From Chapter One
     Sitting on a bench in the Red Rock, Colorado train station, Sara Carleton stared at the number on her cell phone’s screen. Should she call her father or not? He’d still be angry, but he’d be worried, too. She should at least let him know she was all right. She punched the Send button and held the phone to her ear.
     “Carleton residence,” said a familiar voice.
     As she’d expected, her father’s household manager answered the call. “Hello, Foster, it’s Sara.”
     “Miss Sara! Hold on. I’ll get your father right away.”
     She pictured him, in his uniform of white shirt, black slacks and vest, hurrying off to summon his employer, J. Edward Carleton, III.
     While she waited, Sara gazed around the train station. Red Rock was not her final destination. She’d begun her journey yesterday from her home in Long Island, New York, intending to travel across the country to California. Late this afternoon, the conductor announced a delay of several hours in Red Rock, while engine repairs were made.
     Her gaze roved over the busy ticket counter, a cafe’s arched doorway, and landed on a newsstand, where a man stood reading a newspaper. A brown cowboy hat hid most of his face, but his broad shoulders, lean waist, and long legs in hip-hugging jeans were in full view.
     The man looked up, and, and though he’d known someone observed him, his gaze shot straight to her. Deep-set, dark eyes widened, and then narrowed in a sexy way.
     A shiver of excitement sped down Sara’s spine.
     They continued to stare across the room, not even breaking contact when people passed between them. Although certain she’d never seen the man before, she had the craziest feeling she somehow knew him.
     “Sara, where are you?”
     Her father’s deep voice, full of all the ferocity and indignation she had expected, jolted her. Reluctantly, she turned away from the cowboy. Keeping her voice calm, she said, “I just wanted to let you know I’m all right.”
    “Okay, but why did you take off without telling me you were leaving?”
    “I think you know.”
    “The little discussion we had about your marrying Grayson?” He snorted. “You have bride’s nerves. Very common and nothing to worry about.”
    Sara pursed her lips. He always presumed to know her feelings, while in truth, he hadn’t a clue. “But--”
    “You’re having a wedding, and no more arguments!”
    Aware of the hard bench underneath her, she shifted to a more comfortable position. Just the thought of marrying Grayson was enough to panic Sara. He was handsome and well mannered, but she wasn’t in love with him. His kisses left her cold. She could go for days without seeing or talking to him and almost forget he existed.
    No, her relationship with Grayson couldn’t be love.
    Her father didn’t care about love. He dismissed the ten-year difference in their ages, insisting she and Grayson made a perfect match. He blatantly ignored her attempts to explain how she felt.
    “Where are you?” her father queried. “We’ve already checked Palm Beach and Stowe, and no one’s seen you.”
    After the last argument, desperation had sent her on the run. “I need to get away for a while.”
    “Fine that’s what the houses at Palm Beach and Stowe are for.”
    “Not to someplace I visit all the time. I mean, really away.” She only hoped California would be far enough,
    “Quit behaving like a rebellious teenager. You’re twenty-two, and it’s time to assume a woman’s responsibilities. I’ve invested a great deal in you--nannies, tutors, private schools, trips to Europe. I even sent you to the gourmet cooking school you insisted on attending, although I thought it a waste of time for someone of your social position.”
    There he went again, laying on a guilt trip. When he wanted his way, he always dragged out his litany of all he’d done.
    Anger exploded inside Sara, anger she wouldn’t dare express were they face to face. “Yes, that’s all I am to you, an investment! Just like your stocks and bonds, and your shopping malls.”
    “Now, Sara--”
    Her fingers tightened on the phone. “Maybe I’ll call you again sometime.”
    “What? Wait!”
    “I’m hanging up now.”
    “Grayson and I will track you down! I know you didn’t take any clothes. You’ll leave a credit card trail. We’ll find you!”
    “Goodbye, Dad.”