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“What about your mother?” he said.

“She never rode. Never mind there’s no way she could catch eighty pounds of flailing eleven-year-old. But it’s okay, I’ve got some time yet to figure it out—”

“Hey, guys!” In a flutter of long blond hair, Val appeared with a wriggly one-year-old in her arms. Propping one hand on Zach’s shoulder, she lowered herself to the ground in front of Mallory, only to wobble precariously when Risa suddenly lurched to one side. Zach reached for the kid before she landed on her noggin, getting a drooly grin for his efforts. From the baby, not Val.

“Honestly, you little monkey,” she said, cupping the baby’s dark curls, then turned back to Mallory. “Levi and I were wondering if you and your mama would like to come to the wedding tomorrow out at the Vista?”

“I don’t... What?”

“I know it’s last minute and all, but half the town will be there, anyway, probably. And between Gus and AJ and Annie there’s gonna be enough food to feed the five thousand.” Then she turned to Zach and winked. “And anyway, this dude needs a date.”

“Excuse me?”

“Hey, Dorelle,” Val called over, ignoring him. “Wanna come to our wedding?”

Mallory’s mother sucked in a breath like she’d been invited to Buckingham Palace. “Ohmigosh, I’d be honored. What can I bring?”

“Absolutely nothing,” Val said, reclaiming her babbling daughter. “So that’s settled then. You don’t have to dress up or anything, I imagine most people’ll be in jeans, anyway. And no gifts, you hear? It’s at three, but you can get there pretty much any time after two...”

Then she started back up to her fiancé and older daughter, stopping to chat with at least a half dozen people on her way. Mallory pushed out a little laugh. “She’s like a sudden storm, isn’t she?”

“These days? For sure.”

“You ever notice how contagious other people’s happiness is?”

“Is it?”

“It is if you let it be.”

He thought about that for a second. “I suppose. Still. You don’t have to come if you don’t want to.”

“And leave my mother to her own devices with a bunch of handsome cowboys? Not a chance. Besides, Val’s right—you do need a date.”

His mouth open to protest, Zach looked over to see amusement flashing in her eyes, and achingly vivid memories exploded behind his. Of sweet times, happy times, now lost forever except in his memory. But filtered through those memories was something else, something equally achy if not quite as sweet, filmed over with about a million layers of guilt:

Need.

His gaze drifted to Mallory’s mouth, a mouth he suddenly wanted to taste so badly it made him a little dizzy. He thought of how they’d flirted earlier, with temptation, with possibilities, with things barely acknowledged before they’d shoved them back into whatever deep, dark hole they’d popped out of—

“Daddy?” He looked to see Liam standing beside him, shivering so hard he was blurred. “I’m c-cold.” Zach instantly shrugged off his jacket to wrap it around the little guy, but judging from the kid’s blue lips they were done here.

“Wanna go home?” Zach said, hauling the kid into his arms as he stood.

He let out a wobbly yawn. “Uh-huh.”

“Aw, poor little guy,” Mallory said, reaching for Liam’s hand, prompting a brief, quivering smile in return. “I’m guessing nap time?”

“Only three-year-old in the world who still takes ’em.”

“Lucky you. But Jeremy can stay with Mom and me, if he wants.”

“Oh. Well, I’m sure Levi and Val—”

“They already left. Yeesh, you guys are dropping like flies. Or at least your kids are.”

He looked down at Liam, then back at Mallory. “If you’re sure..?”

“Wouldn’t’ve offered if I wasn’t. Besides, Mom’s in hog heaven, in case you hadn’t noticed.”

Zach glanced over at Dorelle and Jeremy, deep in conversation about heaven knew what. Ever since he was little, the kid had had a way of zeroing in on people who maybe needed a little extra attention, who were lonely or unhappy or whatever. Like his mama, Zach realized. Zach also remembered those times when he was a kid and the family would have to leave someplace early because Levi and Josh—seven years younger than Zach—had reached their breaking point. And how pissed he’d been at them for ruining his fun. Of course, all was forgiven once he was old enough to drive and could fend for himself. But back then...

“Then thanks,” he said to Mallory. “I live right next to the clinic—”

“I know. So go. We’ll be fine. But...” Her eyes twinkled. “Is it a date? For your brother’s wedding?” She grinned. “Because whatever a bride wants on her wedding day, she should get, right?”

Not a real date, of course. He knew that. As did she. Still. He wondered which of them this was a bigger step for?

“Right. So you want me to pick you up or...?”

“No, it’s probably easier if we meet you over there. Around two-thirty?”

“Sounds good,” he said, then called to Jeremy, “Liam’s cold, I’m taking him home. You okay with staying with Mallory and Dorelle?”

His oldest gave him a thumb’s-up—honestly—and Zach hitched Liam higher up in his arms before looking down at Mallory, into those soft gray eyes that would be the death of him. Not to mention the smile barely curving that mouth. And he thought,
Sounds
good?
In what universe
?

Because he’d meant what he’d said, he thought a few minutes later as he punched on the truck’s heat and drove his sleepy, freezing little boy home, about never wanting to get sucked in like that, ever again. Not that he didn’t love his boys more than his own life, but those were his kids. Loving them wasn’t an option, it was simply fact. They were part of him, part of Heidi. All he had left of her. But Heidi had been the only person he’d ever loved that hard.

The only time he’d let down his guard, or acted out of character, or whatever you wanted to call it. Unlike his brothers, who’d all done their fair share of crazy over the years, Zach had always prided himself on his practicality, his ability to weigh the pros and cons of things from a logical perspective before deciding whether or not to act on them. Until Heidi, who’d knocked logic on its ass—or at least, had knocked Zach on his—and he’d fallen so hard and so deep he couldn’t’ve found his way back out if you’d put a gun to his head. He hadn’t only been
in
love, he’d been totally and irrevocably
lost
in it. And look what that had cost him.

True, if it hadn’t been for all that illogic he wouldn’t have the boys, so there was that. And that was a lot. A helluva lot, actually, he mused as he cut the engine in front of his house, then went around the car to scoop a now-sleeping Liam out of his seat, and the little boy slumped heavily against Zach’s shoulder, his sticky-sour smell twisting itself around Zach’s heart like it always did. He couldn’t imagine life without these two. In that way, he was beyond blessed.

But that didn’t change the fact that the pain of losing their mother was still there. And always would be. Happiness, he’d learned, came at a heavy price. A far heavier price than he would willingly pay again.

So that flirting business with Mallory earlier...that could not happen again. Wouldn’t.

He carried Liam down the hall into the tiny room he shared with his brother, lowering him onto the rumpled toddler bed before covering him with the pathetically worn little lion quilt Heidi had made for Jeremy before he was born. Zach smiled, remembering the tears in Heidi’s eyes when four-year-old Jeremy dragged the ratty quilt into their room after Liam was born and tried to stuff it into the bassinet, declaring it was Liam’s now. Zach gently fingered the faded patches, the uneven stitching—a lot more love than skill had gone into the thing, but she’d been so proud of it. And he’d been so proud of her—

He slugged his hands into his back pockets, frowning when the image of Mallory seated on Henry’s back usurped the one of his wife, the triumph in those gray eyes pushing aside the laughter in Heidi’s brown ones, and he thanked God there were no choices to be made, really. That whatever Mallory’s reasons for coming here—for hiding—that triumphant moment was a turning point. That if she’d overcome whatever had kept her from doing something she obviously loved so much, it was a pretty safe bet she’d also overcome whatever was keeping her from going home, being with her son full-time.

From finding someone who’d love her the way she deserved to be loved, with no reservations. No fear. Who wouldn’t even think twice about surrendering his whole heart and soul to her.

The way he had with Heidi.

In the meantime, he could be her “date” for his brother’s wedding, and maybe store up some of that joy for when she wasn’t around anymore.

He leaned over to kiss Liam’s temple, smiling when the little boy stirred in his sleep. This was his life now.

And it was enough.

* * *

“You came!”

The newly minted Mrs. Talbot swooped down on Mallory, giving her a big hug that smelled of white roses and some fruity perfume, the sweet scents pleasantly blending with the tang of burning piñon in the fireplace, the aromas of Mexican spices from the buffet being set out on the other side of the huge room.

Returning the hug, Mallory smiled. “You didn’t exactly give me much of choice,” she said, and Val straightened, her hands on her hips. She made a breathtaking, if eccentric, bride, in a vintagey, knee-length ivory lace dress and cowboy boots, her gorgeous blond hair painstakingly done up in pearl-studded swirls.

“That was the idea,” Val said, grinning.

Mallory grinned back, even though the crowd—so much for a “small” wedding—was beginning to press in on her. This was nothing like the subdued, sophisticated hum of the LA parties she’d grown used to, that was for sure. In fact, the raucous roar of genuine laughter, of kids’ gleeful screeching as they zoomed around the room, took her back to her Texas childhood—in itself not a bad thing. But the fact remained that these weren’t her people, not really, no matter how welcoming they’d been. It was that thing about small towns again, how hard it was to really become part of something already seamlessly whole and complete.

But she’d also become an expert at living in the moment. So she reached for the bride’s hand and gave it a quick squeeze. “You look fantastic.”

Val beamed. “Thanks! I was all for wearing jeans, but poor Levi nearly blew a gasket. Said maybe this wasn’t my first wedding, but it was his. So this was our compromise. In fact, he picked out the dress. I know, right?” she said when Mallory’s mouth fell open. “Of course he nearly blew another gasket when I suggested he might wanna think about moonlighting as a bridal consultant—” A delicate little hiccup popped out of her mouth, which she covered with her hand, giggling. “Sorry. I rarely drink, since I have the alcohol tolerance of a gnat, Levi says.” She hiccupped again, then leaned closer. “But day-um, that sparkling wine is so
good
— Oh!”

Levi appeared, tugging his tipsy wife to his side, his wavy hair and sharp features giving off a definite leading-man vibe. Especially in his dress jeans and boots, the natty sports jacket hanging open over a white Western-style shirt with a silver-and-turquoise bolo tie. The baby girl in his other arm, her dark curls set off by a fetching white floral headband to go with the miniature version of her mama’s dress, added an extra touch of adorableness.

“And what are you doing over here all by yourself?” Levi asked Mallory. “Aren’t you supposed to be here with my brother?”

Ah, yes. Zach. Who’d fulfilled his duty, or whatever this was, efficiently and politely. Kindly, even. Since Mallory doubted he could be anything less. But with smiles that weren’t quite all there and a “Please don’t ask why” look in his eyes that of course made her want to do exactly that.

That made her wonder if the flirting had struck the same long neglected chord in him that it had in her...that sad, off-pitch
twang
of a sorely out-of-tune instrument.

Oh, yeah, she’d caught him looking at her mouth at the rodeo. Caught, too, how quickly he’d diverted his gaze, the slight flush in his cheeks after. And her girl bits—the ones she could still feel, anyway—had responded lickety-split, oh, yes, they had—

“He went off with your dad a few minutes ago, I have no idea why.” And Dorelle had vanished the moment the short ceremony ended, probably chatting up anyone who’d stopped long enough to take a breath. Not for the first time it crossed Mallory’s mind that her mother had never really been happy in LA, which had a nasty habit of swallowing people whole. And then spitting out the mangled remains.

“But it’s okay, I’m good. No, I mean it,” she said when Val frowned. A bit of a mama hen, that one. So Mallory smiled more brightly. “So go,” she said, shooing them off. “Enjoy your wedding, for cripes’ sake.”

Val leaned over to give her another hug, then let Levi steer her back to the party, and Mallory’s heart bubbled in her chest, a little, for the couple’s happiness. It was obvious how truly in tune with each other they were. A real-life Hollywood happy ending, she thought, smiling. Nice.

And this was quite possibly her only chance to escape.

Fortunately, no one noticed. Because of the crowd and the fire merrily crackling in the hearth, all the outside doors were open, letting in sweet trickles of fresh, cool air. Having already noticed clots of attendees pooling in the courtyard and side patio, Mallory made her way back out front, to that wonderful veranda with its stunning mountain views. And indeed, the clear, autumn-scented air enveloped her like a hug, if a chilly one. She pulled closed her pashmina shawl—a birthday gift from Russell, many moons ago—then wheeled out toward the veranda’s edge to take in the sun’s lengthening rays drenching the massive front yard in that lush, peachy gold unique to New Mexico.

Smiling, she filled her lungs with air so clean, so bright, it sparkled, then released a long, slow breath, as close to peaceful as she’d felt in a very long time. Even if it was as fleeting as that great ball of fire rapidly sinking behind the mountains.

“You hiding, too?”

Twa-a-a-ang.

Chapter Eight