diamonds across the sky. The breeze was no more than a whisper.
Will studied her moonlit profile—the chiseled nose, the soft, full lips, the stubborn chin, and the wisps of golden hair framing her face. There was nobody like Tori. He ached to make her his again.
Tonight could be his best chance to tell her what was on his mind. But he’d never been much good with romantic talk. Maybe that had been part of the problem when they were married. He’d been too tough, too macho, to say the words a woman needed to hear.
Could he say them now?
She stirred, untangling her legs. “I suppose I should be going,” she said.
“You don’t have to go,” he said. “You could stay here tonight. We could even do some more celebrating.”
“Will—”
As soon as she spoke his name, he knew he’d said the wrong thing. “Sorry,” he muttered. “Did I assume too much?”
She shook her head. “Last night we needed each other. But that doesn’t mean it’s going to happen again.”
Her words stung Will like a slap in the face, but he stuck to his guns. “You know it was good for both of us. What’s wrong, Tori? Is Middleton still in the picture?”
“No, that’s over. There’s nobody else. It’s just that . . . the woman you were married to doesn’t exist anymore. This woman won’t answer to any man’s beck and call, even yours.”
“So I’m supposed to wait around like a hungry dog until you crook your little finger? Damn it, Tori, I want you! I want my family back!”
She stood, clutching the afghan around her. “We’ve been a family of sorts all along, haven’t we? Has that been so bad?”
“It’s been tolerable—better than nothing. But sleeping alone and only seeing my daughter when school’s out isn’t my idea of being a family.”
“Will.” Her voice was flat with strain. “Half the single women in the county would jump at the chance to be your wife. You could get married again, even have more children.”
“Damn it, if that was what I wanted, I’d have remarried a long time ago!” Frustrated, he turned away from her and glared across the moon-shadowed yard. “Never mind. This is going nowhere. If you need to go home, just go.”
“Fine. As soon as I get my things.” She crossed the porch, then paused at the front door. “I’ll be here on Sunday to get Erin. She misses her friends. She wants to go back to school in town.”
The news jolted him. “Are you sure that’s safe?”
“It’s what she wants. I already promised her.”
“I wish you’d talked it over with me before you promised.”
“The trial’s over,” Tori said. “You were judged innocent. We need to move on. Even Erin needs to move on—with her school, with her friends. She needs to put this ordeal behind her and get back to normal.”
“But does it have to be so soon?”
There was no reply. Tori had gone inside.
* * *
Minutes later, Tori swung her station wagon away from the house. Tires spat gravel as she headed down the lane toward the main road. Will had been gone when she’d come back outside with her shoes, jacket, and purse. There’d been no chance to make things right, or even give him a conciliatory smile. He’d opened up to her, and she had wounded him.
Will was a proud man. The next time she saw him, his behavior toward her would be that of a polite, cold stranger.
Welling tears blurred the road in her headlights. Why couldn’t she have said yes to Will? It would have made him happy. Erin would have been overjoyed, and the whole ranch family would have celebrated her return.
But she knew why. The sad, hard truth was that she was scared. Will was the love of her life. There would never be another man like him. But being his wife had crushed her spirit in a way she would never tolerate again. Over the past eight years, they’d become different people—she was stronger; Will, perhaps less like his father. But some things never changed. Going back to him would be like picking up where they’d left off, with all the old hurts coming to the surface.
They could end up hating each other.
Out of the darkness a buck deer flashed into the road, leaping high in her headlights. Tori slammed the brake. The wagon screeched to a stop, missing the animal by the barest inch as it bounded away. Pulse hammering, she slumped over the wheel. Another split second and