Two

      Day entered the kitchen quietly, resisting the urge to slam the door with all his strength. He couldn’t believe he’d had this...this actress in his house for two days without even knowing it. He slapped the paper down on the kitchen counter. “What the hell is the meaning of this?”

      Dulcie, who was chopping lettuce at the sink, jumped visibly. “Don’t do that when I’m holding a sharp knife,” she complained. But as she turned and caught sight of his face, her expression changed from irritation to wariness. “The meaning of what?”

      “This.” Day stabbed a rigid forefinger at the article and accompanying photograph. He knew his anger was written all over his face but he didn’t care. “You know how I feel about having my private life exposed to the public. You know how hard I’ve worked to be sure Beth Ann is shielded from—from this, and yet you deliberately invite a woman you know will bring nothing but notoriety to visit this ranch.”

      “Oh, excuse me.” Angel—no, Angelique—hovered in the doorway. “I didn’t mean to interrupt a family matter.”

      He felt his temperature boil a notch higher at her unfailing politeness. Didn’t the woman ever have an honest moment of irritation or pique? With an acid courtesy of his own, he said, “Come right in, Miss Sumner.”

      She froze, and her face showed shock for an instant before she wiped it carefully blank as she took a hesitant step forward. In that instant, he was suddenly sure his suspicions were correct.

      He didn’t attempt to hide the hateful sneer in his voice as he said, “I wouldn’t want you to miss this discussion, particularly since you’ve had a hand in deceiving me. How long did you think it would take me to figure out who you were?” He shoved his face close to hers, so furious that he was shaking. “How stupid do you think I am?”

      As soon as the words left his mouth, he regretted them. Jada wouldn’t have missed such an obvious opportunity for a stinging put-down. But Angelique Sumner ignored it.

      “Dulcie didn’t intend to deceive you,” she said. Her words were quiet, but he could see her delicate jaw set in a surprisingly pugnacious line.

      “Oh, no?” He tapped the paper furiously with an accusing finger. “What am I supposed to believe? That she just conveniently forgot to mention her houseguest was one of Hollywood’s darlings?”

      Dulcie made a sound of angry protest, but again it was Angel—Angelique—who spoke. “Like me, I imagine she didn’t realize it needed any mention.”

      “Why the hell not?” He was so mad he was yelling.

      “I thought you knew who I was!” Angel yelled back.

      He was so surprised that the quiet woman who’d been floating around the ranch for the past few days could raise her voice that he was momentarily speechless. She even looked shocked at herself.

      Taking a deep breath, she said more quietly, “Dulcie and I have been friends since high school, long before I started acting professionally. I assumed you knew who I was before I came here.”

      Dulcie stepped forward to stand shoulder to shoulder with her taller guest. “I honestly thought you knew, Day. It wasn’t meant to be a secret.”

      He had the distinct impression the two women were uniting against him. When they put it that way, his anger seemed all out of proportion. Still, he wasn’t willing to back down so easily. He said, “If you weren’t trying to hide anything, then why doesn’t the press know where you are?” Again he pointed to the headline.

      Angel sighed. “I deliberately didn’t tell anyone where I was going. I needed some space to think, to make some decisions I’ve been putting off. When Dulcie extended the invitation to come to the Red Arrow, I knew it was an opportunity I couldn’t pass up. She’s not related to me. There are no obvious connections. I was careful about leaving town and I’ve been making an effort to be inconspicuous—”

      “You don’t say,” Day drawled, giving an exaggerated glance at her dolled-up image in the photo and then looking back at her.

      She paused and gave him an uncertain smile, clearly not sure whether he was baiting her or not. Then she said quietly, “I realize that you must have some strong reservations about my presence here. If you like, I’ll leave.”

      “No!” Dulcie glared at Day. “She’s not hurting anyone. Angel couldn’t hurt anyone.” She crossed her arms defiantly. “If she leaves, I leave.”

      Day grimaced. Given a choice, he would have accepted Angelique Sumner’s offer to remove herself from his ranch. But he needed Dulcie. Pilar, the ranch housekeeper of thirty years, had retired when she broke a hip two months ago. Since then, he’d had to hire and fire three housekeepers.

      Finally, Dulcie had agreed to come and stay with Beth Ann until he could find yet another replacement. If Dulcie left, he couldn’t keep Beth Ann with him.

      He’d had the idea of sending her to a baby-sitter’s house while he was out on the range some months ago, but when Jada found out, she’d used it to make him look like an unfit father. No, he had to keep Beth Ann here. Which meant he needed Dulcie. Which meant he was stuck with Angel whatever-she-was-going-to-be-called for the next two weeks.

      “All right,” he said. “You win.” He wasn’t certain which one of the women he was addressing. “But no more secrets.”

      “It wasn’t a secret.” Angel’s voice was firm and vehement. “But after seeing how worked up you are, I’d have to say you’re right. I wouldn’t have told you because I’d have figured you’d have a paranoid hang-up with my career.”

      “And you’d be right.” His words were flat and unapologetic. Turning, he snatched his hat from the peg where he’d hung it and slammed out of the kitchen. As he passed through it on his way to the barn, the only refuge he had away from the house, he gave the door of the utility room a satisfying bang.

      * * *

      Sunlight streaming across her face woke her, making her squint and throw an arm across her eyes. Morning. Slowly Angel swam out of the depths of sleep, hating the exhausted feeling that always dogged her these days. Why had she thought it might be different, better, here? She was lucky to fall asleep before dawn. Same old story. She couldn’t sleep, and when she did, she couldn’t get awake again. Catch-22.

      The clock said 9:25. She sat up, forcing herself out of lethargy. This was her third full day on the ranch and she’d hoped to help Dulcie with her chores. Sleeping in like a slothful vacationer was not what she’d had in mind. Besides, it would only confirm all the bad things Day Kincaid was convinced she embodied. Darn grumpy man anyway.

      Her stomach growled loudly—past time for breakfast. Quickly she made her bed and dressed, leaving her face bare of makeup and confining her hair in a wide barrette at the back of her head. As she opened her door, her stomach growled again. Kitchen. Food. She was used to eating at the crack of dawn. She went down the steps and headed for the kitchen.

      Dulcie was making cookies. As she entered the room, the delicious smell assaulted her empty stomach with an almost physical pain.

      “Hi, sleepyhead.” Dulcie smiled from the counter where she was working. “I guess you want some breakfast.”