The unusual connection she'd felt to this man earlier stirred within her, a bond so deep it shook her to the core of her being. A warm ripple of excitement teased her body. What is happening to me? she wondered. Why do I feel this way?

"Hey, you okay?"

Snapped from her daze by his concern, she pushed the disturbing thoughts aside for another time. "Um, yes. I should have paid more attention to where I was going." Then, ensnared by his gaze, she said the silliest thing. "Your eyes remind me of fresh moss dusted with gold."

"Like the moss that grows on the rocks in the stream?" His palm slowly slid from her hip to the indentation of her waist beneath the jacket she wore.

She managed a nod, her throat too dry to speak.

"How flattering." His voice was low and husky and full of a playful charm Caitlan suspected he didn't use very often. He stared at her as if seeing someone else, and the hard edge of his jaw softened. "And your eyes remind me of…" He caught what he'd been about to say and gave his head a slight shake, as if dislodging the thoughts in his mind.

Sorrow flickered in his eyes and, strangely, Caitlan felt his sadness as if it were her own. She didn't understand its source, and as she reached out to touch his face and offer what comfort she could, he saw her intent. Abruptly, he let her go and stepped away. Wrapping her arms around her stomach, she tried to sort through the upheaval of rampant emotions in her. But how did she begin to understand something so powerful and foreign in her experience as a guardian angel?

J.T. bent down and picked up the knapsack, still unable to believe he'd almost told Caitlan her eyes reminded him of lush violets. How incredibly stupid and sappy. Damn. He'd wanted her to touch him in the worst way, but he knew if she did, he'd go up in smoke and take her with him.

Scowling at everything in general, he grasped her hand in a businesslike manner and practically dragged her behind him. "Let's get the hell out of here," he muttered, forging a path up over the final crest of the ravine. A couple of times her boots slid from under her, but he had a firm enough grip on her to keep her on her feet. Once they were on flat land he let go of her hand.

Another pasture stretched out ahead, and beyond that was the main ranch road. A sweet, clean breeze curled around them.

"Oh, J.T.," Caitlan breathed, gesturing to the group of elk grazing near the tree line. "This is so beautiful."

Seeing the wild beauty of his land through someone else's eyes gave J.T. a new appreciation for it. "I guess I see them so often, I take everything for granted."

"I could watch them for hours," she said in a soft voice. The animals maintained a guarded wariness and wouldn't need much provocation to bolt.

"We don't have hours," he reminded her, and started forward. Several of the elk backed away; others sprinted into the grove of trees lining the far side of the pasture. When she caught up to him he said, "You never did say where you were from or what you do."

Caitlan looked surprised at the switch in conversation. "Chicago. I'm an illustrator for a children's magazine."

"You're a long way from home, city girl."

"Yes." One of those secret smiles brushed her lips. "But I get a hankering for the country and horses every once in a while."

And she'd no doubt get bored after a week or two, he thought, knowing from experience that city women didn't adapt well to life in the country. "Did you grow up in the country and around horses?"

"My uncle owned a ranch in Montana and I spent my summers there."

"So what brings you to such a rural place as an Idaho dude ranch?"

She shrugged and scuffed her boots over the grass. "A vacation. I just wanted to get away for a while."

"Are you staying at Parson's by yourself, or is there someone waiting and worrying about you?" And why did he even care? His only concern should be getting her safely back to Parson's, regardless of who might be waiting for her there.

She shook her head, and the sun painted golden highlights in her hair. "No, I came by myself."

"Well, you can call Parson's as soon as we get back to the main house and let them know you're okay."

She gave him her dimpled grin, and this time J.T. only felt a minimal shock at seeing it. "Look!" she exclaimed, pointing. "Someone's coming."

J.T. glanced up. Sure enough, three figures appeared on the horizon: two men on horses and a horse with no rider. J.T. whistled loud and shrill, garnering their attention. The riders spurred the horses into a gallop. Minutes later, J.T. recognized his ranch foreman, Frank, and his brother-in-law Kirk. J.T.'s faithful chestnut, Quinn, tagged behind on a lead rope.

Kirk reined to a stop a few feet away, a sly grin on his handsome face. "Sorry, boss," he said, thumbing back his Stetson on his head, his light blue eyes appraising Caitlan. "We didn't consider you might not want to be found, or realize you'd have company with you."

Frank, chuckling at his partner's comment, halted his horse and Quinn beside Kirk. He grinned good-naturedly, adding more wrinkles to his well-weathered face. "And here we were, worrying you'd got stranded out in the open and froze to death last night," he said, his voice a raspy drawl.

J.T. watched a blush rise on Caitlan's cheeks from the men's innuendos. A rush of protectiveness gripped him. Assuring himself that the feeling was nothing more than paternal instinct kicking in, he pinned both men with a shrewd look. "Can it, guys. This is Caitlan Daniels and, quite frankly, she saved my life."

Frank and Kirk exchanged incredulous glances.

"Say again?" Kirk asked. "I could have sworn you said she saved your life."

Quinn stepped forward, seeking his owner's familiar hand. J.T. obliged the horse, stroking his palm down the side of Quinn's neck. "You heard me correctly," J.T. said, irritated for a reason he couldn't pinpoint. "I had an accident in the west pasture." He met Caitlan's gaze, telling her without words to go along with his story and not to dare refute him. "A tree was blocking the creek. After I pulled it out and untied the rope I slipped and fell and must've hit my head on a rock. I was out cold, and when I woke up I was in the line shack."

Frank leaned into his saddle, eyeing Caitlan curiously. "And where does this pretty lady fit into all this?"

J.T. summarized the story Caitlan had relayed to him, about her being a guest at Parson's Dude Ranch and stumbling upon his body by accident. By his men's dubious expressions, J.T. knew they were having a little trouble digesting the tale, just as he had. Yet he asked himself again, what other explanation could there be?

"By the way, Caitlan," J.T. began, nodding to Frank, "this ancient cowpoke is my foreman Frank, and Kirk here is my sister's husband and one of my best hands."

"Nice to meet you," she replied, looking from one man to the other.

"Same here, Ms. Daniels," Frank said politely.

Kirk tipped his Stetson at her, a broad smile on his lips. "Any friend of J.T.'s is a friend of ours. Welcome to the Circle R."

J.T. tied the knapsack on the saddle, annoyed with the way both men, married men at that, were so totally captivated by Caitlan's smile. "So, what the hell took you so long to find me?"

Kirk spared him a glance. "Randal said you'd been working on the north side of the ranch and insisted we search for you there. When nothing turned up Frank and I decided to give this end a try."

"I was working on the north side of the ranch in the morning, until I found the blockage in the creek and followed it west."

"Well, no matter," Frank cut in. "At least we found you. Quinn made it back to the corral late last night and was acting spooked."

"Probably from the storm," J.T. said, even though he knew it would take more than a little thunder and rain to terrify Quinn. The horse had never deserted him before in bad weather.

"Yeah," Kirk agreed. "Let's get moving so we can tell the other guys the search is off."

J.T. nodded, checking the saddle and the girth before he helped Caitlan mount Quinn. "As soon as we get back to the main house I'll be driving Caitlan back to Parson's."

Kirk's horse danced impatiently, chomping at the bit to go. "Uh, that's not going to be possible," he said uneasily.

A sense of foreboding settled on J.T. "Excuse me?"

Kirk took an audible breath, clearly uncomfortable being the one to impart bad news. "She won't be going back to Parson's anytime soon-at least another week or two. The bridge over the American River was heavily damaged in the storm. It isn't safe for crossing."

Chapter Three

"What the hell do you mean, the bridge was damaged in the storm?" J.T. bellowed, unable to believe this newest turn of events. Quinn, startled by his master's sudden rage, flattened back his ears and shied away. "That's impossible," he said in a softer tone, soothing the horse with a gentle caress. "That bridge is built like a fortress!"

"Was," Kirk corrected, then shrugged. "It's one of those freak things that happens, I guess. From what we hear, even Hugh Parson and the county engineers can't figure it out. With ordering all the materials and getting a crew out this way, they're figuring a couple of weeks to reconstruct it."

J.T. glanced at Caitlan, scowling at her expression. She was actually smiling! Didn't she understand the implications of what was being said? Two weeks, echoed through his mind, taunting him with the realization that she'd be underfoot on his ranch. Fourteen days of seeing her and trying to curb this overwhelming attraction to her. Hell.

"You realize, don't you," he began succinctly, impaling her with a steady gaze, "that you won't be going back to Parson's Dude Ranch anytime soon."