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decide right now, do you?”
    Her words were so strangled with tension that Sam glanced sharply at her.
    â€œDo you?” she demanded, feeling brittle.
    â€œNo.” They’d reached the ranch house, and now he parked the truck and turned on the seat, meeting Roni’s anxious gaze across the top of Jessie’s car seat. “But I’m going to think on it hard.”
    Roni slumped with relief, then hid her reaction by releasing Jessie from her harness. The exhausted baby was limp, her cherub’s mouth parted in the soft breaths of slumber and she made scarcely a murmur as Roni lifted her free. Sam had come around to the passenger side by this time and helped Roni climb out. His hand was warm on her upper arm, holding her still as he looked down into her face.
    â€œI’m depending on you to help me figure this out, Curly. No matter that I’m already crazy about the kid, I’ve got to do what’s best for her in the long run.”
    Roni caught a tremulous breath. “I know, Sam.”
    He gave her arm a brief squeeze that was part thanks, part encouragement, and they went inside. Roni hadn’t made it halfway down the hall when the phone rang. The baby on her shoulder jumped, then begin to mewl fretfully. Sam cursed and hurried to the kitchen, catching the receiver up before the next ring. Gratefully, Roni sought out the platform rocker in his bedroom. Rocking and singing softly as daylight fled and the room grew shadowy, she was much relieved when Jessie gave a tired sigh and settled back down.
    After a while, Roni heard Sam hang up, and when he appeared in the doorway a moment later, a peculiar expression etched his rugged features. “The Lord works in mysterious ways.”
    She gave him a curious look. “What? Who was that?”
    â€œMaybe the answer.”
    Roni’s voice was soft, to avoid waking the child she cradled in her arms, but her tone was wry. “Spit it out, Sam. You know your laconic cowboy persona drives me bats.”
    â€œAbout Jessie.” He crossed to where Roni sat and swept callused fingers over the tiny girl’s russet curls. “That was Mrs. Veatch. She says the Newtons have reconsidered. They’re missing Jessie like crazy and want to begin adoption proceedings.”
    â€œNo.” Roni’s heart lurched, and her arms tightened involuntarily around the child.
    â€œCurly, we’ve got to be practical about this.”
    â€œCold-blooded, you mean?” Roni’s expression was fierce. “I won’t believe it of you, Sam. Tell me you don’t care about Jessie. I dare you.”
    â€œI’ll be damned if I let my emotions cloud what’s best for her,” he said.
    â€œSee? You can’t deny it, because you already love her as though she was your own flesh and blood.” Gazing down into the sleeping child’s rosebud face, Roni felt a wave of emotion pulling her under, forcing her to admit the truth. She gave a small, breathless cry of surrender. “And so do I.”
    Sam’s expression was suddenly full of worry and concern. He squatted down on his heels beside the rocker so that their eyes were on the same level. “Curly...”
    â€œI want this child. You can’t give her away, Sam. I won’t let you.”
    He groaned. “But we’ve got to think about what’s right for Jessie.”
    â€œHow about what’s right for you? For me?” Roni demanded.
    Sam threw up his hands. “So what do you want me to do?”
    Cheeks pale, Roni hesitated, then met his gaze. “The right thing. Marry me, Sam.”

Three
    W hen Sam was seventeen, he’d been kicked in the head by a half-broken saddle bronc Kenny had dared him to ride. Roni’s words produced the same stunning sensation, the impression of falling endlessly until you hit the ground—hard.
    â€œWhat did you say?” The huskiness of his own voice startled him.
    Rosy color flooded