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Approaching from the side, she switched on a small LED flashlight.
    â€œIt’s been a while, but the smell of this place brings it all back—though I’ve got to say it. You make a better-looking vet than old Doc Humphrey ever did.”
    â€œFlattery will get you nowhere, Beau Tyler.” Natalie felt the rush of heat to her face. It didn’t take much to make that happen. But then, with Beau, it never had.
    â€œI’m not sure how far I want it to get me now that you’re a married lady.”
    Natalie shifted behind the mare and bent closer to examine the vulva with her light. It was swollen, as it should be, the opening beginning to loosen and stretch. The teats were beaded with clear, honey-colored drops of colostrum, a sign her milk was coming in.
    â€œShe’s waxing. It won’t be long now—tonight or tomorrow morning, I’d say. Make sure Erin knows. Lupita’s her favorite mare, and if all goes well, her father’s promised her the foal to raise as her own. With Vaquero as the sire, she should have herself a champion horse.”
    â€œAre you happy, Natalie?”
    â€œWhat?” She’d put the flashlight down and was palpating the mare’s belly to determine the foal’s position. It was a guess at best, but so far, everything felt all right.
    â€œI asked Tori if you were happy. She said I should ask you. So I’m asking.”
    â€œYou mean am I happy with Slade?” She fumbled for the flashlight where she’d dropped it in the straw. “Not that it’s any of your business, but yes, of course I am. He’s a good man, and he loves me.”
    â€œBut no children.”
    â€œThat’s not your business either,” she said. “I’ve moved on, Beau. I have a career and a marriage—a life you’re not part of.” Easing away from the horse, she gulped back the ache in her throat. “So just take it for what it’s worth. Leave me alone.”
    She couldn’t help it. Always emotional, she felt the scalding surge of tears. They spilled over as she rose, stripped off her gloves, and walked out of the stall.
    â€œNatalie, are you all right?” Beau came out behind her. Latching the stall gate, he turned her shoulders to face him and saw her tears. “Oh, dammit, I’m sorry.” His arms pulled her close, a gesture of comfort. “I shouldn’t have grilled you like that. You’re right—we’ve both moved on. Your life is none of my business.”
    She stood rigid in the circle of his arms. “It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have come here today.”
    â€œNo—I’m the one who doesn’t belong here.” His clasp tightened around her. “Tomorrow I’ll be leaving.”
    Natalie closed her eyes, drawing him into her senses—the warm tensile strength of his arms, the fresh sage smell of his skin, the steady drumming of his heart against her ear. After all these years, the connection between them was still there. But Beau was right. They’d both moved on.
    His breath ruffled the hair on her forehead. Memories surged—the sweet and the bitter. Summer nights on a blanket under the stars, their urgent young bodies giving each other love the only way they knew how. And that last, parting moment, holding him with every ounce of strength, as if to mold his imprint to her and carry it away. Even then she’d known that things would never be the same between them. But until he stopped writing, she’d refused to believe it.
    The urge to feel his lips on hers one last time touched an ache inside her—an ache too deep and powerful to be denied. Natalie’s booted feet pushed her to her tiptoes. She tilted her face upward, feeling the catch of his breath as he bent toward her.
    A clatter from one of the stalls startled them both. They sprang apart as if a gunshot had been fired between them. “Who’s there?” Beau called.