heartfelt thanks ...

  When I l learned The Next Mrs. Blackthorne was again on The New York Times bestseller list, I was thrilled!  I want to personally thank all my readers for your support!
I sincerely appreciate having such loyal readers.

Amy's blond hair was too short for a ponytail these days and she pulled off her Stetson and set it on the saddle horn, then lifted the hair off her nape with both hands, so the breeze could reach the sweat and cool her. She was standing like that, eyes closed, when she heard hoofbeats.

"Hey!" a voice called to her. "I couldn't believe my eyes. It really is you.

Amy felt her heart speed at the sight of Luke. It was as though her thoughts had conjured him. She quickly dropped her hands and self-consciously wiped her palms against the thighs of her jeans. "What a nice surprise," she said with a smile.

She felt her smile widen and didn't try to stop it. She was glad to see him. He was a piece of her past that had been mostly good. For four years, Luke had been her best friend, someone she could tell anything.

But what they'd shared had happened a lifetime ago, when they'd been kids. She couldn't expect things to be the same. She'd certainly changed. He must have, too.

He was dressed much as she was, in a worn Western shirt, jeans and cowboy boots. She hadn't spoken to him since the night of her engagement party, when he'd come to her and begged her not to marry Carl Nash.

"You look good," she said. His brown hair was too long, as usual, down over his ears and his collar. His body was still lean, but his shoulders were broader than they'd been when he was a younger man, and his forearms, where the shirt was rolled up, looked sinewy and strong. His hands were large, but they'd always been big. They just seemed to fit his body better now.

His eyes, the color of sun-ripened tobacco, looked world-weary. That wasn't new either. But he seemed more adept at hiding his feelings than he'd been all those years ago.

"I heard you were coming for a visit," she said.

"That's funny. No one said a word to me about you being here."

She laughed at the indignation in his voice. "I didn't think our paths would cross."

"What are you doing here at Three Oaks."

"Your mom invited me to come riding when I had some free time." She shrugged. "I had some today."

"Where's your husband?"

"In Virginia." She had no desire to tell him about her marriage-or how ignominiously it had ended.

She could feel his eyes caressing her. He shouldn't be looking at a woman he believed was married with eyes so full of need.

"How are you?" she asked.

"Fine. You look like hell."

She laughed again. "Thanks. I see you're still incorrigibly honest when tact would serve you better."

"You look exhausted," he said. What have you been doing with yourself?"

"I keep busy," she said evasively.

"You nearly ran that horse into the ground. Exorcising demons?" he asked.

"Could be." She retrieved her hat from the saddle horn and set it low on her forehead.

"Where are you going in such a hurry?" he asked.

"I've got a luncheon engagement. I need to get back."

"Me, too," Luke said. "We can ride together."

Amy realized suddenly that Luke's mother had known Luke would be at lunch when she'd invited Amy to join them, but she could see no way to escape the obligation. "Fine,' she said, as she stepped back into the saddle. "You talk, I'll listen."

"What do you want to hear?"

"I know about your divorce," she said. "How are your kids?"

"Brynne and Midge are fine. I don't get to see enough of them," Luke said. "I heard you have a daughter the same age as my eldest."

"Yes. Honor's ten. She's the light of my life."

"How are your parents?" Luke asked.

"They're fine," she said. "I'd ask you about your mother, but I expect I know that better than you, since you haven't seen her."

"How do you know that?" Luke asked.

"I spoke with her this morning when I was saddling up at the stable at Three Oaks. She invited me back for lunch."

"Then we'll be having lunch together," Luke said. "Did you trailer your horse out here?"

"I rode the whole way."

"I've got a trailer than can take both horses," Luke said. "Your mare looks like she'd appreciate the ride."

Amy patted Lady's neck and said, "You're right about that. Sure. Why not?"

It didn't take them long to reach Luke's truck and load their horses onto the trailer. On the way back to the Homestead at Three Oaks Amy said, "Your mother is very proud of you."

"I've joined the establishment."

"I have to admit I never expected that of you."

Luke glanced at her and said, "Looks like you gave up on me too soon."

"Maybe I did," she said in a soft voice.

He hit the brakes hard and shoved the gearshift into Park. The horses snorted their displeasure as they shifted to keep their balance in the trailer. "Are you happy with him?" he demanded.

Amy stared at Luke with stricken eyes.

He grabbed her arms and turned her to face him. "Because all you have to do is say the word, and I'll be standing at your door, asking for another chance. Losing you was the biggest mistake-"

She put her hand over his mouth. "Don't say things you don't mean. We're different people now, Luke. I've gone on with my life and so have you. We can't go back. It's too late."

His thumb caressed the pulse in her wrist, which was jumping crazily. She pulled her hand free and clutched it against the ache in her chest.

His fingertip caught her chin and tipped it up. "I'm only thirty-two, Amy. So are you. I'd say that gives us plenty of time for a second try. Just say the word."

It took all the strength Amy had to turn away from him. "The word is no."

She heard him swear, low and viciously, before he manhandled the truck into gear and hit the accelerator. The horses whinnied at the sudden lurch of the trailer, and Luke swore again and eased his foot off the gas. He kept his eyes straight ahead as the truck and trailer headed down the dirt road at a more reasonable pace.

Amy watched Luke from the corner of her eye and felt a surge of longing and regret. She could ride across the Texas plains all day at a gallop, but Amy knew, deep in her heart, that she'd turned out every bit as afraid to reach out and grab for life as her agoraphobic mother.