. "The house is huge. Usually I just scoop him up and bring him along. I guess Hannah might do the same."

If Gina noticed his impatience, she didn't respond to it. Instead she asked, "What about when you're relaxing in here, watching cartoons, something like that? Do you go to Daniel if you want him? Or do you encourage him to come to you?"

Logan thought about it. "Now that you mention it, I probably go to him and take him what he needs."

"Like a puzzle, or crayons, or blocks." She saw all those on the colorful shelves to the side of the room.

"Are you saying this is my fault?" He knew he sounded defensive and dammit, he was. After all he'd been through with Amy, as well as Daniel, he'd done the best he could.

Gina handed Daniel a plastic bowling pin and watched him turn it upside down. "I think you can call Mrs. Mahoney now. I'd like to talk to you about Daniel and I think it would be better if he's not in the room."

"He's not going to understand—"

Gina's concerned brown eyes locked to his and her voice held conviction. "Daniel will understand our tone of voice. He'll understand our expressions. He'll understand if we're happy, sad, angry or frustrated."

Gina Rigoletti was the baby expert and with reluctance Logan recognized that fact. He pressed a button on the console where the cordless phone sat on the end table.

Long minutes later, Hannah entered the room. "Is Daniel ready for bed?"

"If you could get him ready, that would be great," Logan said. "I'll be in as soon as Dr. Rigoletti leaves."

As soon as Hannah left with Daniel, Gina began gathering assessment sheets and toys she'd stacked on the coffee table and the floor around her. She slipped the papers onto her clipboard. The rest went back into that flannel bag.

She stood, seemed to debate with herself, and then joined Logan on the sofa. "I'll e-mail you a copy of my formal evaluation. For now, I'll give you the highlights." She looked down at the notes she'd taken. "First of all, Daniel was a preemie. He's within the normal range of walking which is fifteen months. I think with encouragement—the right kind of encouragement— that can happen."

"What do you mean the right kind of encouragement? I'm always asking him to come to me."

"We'll get into that." She checked her notes again. Because she didn't want to look at him?

"I know you're doing exercises with Daniel now. We're going to expand those a little if you decide to put him under my care. I'd like you to do them with him daily in between sessions. In addition, you have to stop carrying him when he can get somewhere on his own. You need to be patient enough to wait for him, encourage him to stand and walk with you. I think he'll do it if you simply let him lag behind. He won't like that. He needs motivation to get up and walk. You have to help him develop that."

Logan let out a sigh and ran a hand through his hair. "I thought kids learned to roll over, sit up, crawl and walk instinctively. I never expected Daniel to have problems with those things."

"He might be slower talking, too—sometimes preemies are. But you can encourage him in that area, also. The more verbal he becomes, the sooner he'll talk. He already understand more than you think he does. If you bring him what he wants or needs without him asking, there won't be any reason for him to ask."

"So his not walking yet isn't a permanent problem?"

"In my opinion, I don't think it is. In a few weeks, we'll know better."

"In a few weeks, he'll be walking?"

"I didn't say that. Children have their own time table. But I'll set up a program where we'll strengthen his muscles, encourage him and motivate him."

Logan made a sudden decision before he thought better of it. "You'll be able to come here to do it?"

Her eyes widened in surprise. "I thought just the evaluation would be here."

"I'll pay double. It will save me time running back and forth to your practice in Lubbock."

She thought about it. "I suppose one of my therapists—"

He cut in, "Aren't you the most qualified?"

"Yes, but..."

"Then I want you to handle his care." Logan couldn't believe he was inviting Gina back into his home. Judging by her silence, she was just as surprised. But he had to do what was best for Daniel. On the other hand, if he was honest with himself, he also had to admit he wanted to see the woman she'd become...if she felt regrets for leaving the way she had and turning her back on him.

Why did he even care?

He cared because when he looked at her...his body responded as it had when he was in his twenties. He resented that fact. He'd been happily married. He still missed the woman who had given her life for their son. Any reaction to Gina came from the past and he had to douse it. Daniel was his only focus now.

When Gina's gaze met his, he saw emotion flicker there. He thought he saw the corner of her lip quiver. That used to happen when she was upset or nervous. He was sure she was going to refuse his offer.

Instead, she straightened her back and didn't look away. "I can handle some of Daniel's treatment here, but I'll need him at Baby Grows for sessions, too. I can't start a program without you agreeing to that."

There was a bit of steel in her tone and an assertiveness she'd lacked as a teenager. She'd obviously grown into a strong woman.

Just as Amy had been strong, an inner voice reminded him. Just as Amy had been unbending in her determination to keep Daniel safe.

"How often?"

"That depends on my schedule. I can commit to one evening a week."

"That's fine." He thought about his busy May schedule...watching Gina with Daniel even on a limited basis...and added, "When I can't be here, Hannah will be."

"Logan, you need to participate in the program I set up. That's important to Daniel."

Something about his name on her lips shook him a little. It cracked the vault of memories he'd carefully sealed and buried. "All right, I'll make sure I'm available. Is there anything else you need from me right now?"

She looked as if she was debating with herself but finally answered, "No."

"Daniel and I have a routine at bedtime. I don't want to disrupt that. Hannah will see you out."

The room had become stifling with them both in it. Memories seemed to dance between them, muddling the past with the present. He needed to hold his son and forget about what had happened so long ago.

He headed for the doorway.

"Logan?"

When he turned to face Gina again, she looked vulnerable. He almost crossed the room, almost gave in to the instinct to reassure her that everything would be all right, as he might have once done.

Now he kept silent.

Appearing flustered for a moment, she finally said, "Call me tomorrow to set up an appointment." She took a card from her pocket, covered the distance between them, and handed it to him. "All my numbers are on there. If you can't reach me at Baby Grows, you can reach me on my cell phone or at home."

His fingers grazed hers as he took the card and willed his body not to record the brief contact. His voice became rough as he responded, "Thanks."

Then he left Gina in Daniel's playroom and breathed a deep sigh of relief.

#

On Saturday morning, Gina sat in the small parlor off the living room in the old Victorian house in Sagebrush, tapping her foot, too edgy to admire the chintz material on the love seat, the dragonfly Tiffany lamp sitting on the corner of the library table she and her housemate Raina used as a desk. Her heart practically tripped over itself as she waited for Logan to answer his cell phone. She had to change the appointment the two of them had set up for Daniel a few days ago. It just couldn't be helped.

"Barnes," he answered in a clipped voice and she heard machinery in the background.

"Logan, it's Gina."

"Hold on a minute," he said to her. "I need to move into an area where I can hear you."

She guessed he was at the denim factory the Barnes family had owned and operated for decades.

Finally he said, "Okay, I'm in my office. What's up?"

Anyone listening in would think they knew each other...would think maybe they were friends again. Friends. Could they even come close to that?

"Logan, I need to change Daniel's appointment. Can we switch it from Monday night to Wednesday night?"

He was quiet for a few moments, then responded, "Gina, if you don't have time to do this, maybe I should find someone else."

They were going to have to clear the air at some point and bring everything out into the open...what had happened since she'd left. Not even her parents knew she'd been raped during her first year at college. But now just wasn't the right time to go into it with Logan.

"I'd like to help Daniel if I can, but Family Tree set up a meeting for all its practitioners on Monday evening. There are budget and billing concerns and the decision to have the meeting was made just last night. It's not something I can opt out of."

The only sound she heard was her pulse in her temples, then Logan's deep baritone, a little lower and huskier now. It affected her the way it always had, making her nerve endings come alive.

"I see. I shouldn't have jumped to the conclusion you didn't want to treat Daniel. But in our situation—"

"I don't run from patients who need me."

"No, but you might run from me."

Because she had run once before. She couldn't get into that over the phone. "So will Wednesday at six work for you?" she asked, ignoring his comment.

After a pause, he agreed, "It will work. We'll see how Daniel responds that time of evening. If you think the appointments need to be during the day, I'll take off work if I have to."

"You're there now?"

"Yes. A malfunction with one of the machines."

"Is it unusual for you to be there on a Saturday?"

"Not really. If we have orders, we cut the material. That's the only way to stay ahead these days. Fortunately, denim is as popular as it ever was, all different grades, old ways of making it and new."

They could talk about his business or…she could say what was in her heart.

"Logan, the other night, I wanted to tell you how sorry I am about your wife."

"Thank you." His voice was strained.

"Sometime maybe you can tell me about it. That might help me with Daniel."

"You have his medical records. You know he was premature. That's all you need."

She shouldn't have said anything because he wasn't going to give an inch with her...even after all these years. He wasn't going to tell her what his life was about, except for Daniel. Maybe she'd feel the same way if she'd lost her spouse.

"I didn't mean to pry. Really. But children are little sponges. Emotions play into their physical development."

She could hear Logan blow out a breath. "If there's anything that I think will help Daniel, I'll tell you. I'll see you at six on Wednesday."

"Six on Wednesday," she repeated. She thought she heard him murmur, "Good-bye, Gina" but she couldn't be sure.

When she said good-bye, he was no longer there.

Chapter Two

The following Tuesday evening, Gina stirred the pot of soup then tasted it. She wrinkled her nose. Why didn't her minestrone ever taste like her mother's?

She was replacing the lid when she heard the front door slam. Raina called, "I'm home. What smells so good?"

"Soup. And I stopped for a loaf of bread to go with it. Are you hungry?"

"For your soup? Yes."

Raina Greystone Gibson entered the kitchen. She was a beautiful woman with a Cheyenne heritage. Her hair was long, flowing past her shoulders. Usually she wore a headband or clipped it in a low ponytail the way it was tonight. It appeared black until she stood in the sun and chestnut highlights gleamed. Gina had liked the pediatric ear, nose, and throat doctor immediately when she'd met her at Family Tree. Not long after, she'd learned Raina had returned to Sagebrush from New York City where her husband, a firefighter, had been killed on September 11.

"Is Lily still joining us?" Gina asked, hoping the fertility specialist also practicing at Family Tree hadn't been held up.

"Yes, I told her she could drive over with me, but she had errands to run first. She'll be here in a little while. She was glad we invited her for dinner since Troy had a meeting. I'm not sure how she'll handle it when he's employed to the Middle East."

This summer Lily's husband Troy, a member of the Texas Army National Guard, would be deployed for pre- mission training. Lily wouldn't even think about later in the summer when he was gone.

"The support group for military families will help her and so will we."

Raina went to the cupboard and began removing dishes she could use to set the table. "Speaking of support, I really enjoyed dinner with your family on Sunday."

Gina removed the lid from the soup again and stirred it. "My mom said you're invited again this week. Everyone liked you. Especially my nephew Evan. I think he has a crush on you." Raina laughed. "Since he's twelve, give him a week and he'll have a crush on someone else."

Shortly after Raina had moved in with Gina, she'd admitted she didn't date. She'd also confided she never intended to marry again. She understood loving and losing better than most.

Maybe that was what prompted Gina to ask, "Do you know Logan Barnes?"

After closing the cupboard, Raina glanced at Gina. "The Logan Barnes? The CEO of Barnes Denim? The mover and shaker who dines with the governor and owns real estate from San Diego to Sydney...the man who set up a charitable foundation to fund cancer research?" She'd listed some of his accomplishments as if to say that everyone, especially in the state of Texas, had heard of him.

"That would be the one," Gina confirmed.

"We don't exactly move in the same circles," Raina said, flashing Gina a grin. Why?"

"I met Logan when I graduated from high school. His father hired me to work in the stables on the estate. Logan and I...well, we connected that summer."

Raina took the dishes to the table. How serious?"

Gina remembered his mother's antique locket that he'd given her after they'd made love for the first time. She'd returned it when she'd said good-bye. "He wanted me to stay and marry him, but I left and went to college," Gina explained as simply as she could. "I ran into him this week and... It's obvious he's still angry with me."

Now Raina studied Gina. "Does it matter to you? That he's angry?"

If that wasn't a perceptive question. "Yes, I guess it does. After all these years, I thought maybe he'd think of me less harshly."

"Was college the only reason you broke up with him?"

One of the qualities Gina admired most about Raina was her ability to see deeply into any situation.

"Lots of reasons." She thought about Logan's father, his warning that he'd disinherit Logan if she got too serious about him. She recalled her parents' advice and her older sister, Josie's practical admonition not to marry too young—because she'd had to. "I had a full scholarship," Gina explained to Raina. "No one in our family had graduated from college. But mainly Logan's father had his own ideas about who Logan should marry. I was too insecure to stay and fight for our love. I didn't think I had a chance. I thought about coming back and marrying him after I got to college, but then something happened that changed my life and I was on a different track."

"Changed your life?"

Even though Gina and Raina had only known each other a few months, Raina was fast becoming a trusted friend. Gina considered telling her about the date rape that had occurred two months into her first college semester.

The doorbell rang.

"That must be Lily," Raina said, halting their conversation with a concerned look.

"It's okay," Gina assured her. "We can talk about it another time."

Raina nodded. "Any time you want to."

When the doorbell rang again, she crossed the kitchen to the living room, unaware of what Gina had been about to disclose.

Moments later, Gina heard Lily's voice. As she entered the kitchen, Gina smiled broadly at the bubbly blonde who seemed to bring sunshine with her whenever she stepped into the room.

Lily held a bag in her arms and set it on the eat-in counter.

"I told you you didn't have to bring anything," Gina protested.

"I didn't bring much. Just a couple of deli salads and..." She produced half of a chocolate cake with peanut butter icing. "I thought we needed a little decadence."

Gina didn't know when she'd last felt decadent.

"Thank you," she said, meaning it, glad she'd taken the time to get to know Lily at a practitioner's cocktail party at the Family Tree. Lily's specialty practice enabled women to conceive. She was upbeat, always ready with a smile and a hug.

Lily glanced around the kitchen to the patio beyond. "You two are lucky to have found this place. It's a great house."

"It's big, but it's cozy, too," Raina assured her. "It kind of wraps itself around you. When I first walked into the foyer to consider living here with Gina, it felt like home. It's hard to explain."

"You have heard the rumor about it, haven't you?" Lily asked.

"What rumor?" both women returned.

"Well, since Tessa Rossi, Emily Madison and Francesca Fitzgerald all lived here and have now gotten married, supposedly, the rumor is, any woman who lives here will find true love."

"I like the rumor," Gina said. "But I think it's wishful thinking."

"Maybe for me," Raina decided. "But what about you?"

Lily looked from one woman to the other. "What don't I know...besides the obvious million things?"

Gina felt heat creep into her cheeks. "I...ran into someone I used to date before I left Sagebrush for college."

"There's a story there." Lily's blue eyes twinkled.

"There certainly is," Gina agreed. "But it will keep. Bring over those soup dishes and we'll start our meal with minestrone."

"An old family recipe?" Lily asked hopefully, apparently aware Gina wanted to change the topic. "One that you can share?"

"Well, I can share it. Just don't ever tell my mother that I put canned tomatoes in the pot. She'd be horrified."

Gina focused on the soup recipe and the meal she was about to share with her two friends, sure she could prevent herself from thinking about Logan and Daniel.

Couldn't she?

#

Logan never expected to be in this position...in his house with Gina playing with his son in the family room. His and Amy's son.

On Wednesday evening, Gina encouraged Daniel to fall onto the ball that was just his size. She'd brought a mat along, too, so if he tumbled off, he wouldn't hurt himself.

"Come on, Daniel. Let's rock back and forth." She was holding his hands as he lay over the ball and pushed with his feet.

Logan knew they weren't actually playing. They were working. But Daniel would never suspect that, not from the way Gina interacted with him.

"We never use this room," Logan said to himself, but it must have been loud enough for Gina to hear.

"Why not? It's a beautiful room."

She was right. It was. The carpet was plush and an ocean blue. The draperies were thick. The furniture was a mixture of tan and gray and blue-green, cushiony and comfortable. If he ever wanted to watch a game on the huge flat screen TV, he'd feel as if he were in the middle of it.

Something Logan couldn't define urged him to be honest with Gina. "My wife redecorated this room. I thought we'd be playing on the floor with Daniel, watching kid videos with him on the TV."

After their gazes held for a long moment, Gina broke eye contact and let Daniel roll off the ball. She tussled with him a couple of minutes, making him laugh, then she let him sit there with a few toys just to see what he would do.

"Would you rather I move Daniel into his playroom? I'd like him out of his comfort zone so he'll have to go a distance to get to wherever he wants."

"The room's here," Logan responded offhandedly. "We might as well use it."

Their gazes locked again, and he saw something on Gina's face that stabbed at his heart. Was it regret? Was it guilt?

He almost moved closer to her, anything to relieve the tension that had pulled between them from the moment she'd walked back into his life.

The tension was abruptly broken when Hannah came rushing into the room. "That reporter's here again, Logan. He wants to do a story on you for the Style section of the Sunday paper. What should I tell him?"

"I'll take care of it," Logan assured her and strode out of the room, glad for the interruption, glad to escape the web of emotion that seemed to surround him whenever Gina was within arm's reach.

#

After Logan left the family room, Hannah declared, "He doesn't like publicity, so that makes reporters want to come after him even more."

Before Gina could think better of it, she said, "If I remember correctly, Logan's father didn't like publicity, either."

Hannah shot her a quizzical look. "You knew Elliot Barnes?"

"I can't say I knew him. He was my employer one summer."

Watching Daniel play with the toys Gina had given him, Hannah sat on the sofa. "Oh, I see. The two men are as different as night and day, though. Mr. Barnes senior didn't want publicity because he just didn't want to be bothered. After his stroke, he became quite a recluse. Little by little, he turned everything over to Logan. Now Logan, on the other hand, doesn't want publicity because he thinks it's foolish and should be saved for something important—like the charities he backs—not a dinner he's giving or an event he's attending. But reporters always want to know all about his life. That's when Logan clams up."

Gina hadn't known Elliot Barnes had suffered a stroke. Had it been severe? She was about to ask Hannah when Daniel crawled to his nanny and pleaded, "Up?"

She looked down at him with a fond smile. "Oh, no. I'm not picking you up. Those are the new rules."

Gina laughed. "I'll bet they are. That smile of his and those green eyes could melt any heart."

Daniel tugged on Hannah's slacks.

"I gave him quite a workout," Gina relented. "I think we're finished for today."

"We've gotten an official okay," Hannah said to Daniel as she stooped over and lifted him. "Time for your supper." She glanced at the balls, blocks, and the push toy Gina had brought along. "Do you need help gathering all that?"

"Oh, no. You take care of Daniel. I'll be fine."

After Hannah left the room with the toddler, Gina began collecting what she'd brought. She'd been strung tight ever since she'd entered the house. Usually when she was working with a child, that baby was her main focus. Daniel had been her focus, but she'd also been aware of Logan watching her...aware of Logan. There was a vibrating energy connecting them, like a live wire. She didn't know how to break it, deflect it, or let it burn out.

When Logan reentered the room, he'd rolled up his white shirt sleeves and opened the first few buttons of his shirt. He looked strong. Totally male. Absolutely sexy.

She swallowed hard, realizing how much she was still attracted to him. "Trouble?" she asked, just to say something.

"No. Just an eager journalism student wanting to make a name for himself."

Gina moved toward the corner of the mat she'd opened on the plush carpeting to give extra padding. As she folded it, Logan came to help her. They practically brushed shoulders. Both jerked away.

She knew she had to do something about the awkwardness between them. "Logan, I don't have to be the one who helps Daniel."

Logan rubbed his hand up and down the back of his neck. "No, I suppose you don't. But he obviously relates well to you. I don't want to mess with that. Hannah's been the only woman in his life since he was born."

"What happened?" Gina asked softly.

Logan's green gaze was penetrating as he studied her, trying to decipher why she wanted to know.

Finally he answered, "One day Amy and I were on top of the world, the next an earthquake destroyed everything we thought we were building."

As if he knew he was being cryptic, he sat on the sofa, studied the carpet for a few moments, then met Gina's gaze. Something in his eyes drew her to him and she lowered herself beside him, though not too close.

When he started talking, Gina knew he didn't discuss this often because his voice was strained.

"Amy was ecstatic when she discovered she was pregnant," he began. "We'd been married a few years, and we both wanted kids. She'd been working hard at her career— she was a real estate agent and intended to keep selling properties after our baby was born. But soon after she learned she was pregnant, she had symptoms that sent us to a neurologist and then a neurosurgeon. She had a brain tumor."

Gina desperately wanted to reach out to Logan, to touch his arm. Yet she couldn't. She had no right. "I'm so sorry." She was. She'd never wanted anything but happiness for him. That's why she'd left.

Logan didn't seem to hear her. He stared across the room and explained, "Her doctor wanted to treat the cancer aggressively but Amy wouldn't let him do surgery or put anything in her body that could damage Daniel. She decided if she survived the pregnancy, she'd have treatment after our baby was born. But that day never came. She had a stroke at thirty-two weeks. The doctors performed a C- section and she died shortly after."

One look at Logan's face and Gina knew he was reliving that time in his life. Did he want comfort? Did he want sympathy? Or did he just need to look forward?

Gina didn't want to trample over sacred ground so she asked, "How long was Daniel in the hospital?"

"Eight weeks...a terrifically long eight weeks."

"Who was his doctor?"

"Francesca Talbott. I think it's Fitzgerald now."

"Yes, it is. She shared the house with me until she got married," Gina said softly.

"It really is a small world, isn't it?" he asked, finally looking at her.

"It can be."

After a silence-filled pause, Logan asked, "Did you marry?"

His question surprised her. "No."

What would he say if she told him what happened? It really made no difference to their relationship. She'd left him, no matter what had happened afterward. "I've been focused on my work all these years, trying to make a name in my field."

"So why come back to Sagebrush now?" He looked genuinely perplexed.

"I'm not exactly sure. I began missing my family more. I knew I needed something different—closer friends, bonds, actual fun."

The lines on Logan's face told her he hadn't had fun in a long time, not since before his wife died. Daniel might bring him joy, but Gina had the feeling it was fleeting.

"We really don't have to work in here, Logan. I understand how memories can suck the air out of the room."

Logan shrugged. "If I get used to seeing Daniel playing in here, crawling in here, maybe eventually walking in here, it will be fine."

She could only imagine what Logan had been through— his wife's diagnosis, losing her and at the same time dealing with Daniel's hospital stay. "It takes a while to recover from any trauma." She knew that all too well. Counseling sessions and talking and crying and just putting one foot in front of the other, even when you thought you couldn't, took energy, motivation and sometimes steel- will. Logan had all of those. Still...

Logan stared at a picture of Daniel on a side table.

Gina assured him, "He's a wonderful little boy. Quick and learning more each day. When I arrived, I suggested to Hannah if you fill the two bottom cupboards in the kitchen with pots and pans, colorful containers, anything Daniel might feel he'd like to get into, that might give him more motivation to explore his world."

Logan was quiet a moment, then he turned his focus to her. "I guess parents are always supposed to teach their kids to explore the world."

"That gets scarier for both the parents and kids as they get older. Learning to walk across the room suddenly becomes all-day kindergarten and then piano lessons, and then driving and dating!"

Logan remarked, "Your parents encouraged you to explore your world. Your education was as important to them as it was to you."

"It wasn't just my education," Gina said quietly, hoping she could break through the icy wall Logan had constructed between them.

"I know. There was your younger sister. Did she eventually go to school?"

"Yes, she did. Angie is a nurse and I'm proud of her." If only they could keep talking—

Suddenly Logan stood. "It's good you don't have any regrets."

She hadn't said she didn't have regrets.

Logan went on, "This is bath night and it's one of the things I enjoy doing most with my son, at least until he gets old enough to ride a horse. I'll help you gather this up and walk you out."

As he stuffed a toy elephant and lion into one of her draw-string bags, she asked him, "Are you still angry that I left?"

His answer was slow in coming as his gaze finally met hers. "I'll probably always be angry that you left. But...if you hadn't left, I wouldn't have Daniel. I love him more than anything in this world."

There was nothing she could say to that.

#

A few days later, when Gina stopped in at the Target that had recently opened in Sagebrush, she ran through the baby department. It was a habit, keeping her eye out on the latest trends in toys and car seats, in strollers and play furniture. Tonight, she pushed her cart around the corner into the toy department. There, she stopped cold.

Logan stood in front of a shelf, holding a remote control car in one arm, studying the RC truck directly in front of him.

For a nanosecond, Gina thought about turning around and going the other way. Logan didn't have to know she'd seen him. He didn't have to know she was here. But that was the coward's way out. She was no longer a coward. At least she hoped she wasn't.

Rolling her cart up beside him, she asked, "Looking for a new hobby?"

He went still, then he turned to face her. "No," he drawled in that Texas deep baritone that had always curled her toes. "I thought Hannah and I might take bets on who could run their car across the yard the fastest."

Gina laughed at his wry tone. "I bet Daniel would enjoy that. He might even chase one."

"That's the idea," Logan assured her.

At that moment, they both understood the motivation Daniel needed to learn to walk. It was the first tension- free moment she and Logan had shared.

He nodded to her cart filled with three pairs of shorts and a few knit tops. "New wardrobe for summer?" he joked.

Actually it was. She didn't owe him any explanations but she explained anyway. "I lost a few pounds so I needed something that fit a little better than what was in my closet."

"Intentionally?"

"What?" she asked, lost in his eyes for the moment.

"Did you lose weight intentionally?"

He was looking at her in a way that made her nerve endings dance. She hadn't felt that way when a man looked at her for a very long time. "No, not intentionally. With the move, a new job, a new life really, it just happened."

"Are you glad you moved back here?"

Standing here face to face with Logan, she wasn't quite sure how to answer. Finally she responded, "I like the life I'm building. I like the new friends I've made. My practice is rewarding and it's good to be near family again."

"You stayed away a long time."

"Yes, I did, in part because I didn't want to face you."

For a moment, Logan's guard slipped and he looked astonished. Was he surprised she'd been so honest? Maybe that's what they needed between them, some old-fashioned honesty. Just how far was she willing to go with it?

"You didn't have to face me," he said evenly.

"We live in a small town, Logan. I knew eventually I'd run into you."

"Why didn't you send someone else from Baby Grows to evaluate Daniel?"

She expected this question had been bothering him since the night she'd appeared at his house. "As I told you, I do all the evaluations. I wasn't going to shirk my responsibility."

He seemed to mull that over. "You're an expert in your field."

"Some people would say that."

"And now that we have come face to face?" he asked, his voice challenging.

"I'd like you to forgive me," she blurted out, without considering the consequences.

There seemed to be a sudden hush all around them. Then Logan shifted, adjusting the toy under his arm. "I don't know what to say to that. When you left, the bottom dropped out of my world in more ways than one. I've never forgotten how that felt. I've never forgotten how you didn't even have time to have a conversation when I called you in Connecticut."

She couldn't deal with this here. What had she expected when she'd started this? That it would be easy? That he'd forgive her and they'd go on being friends?

"Logan, things had happened..."

He gave a short laugh. "Yes, I'm sure they had. You probably met someone at school and—"

"No, nothing like that."

He looked startled at her vehemence. "You're not the same Gina you were fourteen years ago."

"I certainly hope not." She tried to keep her tone light. They hadn't spent enough time together to know how each other had changed.

Logan cocked his head, studying her with those penetrating eyes that had so often seen right through her. But not tonight. She held secrets he'd never know about unless they could find more common ground than this.

If she brought the conversation back to Daniel, maybe the tension between them would ease. "I was thinking..." she said slowly.

He waited for her to go on.

"Can you to bring Daniel to Baby Grows on Saturday? I'd like to ask Tessa to stop in with her two children and I want to watch Daniel react with them, play with them. We have more equipment there, too."

"Tessa won't mind giving up her Saturday morning?"

"After rounds, she usually takes the kids to the library. She said she'd just bring them to Baby Grows instead."

"All right, I can do that. Do you have appointments before Daniel, or do you want me to pick you up?"

Logan had always been a gentleman, and thoroughly polite. He was being courteous now and she shouldn't read any more into his offer than that. "I do have other appointments, but thanks for offering." Before she saw more recriminations in his eyes, she pointed to the shelf. "So which one are you going to buy?"

"You have a car when you work with him. I think I'll go with the truck."

"What about Hannah?"

He rewarded her with a small smile. "Maybe she'd like the motorcycle."

Gina laughed. "She probably would."

After he stacked the motorcycle on top of the truck, he asked her, "Are you finished shopping?"

"Yes."

"I'll walk you out."

More courtesy? Her heart was already in overdrive and now it sped up a little more.

Walking beside Logan, she was reminded just how tall he was, just how broad his shoulders were, just how slim his hips were in his black jeans. He walked enough distance away that their arms wouldn't brush. She didn't glance at him, but she felt him looking at her. She pretended not to be affected by either his presence beside her, or his gaze on her, but she was.

At the checkout line, they didn't speak as she used her credit card, then picked up her packages. He went through and paid in cash.

Then he took her bag from her. "I'll carry this to your car for you."

Being with Logan was a combination of bittersweet and exciting. She knew he'd be relieved if he went his way and she went hers, yet she didn't want to leave his company. Just like so many years ago.

At her car, she used the remote to unlock the doors and pop the trunk. They went around to the back and he dropped her purchases inside. There was a duffel bag there.

"Do you belong to a gym?" he asked as if he was curious about her life now.

"No, but I walk whenever I can. In Lubbock at lunchtime, sometimes I do a couple of laps around the Center. In Sagebrush, I like to take the trail around the lake."

"You always did like the outdoors." He slammed the lid of her trunk.

"I still do. I hiked a lot in New England. Here, I'd like to take up riding again. Francesca and I have gone on a couple of trail rides at her ranch. I've ridden at Tessa's, too. I'd forgotten how wonderful it feels to be on horseback."

Logan walked to her car door and stood very close, so close she could reach up and touch his jawline, so close she could see that the lines around his eyes and his mouth weren't superficial. They'd been carved from pain. All she wanted to do was ease them away.

"You asked me about forgiving you..." His voice was low and husky.

She held her breath and waited.

"I can't give you an answer, Gina, and I don't know if time will help or not. That night after we split up, my father had a stroke."

That night. A rush of dread made her cold all over. "What happened?" He looked away from her as if warring with himself over the answer. "We argued about you."

Her chest felt tight. "Why?" "I went riding after you left, trying to figure out what to do. When I got back to the barn, dad confronted me. He said I was better off without you. But I didn't believe that. I was going to talk to your parents...convince them they were interfering and they shouldn't be...convince you that we could make something work long distance. Dad grabbed my arm. I tore away. And then— Suddenly he couldn't speak and he collapsed."

Gina was stunned. A tiny shard of guilt pierced her heart at the realization that she hadn't been there for Logan.

"I called the paramedics and he was rushed to the hospital. We managed to keep all of it quiet. Dad abhorred publicity and the hospital and medical personnel were cooperative. His recovery took about three months. He was fortunate he regained his speech and most of his mobility. But the whole process was—" Logan halted as if he didn't want to admit how much his father's collapse and recovery had affected him.

"I'm so sorry," she managed to say, feeling so much sympathy for him tears welled in her eyes. "Three months," she murmured. "That's around when you called—"

"I was hoping we could just talk. I was hoping—" He shook his head. "But you didn't have time to talk. You had to run off to take a test."

"You never called again," she said softly, remembering how numb she'd been after the rape for such a long time. She had had a test that day. But more important, she'd been too raw to talk to anyone. Should she tell Logan that? Could he possibly understand? No. This wasn't about her. The distance between them was all about her letting Logan down in so many ways. If she had fought for the love she'd felt for him, then maybe more than one tragedy could have been avoided.

"Logan, I don't know what to say."

"You don't have to say anything."

She heard a car door slam...children laughing near the store's exit.

So much had happened to both of them. She'd lost her sense of safety, her trust in her judgment, her trust in men. Logan had gone on to marry and lost a wife he'd obviously loved. He now had a son his wife had died to save. How much more he must love her for that. How much he must cherish Daniel as the gift his wife had given him.

The twelve-foot-high parking lot light lit up the area where Gina's car was parked. In the blink of an eye, she thought she saw a flash of tenderness in Logan's eyes. But then whatever emotion he'd felt disappeared.

They'd been standing as close as two people having an intimate conversation would be, but now he took a step back. "I'll see you Saturday morning at Baby Grows."

Her throat tightened and she wanted to reach out and hug him, hold onto him, cry with him. Instead, she simply nodded.

A few feet away, Logan waited until she slid into her car, closed the door, and started the engine. Then he strode to his car as she drove away, swiping at the lone tear that rolled down her cheek.