A Woman's Touch

deep down, expected to escape a lonely future.
    There had been moments during their short time as a couple when Kyle had not looked so aloof and alone.
    There had been times when Kyle had looked like a man who was falling in love. Rebecca told herself she must have been mistaken.
    Three blocks from the condominium, Rebecca pulled into the parking lot of a grocery store and let the tears fall.

FIVE
    It was the kind of summer day that had made the Colorado Mountains famous. The air was crystal clear, the sun dazzling on distant snow-capped peaks. The trees grew right down to the edge of the serpentine highway.
    Rebecca took little pleasure in the magnificent scenery. She was intent on reaching her destination, a small town buried in the mountains. From there, the lawyer had told her, it was only a short drive to Harmony Valley. The keys to the house Alice Cork had lived in alone for so many years were in the bottom of Rebecca’s purse.
    Rebecca had not bothered phoning Theresa to inform her she would not be in to work today. She figured Kyle could handle that problem. It would be interesting to see how he explained his lack of knowledge of her whereabouts.
    The whole staff, after all, was well aware of the recent change in the boss’s living arrangements.
    Knowing Kyle, though, he probably wouldn’t
    bother to make an excuse
    for his missing
    executive-assistant-live-in-lover. And no one would dare question him directly. Speculation would run rampant. And the staff was loyal enough to Rebecca now for the gossip to easily turn against Kyle.
    That thought brought Rebecca little satisfaction. She was still dealing with the open wound Kyle had inflicted on her. She had no sympathy to spare for the man who had caused it. Kyle probably wouldn’t give a damn if his whole crew began fulminating against him, anyway. Little things like that didn’t bother Stockbridge.
    But she had been unable to get Kyle’s bleak, closed expression out of her mind. No matter how hard she tried, she’
    d been haunted by the shuttered, isolated look she had last seen on his face.
    It had seemed for a while that Kyle was emerging from the shadows that surrounded him. But the events yesterday had proved he was as shrouded in them as ever.
    A two-time loser, he had called himself. Rebecca shook her head in dismay. No wonder the man hadn’t bothered to mention marriage. He was probably willing to marry to get the land, just as his father and grandfather had been, but with his record Kyle must have figured he had a better chance at a simple seduction than at a proposal.
    Besides, Rebecca reminded herself bitterly, a live-in relationship was a lot easier to end than a more formal arrangement. Kyle was probably tired of terminating marriages and engagements.
    He’d had too much experience in that department already.
    Rebecca chided herself for the anguished uncertainty she had been enduring since the scene in Kyle’s condo. He had wanted her trust but he had no right to demand it, she told herself. What had he given her in exchange for the love and trust she’d already given him?
    He’d kept his secrets well. She wondered how much longer he would have remained silent about Harmony Valley and Rebecca’s role in a feud that spanned three generations. Kyle must have known time was running out on him. Yet he had stalled right up until the lawyer’s letter had landed on Rebecca’s desk.
    That wasn’t like Kyle, she reflected. He was a man of action.
    It was almost as if he hadn’t wanted to deal with the situation he himself had created. It was as if he’d been crossing his fingers and hoping his luck would hold out. He had trusted to fortune that everything would go smoothly instead of blowing up in his face.
    The Stockbridges were known for their luck, he’d said.
    In certain matters.
    Rebecca could well believe in the Stockbridge luck when it came to business, although she would have said it was luck based on a certain aggressive boldness, a savvy intelligence and shrewd instincts. A gunfighter’s luck.
    She’d been right when she’d first decided that Kyle Stockbridge had been born in the wrong era. He belonged back in a more lawless time when men made their own rules out here in the Colorado wilderness.
    Rebecca made good time. The small town named on the lawyer’s page of directions hardly warranted the label. It consisted of little more than a couple of gas stations, a cafe, a grocery store, tavern and one tiny motel.
    Rebecca