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roat was hot and swollen with the grief of losing him again. In an instant he was gone, leaving her cold and bereft, just as he had done nearly eight years ago....
She slumped to the floor totally alone and surveyed the cabin with new eyes. Was this the place, the very spot, where her love for Trevor had begun?
The tears ran down her face in earnest as she remembered the first time she had ever laid eyes upon the ruggedly handsome face of Trevor Daniels.
Chapter Seven
Eight years ago, at the age of twenty-four, Ashley had been aware of the vicious rivalry between Stephens Timber and Daniels Logging. The rumors surrounding her father and some of his business practices couldn’t be completely ignored, although Ashley chalked most of the gossip up to envy. Lazarus Stephens was a man of wealth and power. That was enough to start the eager fires of gossip running wild throughout the Oregon timber industry.
After she had graduated from a university in Paris, Ashley had taken a job with her father’s company. In the year since she had started with the firm, she had held several positions; it had been apparent from the start that Lazarus was grooming his only child for the presidency of Stephens Timber, if—and when—he decided to retire. Ashley had been only too willing to follow in her father’s footsteps. The only person who’d seemed to mind at all was her cousin Claud, who had been with Stephens Timber for several years and was jealous of his younger cousin.
Though she didn’t like to admit it, Ashley realized that she had been spoiled beyond reproach by her overly indulgent father. Lazarus had lavished Ashley with anything she wanted after her mother’s death. Expensive schooling abroad, flashy European sports cars, exotic vacations anywhere in the world; nothing had been too good for Lazarus’s only child.
The end result was that Ashley had grown up pampered and expected to be treated like a princess. In a word, she was spoiled. And at twenty-four, it had begun to bother her. Her conscience had begun to twinge, if only slightly.
On her first vacation since starting to work with the company, Ashley decided to cancel her planned Mediterranean cruise, and instead, she spent her free time at her father’s rustic cabin in the Cascade Mountains not far from Bend. For the first time in her life, Ashley began to recognize that the world didn’t revolve around her or Stephens Timber. The glamorous life she had heretofore led began to lose its luster and appeal.
Even the image of her father was beginning to dim. She told herself that she had overheard too many idle tongues wagging, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t quite right with all of Lazarus’s business dealings. Though she was loath to admit it, Ashley was beginning to wonder about the truth in the rumor surrounding Robert Daniels’s disappearance. It was one subject her father avoided like the plague. He would never discuss anything to do with Robert Daniels or what had come between Lazarus and the man who had once been his business partner. Not even with Ashley. At the mention of Robert Daniels’s name, Lazarus would visibly pale and then gruffly dismiss the subject. For the past year, ever since she had left the security of school abroad, Lazarus’s animosity toward Robert Daniels had begun to make Ashley uneasy. She needed time to think things out and reevaluate her pampered life. And so, at the first opportunity, Ashley took off for the mountains.
The solitude of the rustic retreat made her depend solely upon herself for the first time in her life. The cabin hadn’t been used since the summer before and smelled musty. As soon as she had changed into faded jeans, Ashley opened the windows, aired the rooms, washed the linen and scrubbed floors feverishly. No job was too difficult. She stacked wood in the garage and washed windows inside and out. At night her muscles ached, but she fell into a restless sleep with a feeling of vast accomplishment.
For the first week, she spent all of her time at the cabin either cleaning, experimenting in the rustic kitchen, reading or riding the horses that her father kept on the place. Zach Lambert usually took care of the two geldings, but while Ashley was staying at the cabin, she looked after the horses, much to Zach’s obvious disapproval.
It was the second weekend since she had come to the mountains when the trouble began. Zach’s daughter, Sara, who had been a childhood friend of Ashley’s, insisted that Ashley come to a party Sara was hostessing for some of her friends from college. Ashley wasn’t in the mood for a party and didn’t want to attend, but found the prospect of spending another afternoon by herself just as dull. Besides, Ashley rationalized, there wasn’t a polite way of declining. The Lambert place was just up the lane, and both Sara and her parents knew that Ashley was alone. There was no choice but to attend the party and hope for the best.
Ashley walked into the Lambert cabin knowing she had made a big mistake. The only person she recognized was Sara, and as hostess, Sara was dashing in and out, from one knot of jeans-clad guests to another. She smiled and waved to Ashley before hurrying into the kitchen to replenish a tray of hors d’oeuvres.
Ashley wandered through the modern cedar cabin and captured the attention of more than one pair of appreciative male eyes. In her backless apricot sundress, with her long black hair flowing loosely past her shoulders, she looked the part of a rich man’s daughter.
Her green eyes moved over the other guests with cool disinterest, the smile on her face well practiced but vague. She wondered why she had accepted the invitation to the party at all and hoped she could find a viable excuse to leave the festivities early and return to the solitude of her father’s cabin. She needed time alone to think about her life, her father and the business.
She accepted a glass of wine before edging toward the sliding glass door leading to the back of the cabin. Feeling the need to escape from the laughter and thick cigarette smoke, Ashley slipped out of the cabin and away from the crowd.
When she stepped onto the deck, a tall, broad-shouldered man approached her. He was older than she, but probably not yet thirty. His face was handsome, if somewhat angular, and his eyes were the deepest shade of blue she had ever seen.
He studied her intently, not bothering to hide his interest. Ashley experienced the disturbing feeling that she should recognize him. There was something familiar about him that made her uneasy.
The set of his mouth was slightly cynical for so young a man, and a few soft lines etched his forehead, giving him a wiser, more worldly appearance than could be expected for a man his age. His thick hair ruffled slightly in the wind and Ashley noticed that the chestnut color was streaked with gold—as if this man spent many hours in the sun.
Probably a cowboy, she thought to herself, glancing at his worn jeans and boots.
He stopped a few feet from her and leaned against the railing of the deck, supporting himself with his elbows as he stared brazenly at her.
“Is there something I can do for you?” she asked, tossing her wavy black hair behind her shoulders.
His thoughtful eyes narrowed. “Do I know you?”
“There’s an original line,” she retorted.
“It’s not a line.”
“Then, I doubt it.” Ashley was sure that she would remember such a proud, defiant face.
A glimmer of recognition flashed in his eyes. “You’re Ashley Stephens,” he stated, as if the name meant something to him.
“And you’re . . .” She lifted her dark brows expressively, begging his indulgence.
“Trevor Daniels.”
