Savannah couldn’t have said why, but she had the impression that these details weren’t something he shared often. She told herself it was silly to feel honored—but she did, anyway.

She must have smiled because he responded with a grin of his own. It amazed her how a simple smile could transform his drained features. A hint of something warm and kind showed in his sun-weathered face, mesmerizing her for a moment. A little shocked by her own response, Savannah decided she was being fanciful and looked away. Laredo Smith was a stranger and she’d do well to take care.

“If you’d like, you can put your saddle in the truck bed,” she offered, and walked to the back to lower the tailgate.

The leather creaked as he lifted it from his shoulder and wearily set it down. He hesitated when he saw the roses and reached out a callused hand toward the fragile buds. Gently he fingered a delicate pink petal.

“They are antique roses, aren’t they?” He closed his eyes and breathed in the distinctive perfumed scent of the flowers.

His knowledge surprised her. Few people knew about old roses or had heard the term. In her research Savannah had learned that many of the roses found in Texas were of unknown lineage, recovered from hidden corners and byways in an ongoing search-and-rescue mission—like the one she’d been on that very day. Savannah was well aware that some would describe her as a “rose rustler”; it wasn’t how she thought of herself. Her overwhelming motivation was her love of the flowers.

“You know about old roses?” she asked.

“My grandmother had a rose garden and she grew roses passed down by her own grandmother. It must be at least twenty years since I saw one. Where’d you ever find these?”

Her pause was long enough for him to notice. “In an old graveyard,” she said. “Near, um, an abandoned town.” While it was the truth, it wasn’t the entire truth, but Savannah didn’t dare add any details about the ghost town. Only a few people in Promise had even heard of Bitter End. And although Grady had repeatedly warned her against seeking it out, he’d never told her exactly what was so threatening about the long-deserted town.

Only now did Savannah understand her brother’s concerns. The dangers weren’t found in the crumbling buildings or the abandoned wells; no, they weren’t so easily explained. She couldn’t help shuddering as she remembered the sensation of...darkness that had come over her when she’d first set foot on the still, silent grounds. Even that didn’t adequately describe the emotions she’d experienced. It wasn’t a feeling of evil so much as a pressing sadness, a pain and grief so raw that a hundred years hadn’t dimmed its intensity.

Knowing little of the town’s history, Savannah had felt defenseless and almost afraid. Years earlier, Grady and two of his friends had heard their parents discussing Bitter End, but when Savannah questioned her mother, she’d refused to talk about it. From Grady, Savannah had learned that the town was said to have been settled by Promise’s founding fathers. Why they’d moved, what had happened to prompt the relocation, was an unsolved mystery. For all she knew, it was something as mundane as water rights. Although that would hardly account for what she’d felt....

Despite Grady’s warnings, Savannah had found Bitter End and dug up the old roses in the graveyard, but she hadn’t ventured beyond the fenced area beside the church. She left as quickly as she could. By the time she made it back to the truck, she was pale and trembling.

She’d driven away without looking back. She hadn’t investigated any of the other buildings, and she was annoyed now for letting the opportunity pass. She might have found more old roses had she taken the time to search.

“They’re beautiful,” Laredo said. The light pink bud, perfectly formed, lay like a jewel in the palm of his hand.

“They truly are exquisite, aren’t they?” The sheer joy and excitement she’d felt on discovering the roses quickened her voice. “I just couldn’t be happier! It’s so much more than I hoped to find!”

His gaze held hers and he nodded, seeming to share her enthusiasm.

Warming to her subject, Savannah added, “It’s incredible to think they’ve survived all these years without anyone to care for them.”

Laredo gently withdrew his hand from the rosebud.

“Would you be more comfortable if I rode in the back, ma’am?” he asked.

“Savannah,” she insisted.

The smile returned again, briefly. “Savannah,” he echoed.

“You’re welcome to ride in front with me.”

He climbed slowly into the cab and she could see that the action pained him considerably.

“I don’t suppose you know anyone who’s looking for a good wrangler?” he asked.

“I’m sorry, I don’t,” she said with sincere regret.

He nodded and winced, pressing his hand against his ribs.

“You’ve been hurt,” she said.

“A cracked rib or two,” he answered, obviously embarrassed by her concern. “My own damn fault,” he muttered.

“A horse?”

“Not exactly.” His voice was rueful, a bit ironic. “I got shoved against a fence by a bull. You’d think that after all these years working ranches, I’d know better than to let myself get cornered by a bull.”

“My daddy cracked a rib once and he said it left him feeling like he’d been gnawed by a coyote, then dumped over a cliff.”

Laredo chuckled. “Your daddy sounds like he’s got quite a sense of humor.”

“He did,” Savannah agreed softly, starting the engine. She knew the tires hitting the ruts in the road would hurt him, so she drove slowly and carefully.

Laredo glanced over his shoulder—to check on his saddle, Savannah suspected. She was surprised when he mentioned the roses a second time. “I never thought to smell roses like those again.”

“I’m so glad I found them!” she burst out. “These are the best ones yet.” Their scent was sweet and strong and pure, far more aromatic than modern hybrids. These roses from Bitter End were probably White Lady Banks—a rare and precious find.

Savannah talked excitedly about her roses; the cowboy encouraged her, asking interested and knowledgeable questions.

What surprised Savannah was how comfortable she felt with Laredo Smith. They could have talked for hours. Generally when it came to conversation with a man, especially a stranger, Savannah was shy and reticent. The ease with which she talked to Laredo was unprecedented.

It wasn’t just roses they talked about, either. Soon Savannah found herself telling him about her gardens at the ranch and the love her mother, Barbara, had for flowers. One topic led swiftly to another. She described Promise and assured him it was a friendly town. He asked about having his truck repaired and she mentioned a couple of reliable garages.

“Oh, my,” she said, and held her palm to her mouth.

“Is something wrong?”

“I got to chatting away and almost missed the turnoff for the ranch.” Such a thing had never happened before. Then, hardly knowing what she was doing, she glanced over at him and said, “The fact is, Laredo, the Yellow Rose could use an extra hand. If you need a job, we’d be happy to offer you one.”

Laredo brightened visibly. “I’m good with horses and I’m willing to work hard.”

“Grady’ll probably have a few questions for you.” She added this second part knowing her brother wasn’t going to be pleased with her hiring a stranger. In the past he’d always been the one to do the hiring and firing, but if he took offense, he could discuss the matter with her. Every instinct she possessed told her Laredo Smith was worthy of their trust. Besides, they needed extra help, whether Grady was willing to admit it or not.

Laredo grew quiet, and then she felt his eyes on her. “Since you offered me the job, I think it’s only fair to tell you I was fired from my last position.” He told her he’d been accused of theft, wrongly accused. He neither cast nor accepted blame. “I may be a lot of things, but a thief isn’t one of them. If you change your mind, I’ll understand.”