He’d always liked this time of morning, just after dawn, when the world was full of peace. He could sit here and watch the new colt take instruction from his mama for hours. It was as it should be, the parent actually parenting the child.

He’d come a long way since those days growing up in the shack on the other side of town, his mama gone and the foul smell of whiskey tainting the room. His life was good now. He worked hard, used the smarts God gave him and made enough money for five lifetimes.

He should be satisfied with that and he would be, but that break-in last night rankled his good nature. He’d had to rein in his fury for Macy’s sake.

She’d been scared out of her wits, and he couldn’t blame her. He’d invited her here, promised to give her solitude and peace, but instead she’d been tormented by an intruder.

“Hey, McCay. Want some coffee?”

Carter smiled at the sound of her sassy voice and turned to see Macy coming out of the house with two steaming mugs in hand. Coal-black curls framed her face and fell in wild disarray down her back. Her eyes, free of makeup, looked brilliantly clear in the light. She wore a red-and-blue plaid robe and leather boots. He had to smile at that. The Hollywood starlet looked pretty at dawn and too much as if she fit in around here.

His heart did a little flip watching her glide toward him, and he passed it off as sexual contentment. Last night, they’d made love twice before he’d driven her back to the house. As they approached her room, she’d paused by her door, lifting hesitant eyes his way as if unsure of his intentions. Carter had gripped her hand tighter and led her to his room. She’d gone willingly, and she’d slept through the night curled next to him. He’d wanted her to feel safe, but it didn’t end there. She’d gotten under his skin, and he wanted her in his bed for the remainder of her stay at Wild River. “Sure, wouldn’t refuse coffee from a gorgeous woman.”

A smile spread over her face as she sidled up next to him and carefully handed him a cup. “You’re up early.”

“I was about ready to come join you in bed.”

She snapped her head up, her eyes wide, and then whispered in a hushed tone, “Should I go back inside?”

The sexy morning lilt of her voice did things to him.

“I wouldn’t want to disappoint you,” she added.

“Doubt you could do that.” Carter slid his arm around her waist and pulled her close. She went willingly, coffee cup balanced in one hand. He nuzzled her neck, roving his lips over her throat and tasting her sweet skin once again. He glanced around the yard. His ranch hands hadn’t begun working yet. With no one in sight, he brought his mouth to hers and took her in a long, lingering kiss.

She made a little throaty sound, a sexy moan reminding him of the hot night they’d spent making love at the inn, and Carter cursed under his breath. He wanted her again.

Last night, when she’d been in danger, his protective instincts took hold. He’d been more concerned about Macy than catching the intruder. Afterward, he couldn’t seem to let her go. He’d caved in to his lust. Macy had intrigued him from the moment he’d laid eyes on her on that New York street, and last night was the culmination of temptation and raw desire.

The mare whinnied and they both turned their attention to the horses. Carter sipped coffee. “Watch the colt. He’s something.” Midnight parading around the arena, strutting, sniffing and mimicking his mother, made for great entertainment.

“He’s wonderful,” she said, and it touched Carter how sincerely awed she was witnessing something Carter could easily take for granted.

“You sleep okay?” he asked.

She nodded. “Thanks to you. I’m not a wimp usually, but I was pretty scared last night.”

Carter’s gut tightened and he swore silently. “I’ll see to it that never happens again.”

“How?” she asked.

Carter kept his focus on the horses. This wasn’t an easy thing to admit, and it took him a few seconds to force the words out. “I’m ninety-nine percent sure I know who broke into the inn last night. It was my father.”

“Your father? Oh, Carter. No.”

He ground his teeth. “I’m afraid so. He’s got this fool notion that he should be overseeing the inn. Even though I banished him, after what happened the last time. He was probably all boozed up. I’m so damn mad that he scared you, I could spit.”

Macy’s expression softened. Sympathy touched her eyes. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be. It’s expected. He’s never going to change.”

“Don’t say that. Don’t give up on him.”

“I’m afraid it’s too late for that. Not only is he checked off my list, after how he scared you last night, he’s disappeared from it. Poof. Just like that, he’s gone. I’m done with him.”

Macy’s lips formed a tight pout. “It’s heartbreaking to hear you say that. Your father needs your help.”

“You want me to help him?” He began shaking his head. “No way.”

His brain wouldn’t go there. Not after what his father had put him through. Not after he’d sent his mother to an early grave and almost killed Rocky in that fire. Fathers were supposed to raise their children, not the other way around. “He doesn’t deserve it, Macy.”

Macy set her coffee cup down on a post, making sure it didn’t teeter, before she turned to him, her voice firm. “Everyone deserves another chance.”

“He’s used up his quota of chances.” Carter gulped coffee too fast. It burned his throat on the way down. “Damn it.”

“Carter,” Macy pressed, “you can’t just give up on him.”

“I can. I have.” He didn’t want to have this conversation right now. “But you should know, it’s not for lack of trying. I’ve spent years trying to clean that man up. It’s impossible.”

Macy looked toward the corral. She pretended to watch the horses, but he could see her mind was a million miles away. Then softly, as if she were speaking on a breeze, she said, “Maybe if someone took my father by the scruff of his collar and shook some sense into him, he’d be alive today.”

Carter glanced at her profile, the stubborn slant of her delicate chin. Macy still ached from her father’s death. Maybe she was feeling guilty for not intervening with him. Or maybe she’d just wanted to make a point. But her situation was different. She’d been a young girl when her father died. Carter had put up with his father’s antics for his entire life. People got hurt and lives were damaged.

“You don’t know the facts, Macy. And I’m not about to spill my guts to ease your guilt. Just drop it.”

She whipped around to face him, a spark of defiance in her eyes. “I’m not trying to ease my guilt. I have no guilt. Just regret. And you’re being bullheaded!”

Carter kept his gaze trained on her. He wasn’t going to let her get involved in this. His patience was shot to hell. He raised his voice. “I’m telling you how it’s going to be. It’s none of your business.”

“So, you’re saying butt out?”

“Bingo, you win the prize.” He winced at his harsh tone, but he wouldn’t back down.

She stared at him for the longest time, then grabbed the mug from his hand, lifted hers from the post and then twirled around. Marching toward the house, she held her head high and mighty as if she was right and he was the fool who couldn’t see it.

Damn it. They’d just had their first argument, and it was about his father. If that didn’t take the cake, he didn’t know what did.

It sure wasn’t the way Carter wanted to start the morning.


* * *

Bill Fargo was a wise old goat, clean-cut and stately and just the type of man Carter would have liked to have for a father. It still plagued him why the man wanted to work at Wild River Ranch for a modest wage, when it was obvious he could be holding down a more lucrative job. But Carter wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. Whatever the reasons, he was glad to have Bill.

“I came in early to explain what happened last night,” Fargo said after Carter let him into his office.

“We spoke on the phone last night. That’s enough for me.” Carter leaned against the edge of his desk, offering Fargo a seat, but the old guy decided to stand.

Fargo rubbed the back of his neck. “I appreciate that, but I take pride in my work and I’d feel better you hearing it from me in person.”

“Okay.” It was a fair plea.

Fargo’s brows gathered as he recalled the incident. “I’d just checked on Macy about ten minutes before it started storming. I had driven clear across the other end of the property when the rain came down hard. Soon as it hit, I turned the truck around to get her and bring her back to the main house.”

“Did you see the intruder trying to break in?”

“No. When I got there, I noticed the broken window first, and that’s when you drove up. I think we spotted him at the same time. He took off running into the brush. You told me to go after him while you checked on Macy. I lost sight of him in the darkness, and by the time I got to the truck he was gone. I searched for an hour but couldn’t find him. I’d first thought it might be a youngster thinking the place was abandoned, wanting to get in out of the rain. But what I saw changed my mind. It wasn’t a boy but a man, and he wasn’t so much fast as he was cagey. He could have been close to my age. You said you thought you knew who it was.”

Carter tensed. Every time he thought about his old man, his nerves jangled. He’d never make Father of the Year, but was staying on the right side of the law too much to ask? “Yeah, unfortunately I do. It was my father, Riley McCay. It’s an old song I won’t sing again, but he won’t be bothering Macy or coming onto the property again. I paid him a little visit today. Not that his word is any good, but my old man has managed to stay out of jail all these years. He knows that’ll change if he’s spotted on my property again. Next time, he’ll be hauled in by the law.”