Most nights Luke might have been able to smile and send Carla on her way feeling no more than a little embarrassed for her sweet declaration. But it hadn’t been most other nights. It had been one of the nights when his elemental hunger for Cash’s little sister had driven Luke to the temporary relief of straight Scotch. Instead of turning away from her, he had come to his feet, grabbed her and kissed her with every bit of the wild hunger in him. When she had tried to slow him down, to talk to him, he had lashed out.

What did you think a man wanted from a woman who loves him, school girl? And there’s the problem, isn’t it? You’re a girl mouthing woman’s words and I’m a man on fire. Run, school girl Run like hell and don’t come back.

Carla had taken Luke at his word. She had run and she hadn’t come back. And he had locked himself up in the barn with his tools, transforming his yearnings into gleaming shapes of wood – chair and dresser, headboard and footboard, beautiful furnishings for the dream that could not come true.

"Ah, well, live and learn," Carla said.

"What have you learned, sunshine?" Luke asked.

He saw the ripple of emotion in her clear eyes as he called her by the old nickname. But the emotion passed, and she was again watching him with the combination of distance and coolness that she had used on him whenever she couldn’t avoid him.

"I’ve learned that being adventurous is another name for being a fool." she said.

Luke saw the tiny flinch she couldn’t conceal and knew that he had hurt her. He hadn’t really intended that. He had just wanted to see something besides aloofness and distance in her beautiful eyes.

"You’ve got no corner on being a fool," Luke said calmly. "Seems like all I do lately is chase stubborn cows and eat bad food." He yawned and stretched his arms over his head, flattening his palms on the ceiling in order to fully stretch his body.

"Get a cook," Carla said, walking past Luke to the kitchen.

As he lowered his arms, his fingertips accidentally brushed over her arm and her glossy, shoulder-length hair. The short-sleeved blouse she wore couldn’t conceal the sudden ripple of goose bumps, helpless response to his touch.

"I’ve had six cooks in the past twenty months," Luke said. "Not a one of them could hold a candle to you. I’ve missed all those dinners when you and Cash and I would sit and talk about everything and nothing, and then Cash and I would fight over who got the biggest piece of whatever pie you’d made that day. Those were good times, sunshine."

Carla’s hands gripped the pizza box too tightly. She slapped the box onto the counter and began transferring slices to a baking sheet.

"Bet you don’t miss doing the dishes afterward."she said.

"The conversation was worth it," Luke said simply.

"Oh, no you don’t," Cash said.

"I don’t what?" Luke asked.

"You don’t come sniffing around looking to make Carla your cook for the summer, leaving me with a can opener for company."

Luke smiled slowly. "Hell of an idea, Cash. Sunshine, would you – "

"Nope," Carla said quickly, interrupting.

"Why not?"

Ignoring him, Carla bent over the open stove and positioned the limp pizza as though it were a gear in a Swiss watch.

"Why not?" Luke pressed.

"Cash would starve, that’s why," she muttered.

"Slander! I can cook as well as the next man," Cash said.

"Sure," she retorted, "as long as the next man is Luke MacKenzie."

Before either man could speak, Carla spotted the brown-and-white mess at the end of the counter. Cautiously she dipped her finger in a thin white puddle that had formed on the tile next to the battered cake. Luke’s eyes followed the tip of her tongue as she tasted the goo on her finger.

"Too sweet for gravy or paint," she said after a moment, giving Cash a teasing sideways glance. She stirred the puddle with her fingertip, noted that the white stuck to everything except the brown mound it had been poured over, and smiled. "I do believe my brother has invented a fairly tasty form of library paste."

Luke snickered.

"Slander," Cash said, trying not to smile. "Is that why you turned down my kind offer to cook and insisted on bringing pizza instead?"

"Bingo," Carla said.

"Which reminds me, how much do I owe you for the pizza?"

"A hundred dollars."

Carla’s tone was so casual that it took a few instants for the amount to sink in.

Cash did a double take and asked, "What’s on that pizza – beluga caviar?"

"Pepperoni and mushrooms. I included the birthday present I knew you’d be too busy chasing rocks to get for me."

"Oh. What did I get you?"

"A few more weeks with Fred."

"Fred?" Luke said before he could stop himself. "Who the hell is Fred?"

"Fred’s a what," Carla said.

"Huh?"

"Now you’re getting the idea," she murmured.

Luke’s eyes narrowed.

"Fred’s her baby," Cash added unhelpfully.

"Do tell," Luke retorted. "And soon, I hope."

Carla fought against the smile she felt stealing over her lips, but couldn’t stifle it any more than she could prevent the helpless yearning that went through her when Luke smiled approvingly at her in return. He hadn’t changed. He was still tall, powerful, intense. His very dark brown hair set off his amber eyes, making them look gold in certain kinds of light. The trace of beard shadow beneath his high cheekbones perfectly suited his hard-jawed Slavic features.

For a moment it felt as though time had turned back upon itself, touching again the years before she had mistaken Luke’s affectionate tolerance for a very different kind of love. Longing swept through her, a futile wish that she had been different three years ago, or he had been; but she hadn’t, and he hadn’t, and the memories still shook her. She saw Luke as she had seen him that night, a huge, looming presence, his eyes a golden blaze of reflected firelight The width of his shoulders had blocked out the world when he bent down and swept her up in an embrace.

The first instants had been pure bliss, the culmination of years and years of dreaming; and then his arms had tightened and tightened and tightened until she couldn’t breathe. His mouth had become rough and demanding, forcing hers to open, giving her a kiss that was as hard and adult as the male body grinding intimately against hers. She had been confused, completely at a loss, and finally a little frightened. It wasn’t how she had envisioned Luke’s response to her declaration of love – where was the tenderness, the joy, the sweetness of knowing you loved and were loved in return?

With an effort, Carla banished the agonizing memories and answered Luke’s question. "Fred is my truck."

"Tell him the truth," advised Cash. "Fred is a battered, bewildered, dwarf four-by-four that does its best to play with the big boys. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve gotten a call and had to go and winch Carla out of some damned mud hole. Next time it happens I’ve got half a mind to make you go and get her, Luke. After all, it’s all your fault that she’s barreling all over the Four Corners chasing ancient shadows."

Luke’s intent, golden eyes fixed on Cash. "It is?"

"Damned straight. If you hadn’t given her that shard of Anasazi pottery you found somewhere up in September Canyon, she never would have become interested in archaeology. If she weren’t interested in archaeology, she wouldn’t have been off running after old bones with her professors every summer and most vacations."

"I thought it was boys that girls chased," Luke said, fixing Carla with enigmatic golden eyes.

"I gave up chasing boys right after I graduated from high school," Carla said flatly. "And stop trying to change the subject," she continued, turning to Cash, changing the subject herself. "You owe me fourteen bucks for the pizza."