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years between the two of them, but Dee had been there for everything when their mother died and their father drew away from them.
    In Trace’s immaturity, she had seen only that Dee had what Trace didn’t—beauty, talent, intelligence… But one day, long after she’d established herself with Wildgames in Europe, it had hit Trace that she did have all that Dee did, she had just needed to recognize her own self-worth. Dee had tried to tell her that time after time, but Trace had let envy— jealousy —cloud their relationship.
    Eventually, when Trace had moved to England, she’d sent Dee a letter, chatty and friendly, trying to reestablish their relationship. Dee had been warm and receptive, just like she’d always been.
    That had been a couple of years ago, and now, Trace had come home. To make amends. To say the things she should have said long ago.
    And to finally bury the old, insecure part of herself she should have laid to rest with her troubled childhood.
    Countless memories unraveled in Trace’s mind as the Mustang’s wheels rattled over the cattle guard. She slowed the car down as she drove toward the house.
    Toward her home.
    She’d spent her entire life at the Flying M, up until her two years at the university and then the last four years in Europe. She’d practiced calf-roping and barrel racing in those corrals to the northeast of the ranch house. Despite darkness shrouding the ranch she could easily make out the split rail fencing and the water trough made from a fifty-gallon steel drum.
    And over there, in that huge old barn, was where they kept Dancer, Trace’s mare. Farther out back she could even see the bunkhouse where most of the ranch hands lived, and she smiled. When she was growing up on the ranch, she’d certainly had her fair share of crushes on hot cowboys.
    At the thought of cowboys, one particularly tall and good-looking one came immediately to mind. Amazing—she’d finally been able to forget Jess Lawless for all of what, three minutes?
    As she brought the Mustang to a halt in front of the house and switched off the ignition, the knot in her belly rose into her chest, making even breathing difficult. Why was she so anxious about getting together with her sister after all this time? Maybe it was the combination of seeing Dee, and what had happened earlier with Jess.
    After she took a couple of deep breaths, Trace climbed out of the car and slammed the door behind her. A dog barked from inside the house and the tawny glow of lights spilled through the kitchen’s curtains. She paused for a moment to look up at the now almost clear star-spattered sky. Wow. She’d missed the sight of all those stars. It was so dark out here in the middle of nowhere that stars were far more plentiful and brilliant, and the Milky Way was like white cotton candy spun across the universe.
    Dirt and rocks crunched under her shoes as she made herself walk toward the house. Rain-fresh desert air filled her senses, along with the familiar ranch smells of cattle and horses. The weeping willows and oaks had sure grown in the past four years.
    Wooden stairs squeaked as she jogged up them to the plant-crowded porch, thick enough that it looked like a small jungle.
    A porch light flicked on as Trace reached the front door, and she blinked away the sudden brightness. The rattle of the doorknob caused the knots in her belly and chest to double. Then triple.
    The door swung open, but Trace couldn’t make out the shadowed figure in the entrance, until the person stepped onto the porch.
    Dee. She hadn’t changed much in four years—if anything she was more beautiful than ever. Her auburn hair flowed around her shoulders, her skin as flawless and perfect as it had always been.
    Only she seemed happy . Happier than Trace remembered ever seeing her.
    “Yes?” Dee cocked her head, a puzzled smile on her pretty face. “Can I—” Her jaw dropped and her eyes widened. “Trace?”
    Trace gave her sister a little smile.