Cindy Kirk - Your Ranch Or Mine?

Mitch dragged the toe of his boot in the sand and when his swing came to a complete halt, he stood. “But you didn’t know what made me tick and I certainly never knew what drove you.”

“All these years we’ve been left to wonder what might have been,” she mused as her swing slowed to a stop. “Wondering if great sex would have led to a great relationship if given the chance.”

He grabbed her hand and tugged her to her feet. “That’s why we should date. By the time it ends there won’t be any more unanswered questions.”

“How long do you think it will take for us to get sick of each other?”

“I don’t know,” he said, unable to pull his gaze from her lips. “I guess that’s what we’re going to find out.”

Dear Reader,

Do you ever wonder what it would be like if you ran into an old boyfriend? For me the encounter would probably happen on a day that I looked my worst. One of those days when I decide to just pop over to the grocery store for some milk. One of those days when I tell myself there’s no need to dress up. No need to fool with makeup or hair. After all, who am I going to see at such an oddball time? I’ll tell you who I’ll see—people I haven’t seen in years. People who look their best making me look even worse. People who will forever have that horrible image of me in their mind’s eye.

Life doesn’t give too many do-overs. That’s what I like about Your Ranch or Mine. Mitch and Anna are given the opportunity to see if love they felt for each other all those years earlier is still there. And despite their fears, they put their hearts on the line.

Here’s hoping you get that elusive second chance in your own life!

Cindy Kirk

www.millsandboon.co.uk

has loved to read for as long as she can remember. In first grade she received an award for reading one hundred books. Growing up, summers were her favorite time of the year. Nothing beat going to the library, then coming home and curling up in front of the window air-conditioning unit with a good book. Often the novels she read would spur ideas and she’d make up her own story (always with a happy ending). When she’d go to bed at night, instead of counting sheep, she’d make up more stories in her head. Since first selling to Harlequin in 1999, Cindy has been forced to juggle her love of reading with her passion for creating stories of her own…but she doesn’t mind. Writing for the Special Edition series is a dream come true. She only hopes you have as much fun reading her books as she has writing them!

Cindy invites you to visit her Web site at www.cindykirk.com.

To my wonderful friend, Susan Powers-Alexander.

We may not be related by blood, but in my heart

I’m proud to call you my sister.

Thank you for all the support and caring.

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Epilogue

Thirty-year-old Anna Anderssen never considered herself a coward. Still, she backed out of the café in Sweet River, Montana, as fast as her legs could carry her.

Once outside she pressed her spine against the brick wall, taking in huge gulps of air. Her heart slammed against her ribs and her insides trembled.

Mitchell Donavan. Her first lover. The man she thought she’d never see again…had come home.

She’d been lucky. Although his back had been to her, at any moment he could have turned around. If he had, their eyes would have locked. Anna knew what would have happened then. The surprise in his vivid blue depths would have been replaced by anger. Perhaps even hatred. After all, what kind of woman—

Stop, she told herself, as she had so many times over the past years, you’re not that girl anymore. But was that true? Could a person really change their character? A frisson of doubt washed over her and it suddenly became hard to breathe. Anna closed her eyes and a mantra—or was it a prayer?—found its way to her lips. “Oh, God. Please. Oh, God—”

“Anna?”

Her lids flew open and Anna blinked against the bright sun. When the person who stood before her came into focus, she nearly groaned aloud. Having a meltdown on Main Street was bad enough. But having one in front of Loretta Barbee, the pastor’s wife, was disastrous.

“Are you all right, dear?” Clearly distressed, the woman’s hands fluttered in the air as she spoke. The short, quick movements reminded Anna of the wrens that frequented her backyard bird feeder. “You’re white as a sheet. Tell me what’s wrong. I’m sure I can help.”

Help? Anna swallowed a nervous giggle. There was no cure for what ailed her. And, as far as what was wrong, what could she say? That she’d seen Mitch Donavan talking to her brother and had run out of the café faster than a white-tailed jackrabbit?

Yeah, right. Saying that to this concerned soul would be the height of foolishness. Although Mrs. Barbee was a genuinely nice person, she was also one of Sweet River’s biggest gossips.

Since a direct answer was clearly out, Anna was forced to try a different tactic. She fanned her face with exaggerated movements of one hand. “I’m fine. Just overheated.”

“Perhaps I should get Seth.” Mrs. Barbee’s gaze darted to the front door of the café as if expecting Anna’s brother to instantly appear. “He could take you home.”

“No.” The word burst like a bullet from Anna’s lips.

Mrs. Barbee took a step back and brought a hand to her chest as if she’d felt the impact. But instead of pain, her eyes gleamed with curiosity.

The screen door of The Coffee Pot swung open and Anna jumped. Two cowboys she recognized as acquaintances of Seth’s strode out of the café. When they shot a curious glance her way, Anna realized that unless she wanted her reunion with Mitch to occur under Mrs. Barbee’s watchful eyes, it was time to get moving. She looped her arm through Mrs. Barbee’s and propelled the woman around the corner.

“I’m so happy I ran into you,” Anna chattered, before the minister’s wife had a chance to speak. “I promised Stacie I’d ask Pastor Barbee if he could mention something in his community announcements this Sunday about the Young Professionals group having their first meeting Tuesday night.”

Anna almost ran out of breath before she got it all out. But the string of nonstop words had the desired effect. The suspicious glitter in Mrs. Barbee’s eyes dimmed.

“Lloyd should be at the church.” A thoughtful look crossed the matron’s finely lined face. “I’m headed there now. Would you like to come with me and ask him yourself?”

“What a good suggestion.” Even as she spoke, Anna started down the sidewalk. The way she saw it, each step toward the church was one more step away from the café. “I stopped by The Coffee Pot this morning hoping business would be slow so Stacie and I could have a cup of coffee. But when I saw all the customers, I knew she was too busy to talk.”

“Once your roommate decided to settle here, she certainly embraced our little community.” Mrs. Barbee slanted a sideways glance at Anna. “Buying the café. Resurrecting the Young Professionals group.”

“Stacie likes to keep busy.” Anna kept her response simple, knowing whatever she said would be analyzed and repeated.