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but she was anxious to get things back on track. Her track. “Yes, well … as I was saying, gentlemen?” She raised her voice to get the party back in order. They settled quickly, but as she wrapped up her presentation, Reyne could tell that the interruption had done critical damage. They were not all inagreement on her project. She could see it on their faces as clearly as if they were holding up numbered judging cards after watching her fall on the ice, hind-end first.
    She stumbled over her words, distracted by the mental image, and lamely finished up. No sooner had she sat down than Logan McCabe stood, saying, “Great! Sounds like I missed a good presentation. You guys will have to make a tough decision. But wait until you get a load of what I want to do with the government’s money …”
    Reyne looked around the table as Logan began his presentation, a loosely concepted idea about some “horizontal stabilizer.” They were entranced. It was like being back at high school, watching a bunch of gaga girls hang on every word that left the school jock’s mouth. And his project had to do with air compression and darts.
Like something out of a James Bond movie
, she thought.
Not the more mundane ins and outs of computer science
.
    As she focused, she had to admit that Logan was onto something, and something exciting, especially for smokejumpers. But could it save as many lives as hers could? And had he spent the time and effort developing the idea that she had? Obviously not. He relied on short jokes and a nudge-nudge camaraderie to get them all on board. Yet on board he got them, she grudgingly admitted.
    She watched as he spoke animatedly, gesticulating in excitement, pulling each person into each word he uttered. His charisma was unmistakable, his leadership skills obvious. He was charming and handsome and buddies with every one of these guys.
    Logan McCabe will get my funding
, Reyne mused in disappointment.
Just as surely as Dirk Tanner will fish for the biggest rainbow trout in the Kootenai this summer
.

C HAPTER T WO
    R eyne sipped her coffee from a deep mug and smiled as she spotted the dusty Jeep far below her on the highway. It was the Tanners’ Jeep, which meant that Rachel was driving, probably after picking up Beth at the Double M. Within months of Reyne’s arrival in Elk Horn, their Saturday morning get-together had become a weekly routine, and Reyne always looked forward to it.
    With a happy sigh, Reyne gazed out past the still-distant vehicle to the little town of Elk Horn, the airstrip, and the Rockies beyond. It was a beautiful spring morning. And Reyne adored her new home, situated on a small hill at the southwestern corner of the Morgans’ sprawling ranch—the Double M. She had saved for years to build. And now she had the house of her dreams, with a view to boot.
    She smiled again as the Jeep finally pulled up in front of the cottage and Rachel, full of her usual energy, swung her long legs out. Reyne sobered as Beth emerged more slowly, taking her time, obviously not feeling well.
The cancer …
She pushed the thought away and put on a happy face as the two turned toward her.
    “Good morning!” she called. “You two finally extricated yourselves from family?”
    “It takes a while to get a baby situated with Dirk,” Rachel said, climbing the steps to the wooden porch and giving her friend a big hug. “You know, even with Mary there, this is supposed to be strict Papa time. So I have to get everything set: clean diapers, bottles,clothes … It’s almost more work than bringing the baby with me.”
    “Try prying a three-year-old from your leg as if you’re leaving her forever,” Beth said, joining them. Her smile faltered as she realized what she had said. Her friends hesitated, the words hanging in the air.
    “Come on in for a caffeine and sugar fix,” Reyne smoothed over. “I’ve been looking forward to some girl talk for days.”
    She hurried to the kitchen for two more