Page 86 of Wyoming Heart

“I’ll see what I can do,” Mina promised.

Chaca smiled. “We will hope for change, then. Here, eat your omelet before it gets cold.”

“The coffee is good,” Mina said.

“It is decaf,” came the dry reply. “Caffeine is not good for the baby.”

Mina just laughed.

VICCAMEOUTof his room near bedtime. Mina was in the guest room with the door open, working away at the computer. It was a wonderful coincidence that she was working on a book set in Texas, and here she was in the best place to research it. Life, she thought, was funny.

She was deep in the middle of a shoot-out between rustlers and cowboys in the modern day setting when Vic paused at the doorway, frowning.

“What are you writing?” he asked.

She couldn’t quite come out of the scene he’d interrupted. She turned slowly, her eyes blank as she tried to bridge the gap from fantasy to reality.

He came into the room, hands in his pockets, and frowned as he noticed the book on her desk. “Hey, I’ve read that book,” he said, picking up the copy ofSPECTRE. “It’s really great!”

“Thanks,” she said without thinking. And then she flushed wildly as she realized what she’d done.

He didn’t notice her consternation. He was looking at the author’s page on the back flap, the one that had a picture of Mina on it. “Willow Shane,” he murmured. He looked at Mina with sudden realization. “That’s you?” he exclaimed.

She ground her teeth together. “Yes,” she said in a small voice.

“Well!” He let out a breath and laughed. “One of my sons bought it for his wife, and she went crazy over it. She shared it with her readers club and even sent copies to friends all over the country.”

“I’m very flattered,” she said, and meant it.

“So you knit and ranch and write books.” He beamed. “You know, my wife always wanted to write a book.” He trailed off. “She’s a good woman. Better than I deserved. I cheated on her because she paid more attention to her family than she did to me. Her brother had just died of cancer and her family was grieving. I was an idiot.” He smiled sadly. “Now I’ve lost her, and she’s the first woman I ever really loved, except for my first wife.”

She saved her work and got up from the desk. “Want to talk about it?” she asked.

He shrugged. “Well, yes.”

“Come on downstairs. Chaca’s gone, but I can make coffee.”

He smiled. “Okay.”

HETOLDHERall about his wife, Sandra, and their explosive meeting.

“She was sitting at a table on the beach and I tripped over her purse,” he recalled, his dark eyes soft with memory. “She helped me up, all apologies, and I looked into the bluest eyes I’d ever seen. I was hooked at once. She didn’t know that I was wealthy. Kind of like you, with my son,” he added with a smile. “She fell in love with a businessman. We got married and I brought her to Latigo. I thought she was going to faint. She’d worked as a newspaper reporter on a small weekly paper, but she was a stringer for one of the bigger papers in Vermont near her home. She was a good writer.” He paused. “She wanted to write a novel, but she didn’t think she had the talent.”

“Most of us who write just sit down and get on with it,” she said wistfully. “I never had great talent, but I was persistent and I had friends who believed in me. They pushed me to send a manuscript off to a publisher.” She sighed. “It took a few false starts, but I finally sold a book.SPECTREis actually my fourth novel, but it’s the one that’s getting all the attention. It’s on theUSA Todaylist and climbing, and it just made theNew York Timeslist.” She looked at him worriedly. “I’ve got to go on tour week after next...”

“No problem, we’ve got two airplanes and a jet,” he teased. “We’ll get you there and back.”

“That would be nice. I hate flying commercial.”

“So do I. That’s why we have two airplanes and a jet,” he confided with a grin. He sipped coffee. He scowled. He looked up at her suddenly. “I remember something from the book jacket. You actually slogged through swamps in Central America with a group of mercenaries to researchSPECTRE?” he exclaimed.

She nodded. “A commando group adopted me after the first book.” She laughed. “They put me through a training course you wouldn’t believe. Then they packed me up and took me on missions. I’m only just back from Nicaragua. We rescued a kidnapped child. I’m still taking quinine tablets to make sure I don’t come down with malaria.”

“Did you know you were pregnant when you went to Nicaragua?” he asked worriedly.

“No,” she confessed. She sighed. “I spoke to my doctor, before we left Wyoming. At this stage of the pregnancy, he said I should be fine. I’ll have to find a local obstetrician, though,” she added.

“We’ll do that tomorrow,” he said. He smiled. “And I’ll stop drinking. For a while, at least.”

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