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Saturday, and all the men had already gone into town. Probably all lined up for a beer already, Harry figured. Just like last night, when he’d first seen Melissa.
    That scene had replayed in his head a few times—how beautiful she’d looked sitting there, sipping her beer. He wondered how different things would have turned out if he’d taken her up on her request for a dance.
    He’d never know.
    Once they reached the pasture by the county road, there was no time for thinking. There was a herd to gather.
    Snow had begun to fall and the temperature was dropping sharply. John kept looking up at the sky, but Harry didn’t bother. Mike had already alerted them to the forecast, and it was not good. They were in for a substantial snowfall, on top of what was already on the ground.
    Luckily, the herd was mostly Herefords. Their red coats showed up better in the swirling snow.
    They rounded up the large herd, each working hardat the job. Even Melissa. She rode with skill and knew her way around the herd, Harry would give her that. As much as it pained him to admit it, she held her own.
    By the time they dragged themselves back to the barn, it was after eight o’clock and the three of them were exhausted. The buffeting of the wind was enough to wear anyone out.
    Melissa hopped down off of her mare. “If you’ll unsaddle Maybelle and give her some oats,” she told he men, “I’ll get up to the house and start supper for us.”
    Harry could only stare at her. The words came out of his mouth before he could censor them. “You ride herd and cook, too? Man, you’re a rancher’s dream!”
    As she strode by him, she tipped her nose in the air. “I’m not so sure that a rancher would be my dream, though.”

Chapter Four
    “I’m not sure my sister’s dreams are like those of other women in Rawhide.”
    John’s words reached Harry through his haze. He’d been too intent watching Melissa sashay up to the house to pay his friend any mind. Now he turned to John.
    “They wouldn’t be, though, would they? I mean, she’s been living in Paris for six years.” He grinned. “Heck, she’s probably the only person in Rawhide who’s ever been.”
    “Not so,” John said unsaddling Maybelle. “Mom and Dad went to see her awhile back.”
    “Did they like it?”
    “Mom enjoyed it, but she said she was glad to get back home. Dad didn’t have anything good to say about it. He’s never been happy that Melissa is living there.”
    “Yeah, I can imagine. Melissa says he’s trying to marry her off to someone here in Rawhide so she’ll stay here.” Harry didn’t look at his friend. He just kept taking care of the horse he’d borrowed.
    “I wonder who he’s got in mind,” John said. When Harry said nothing, John stopped what he was doing and looked at him. “Harry? Do you know who Dad’s thinking of?”
    “I don’t know what your dad is thinking, but Melissa said it’s me.”
    “Really?” John asked eagerly. “That’d be great, Harry! Hey, snap her up at once!”
    “That’s not how it works, John. Melissa has to be interested. More than interested, she has to want to marry and stay here rather than go back to France. And I don’t see that happening. Do you?”
    John stood there, looking at him. Finally, he shook his head. “No, I don’t see that happening.”
    “Then you should encourage your dad not to press her on that front. If she married because of him, the marriage wouldn’t last. You know how that goes.”
    “You sound like a voice of experience. You’ve seen a marriage like that?”
    Harry hefted off the saddle and put it in the tack room. “Yeah, my parents’. When they finally divorced it was a relief for all of us.”
    “I’m sorry, Harry. I didn’t know.”
    “It’s not something you go around bragging about. But I think both my parents are happier now. Anyway, that’s why I’m not interested in Melissa. She’s beautiful and obviously talented, but I don’t want an unhappy