Chapter One Even with her fingers laced tightly into her hair-her palms tightly positioned over both ears-Maggie could hear the squeals of merriment echoing through her closed office door. She squeezed her tired eyes shut-blinding herself to the boring official document she'd been attempting to read-and wished her headache away. Since when did wishing work anyway? Grimacing, she attempted to pull her fingers from her hair-only to yelp in pain as her amethyst ring snarled itself into her tresses. Still trying to dislodge her ring, she rose from her desk and opened the door to the long hallway. She glanced down at the perpetrators who'd interrupted her thoughts. Sarah and Becky clung to each other as their laughter evidently weakened their knees. Maggie noticed tears of glee coursing unhampered down both their faces. This had better be good. Both Sara and Becky had worked at the radio station long enough to know that even with the door shut to the sound-proof studio, it was possible that their guffaws could be heard over the air. No doubt hundreds-okay maybe dozens-of faithful listeners were now wondering just what was going on at the station. No doubt, it was a matter of speculation by their listeners on more than one occasion. Maggie worked at KVIC, and she often wondered just what was going on. "Okay, you two," Maggie reproved, walking briskly down the hallway toward them. Impatiently, she finally ripped her ring from her hair-gasping at the sudden deep pain which only intensified her headache. "You know better than this. Just what is so funny?" "Memories," Sarah laughed, wiping a small hand across one eye before wiping the smudged mascara which had deposited itself on her finger across the jeans-encased butt of her co-perpetrator. Becky jumped away from her and perched on the edge of one of the desks in the sales office. "Did Doug tell you who's coming?" "Doug rarely informs me of anything important-unless you consider his latest conquest vital information," Maggie replied, idly pulling strands of her hair from the tines holding the amethyst in place in her ring. Doug-the station owner who jokingly referred to himself as the "station stud"-was always boasting of his romantic conquests. Well, he might be serious about the nickname, but none of the women who worked there considered it more than a joke. Maggie'd made it clear to him six months earlier when she started working at the station that she wouldn't be just another notch on his broadcasting "tower." "You're absolutely right about that, Maggie. No…we just heard that Casey's on his way. Isn't that just the greatest news? It's been so boring around here. A visit from Casey'll liven things up," Becky giggled. She flipped her hair over her shoulder. Maggie watched Becky's eyes narrow cattily as she smirked. "I would have thought Doug would have told his program director about it before we heard anything." "That's the communications business for you," Maggie sighed. "There's no communications unless you hear it off the grapevine." So, the wonderfully fabulous Casey was finally going to make an appearance at the station. Immediately, Maggie began mentally preparing the list of all the things that needed repairs around the station. She couldn't believe that Doug thought he could operate an AM station with a chief engineer that seemed to only show up once in the proverbial blue moon. On second thought, that was in line with Doug's personality. Not only was Doug a would-be Casanova, he was also the stingiest man she'd ever met. Doug would skin a flea for its hide, then try to sell it a new fur coat. And Casey-what kind of guy was he? She'd heard the legendary tales from Sarah and Becky and the rest of the staff at KVIC about Casey. Casey-the Adonis. Casey-the prankster. Casey-the hero. Casey-the possessor of incredible, iron buns. All she knew was that Casey was about six months late for routine maintenance at the station. That sort of irresponsible behavior irritated her to no end. If she'd been the station owner-a comment she seemed to silently make two or three hundred times a day-it would be different. She'd find an engineer who took his job seriously. Leaving the two ad saleswomen with an admonition to keep their chortles to a mild roar, Maggie wandered back down the hall, focusing on Doug's closed office door. As far as she knew, he was alone, making it a prime time to confront her boss about withholding information and hindering her job. Two sharp raps on the door produced a muffled, "Just a sec," from her boss followed by the unmistakable sounds of candy and food wrappers shuffling. Doug was a closet junk food junkie. Obviously, she'd just interrupted his latest fix.

Maggie counted to ten-numbering each of her grievances with Doug-while waiting for him to open the door. When he finally pulled it open, Maggie brushed by him quickly and plopped in the straight chair in front of his desk, tossing one leg over her other knee. She waited impatiently for Doug to lower his tall, lanky body gingerly down into his over-stuffed, leather office chair before releasing the breath she hadn't remembered holding. Just as she opened her mouth to begin scolding, Doug held up a finger.

"Got big news for ya, Maggie," he smiled, winking a blue eye at her and running a hand over his thinning, sandy-colored hair.

"Don't tell me. I've already heard the important news. That worthless excuse of an engineer is on his way. And it's about darn time. I've only mentally started a list of things that he needs to attend to when he gets here, and it's already as long as my arm." That's it. Get right to the point. Take advantage of throwing him off kilter for a change by stealing his thunder. Maggie arched an eyebrow and smiled mischievously.

"That will all have to wait a little longer." Doug waved away her comment. "There are more serious fish to fry."

"Perhaps I'd be able to take you more seriously if you wiped that whipped cream off your face. Twinkies again?"

Sheepishly, Doug wiped the cream from his upper lip as a blush crept into his cheeks. "Crème rolls, actually."

"Well, I don't think there's any more serious fish than that dead tuna of a transmitter which right now is only being held together with spit and a prayer," Maggie continued, shifting uncomfortably in her chair. She was determined to keep the conversation focused on the problems at the station with its equipment. Doug-in his usual oily way-always seemed to wiggle the direction of the conversation out of her control entirely.

If the elusive Casey was going to actually make an appearance, she wanted to make absolutely sure he'd work on the real needs of the station-not on yet another of Doug's wild-haired schemes. Doug always seemed to have one lunatic project going that detracted from the proper operation of the station.

"A minor technical problem. And, I'm sure Casey will have a minute or two to look at it once he gets here. I'm sure those little repairs you made are working just fine," Doug said, easing back in his chair. "No, I'm talking about major changes here at the station. Something I've been keeping to myself until just the right moment. And now, that auspicious moment has arrived. Though, we really need some sound effects-like a drum roll maybe…Actually, maybe I should call a staff meeting to announce this to everyone at the same time…."

"Doug, just get on with it." Maggie squirmed again. "Just once I'd like to be in the loop on the changes you're planning. I mean, I'm supposed to be the program manager, but I continually find myself the last to know anything around here."

"Okay, picture this." Doug leaned forward in his chair, excitement twinkling in his eyes. "Right now we're limited…we're a five hundred watt AM station in the middle of nowhere."

"I wouldn't call this the middle of nowhere," Maggie interrupted defensively. Stanton was her hometown, a place she loved dearly.

"Okay, it's not the middle of nowhere, but you can its borders from here. Anyway, if we really want to put this station on the map, we have to reach higher and farther than any other station around…become a super-station of the Upper Great Plains. Well, we're not going to accomplish this by continuing on with just a rinky-dink AM service…no, we're going FM. Isn't that great? We expand the geographic coverage of the station, create a much larger base for ad sales. It will increase the value of this place like crazy."

"You're joking, right?" Maggie turned Doug's office calendar around and pointed to the date. "See, it's June first…not April first. Wrong time for an April Fool's prank, Dougie."

"This is no joke, Maggie," Doug said proudly. "I just got the notification from the Feds this morning that our license has been approved. But, we have a very narrow window of opportunity to get the FM side up and running. The next couple of months are going to be very intense. That's why Casey's on his way here. He's going to build the FM station."

"That makes no business sense at all." Maggie stomped both feet on the floor. "You have a 'narrow window' and yet you're calling what has to be the most unreliable engineer in the world to build the FM. What happens if he just gets a notion to move along before the construction's complete? What happens to all the money this station no doubt has invested in this-gone with the wind?"

"Casey would never do that."

"Oh no?" Maggie laughed. "From what I've heard-and observed for myself right here-just getting him to show up to do regular maintenance is like pulling hen's teeth. And then, when he is here, he's more likely off flirting with the women who work here instead of tending to business. At least, that's the way Becky and Sarah make it sound. Face it, Dougie…if you're actually serious about this business, then find a responsible engineer."

"Casey is responsible," Doug protested. "He gets the job done. He just works in his own fashion."

"Then, why do I have three tape decks stacked in my office that need repair? Then, why hasn't the AM transmitter been checked out in more than six months? Then, why are only two decks of the tri-cart machine working?" Maggie jumped to her feet. Couldn't he see that he was begging for trouble-the kind of trouble that could bankrupt the station and put the dozen people who worked there all on the unemployment line? Didn't he understand the vital need Stanton had for the radio station as a means of public information as well as entertainment? It was preposterous. "Doug, be reasonable. Don't put your trust in someone who can't be relied upon. You're asking for trouble. It would be a catastrophe to use someone so self-serving, so irresponsible. Believe me, I know. Just when you expect him to be there for you-he's disappeared."

"Are we still talking about Casey? Or have we suddenly shifted the subject to your ex-fiancé?" Doug asked. Anger boiled up inside of Maggie. Instantly, she regretted that in a small town like Stanton it was the rule of thumb that everyone knew everything about you-even those things in your past you'd rather just bury and forget forever.

"I thought we were talking about a major investment that could either make or break this station," Maggie growled, slapping a hand on Doug's desk. "And I hate to think that investment rests on the back of some combination Casanova-Peter Pan who thinks with a minor 'appendage' and is so myopic that he can't see beyond his own bulbous nose. Yes, I refer to Mr. Wonderful himself, Casey Ryan."

"I see my reputation precedes me once again," a voice called from the open doorway behind Maggie. She spun around so fast that her feet knotted together causing her to fall with a thud into her chair. The air rushed out of her lungs as she watched the tall, dark stranger amble into the room and collapse in a chair next to hers. He winked at her as she was caught in his deep emerald eyes bracketed by tiny mirth lines.

The girls had not exaggerated about his looks. Long, wavy black hair curled comfortably over the collar of his worn, blue chambray shirt. The open collar revealed the beginnings of a bronzed chest-muscles straining the fabric as it molded to well-defined pectorals. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled high on his thick powerful arms-deeply tanned and covered with the lightest matting of dark hair.

Maggie's eyes-on a tour of their own-swept down his torso to a narrow waist encircled with a worn leather belt and the largest silver belt buckle she'd ever seen. His faded blue jeans were tight-again defining the powerful muscles of his thighs and calves. The hems of his jeans legs swept comfortably over the tops of scuffed and stained Nike running shoes, the only apparel he wore that separated him from most of the would-be cowboys who lived in Stanton.

Forcing her eyes back to his face, she saw a self-satisfied smirk playing easily across his broad, firm mouth. The only imperfection she could note was a barely perceptible crook in his long, aquiline nose-obviously broken at some point in his past.

It was the smirk that brought her back to her senses. She suddenly longed to add another knot on that nose of his.

Maggie took a deep breath, then released it slowly. Indignantly, realizing he'd caught her ogling him, she straightened in her chair, grabbed the hem of her T-shirt and pulled it firmly down.

"You know my dad warned me I could knock the ladies off their feet without tryin', but this is the first time I've seen it for myself," Casey laughed, as he extended his hand. "My name's Casey. I don't believe we've met…though it seems you think you know me."

Maggie jerked her head, flipping her hair over her shoulder as she summoned up as much dignity as possible and accepted his hand. No way. There was no way she was going to let this creep know that her stomach was clenching nervously, that her mouth had suddenly gone dry, that she was willing her knees to stop knocking. It was ridiculous. She was a grown woman who'd just celebrated her twenty-fifth birthday-for the third time. She wasn't just some empty-headed, hormonal driven teen-ager given to drooling over hunks. Yet, when she clasped his long, firm fingers within her own to shake his hand, the electrical charge he sent through her went straight to her gonads which warmed her entire body perceptibly.

It shocked her that sensations and feelings long buried could regenerate themselves so quickly, so unexpectedly and so willingly. She shook her head again, realizing that she'd held onto his hand just a little bit longer than polite.

"Casey," Doug called, reaching across the desk with his own out-stretched hand. Thank heavens for small favors. Doug was here-God bless his stubborn, Twinkie-eating hide. She wasn't alone with Casey, caught in a maelstrom of confused sexual desires of which she hadn't known she was any longer capable of enjoying. Doug's presence was probably a good thing, Maggie decided, easing herself back into her chair and mentally willing her blood pressure to return to normal.

While the two men exchanged warm, friendly greetings, Maggie took a moment to take stock of herself. She breathed in deeply, then puffed the breath out. What had gotten into her? No doubt, she'd just heard so much-so glowingly-about Casey from Sarah and Becky and the others, she was predisposed to imagining he was an Adonis come to life.

Yeah, that was it. They were salespeople. They were used to selling things. No doubt, she'd just fallen unwarily into their sales pitch. Normally, she didn't fall for a sucker's line. This one just took her off-guard.

There was no way she was actually attracted to this guy. No way in hell. He wasn't her type. She'd decided long ago that she had no type-it was far safer that way.

Sure, she'd had her share of meaningless dates and encounters. Sure, she'd almost made the fatal mistake of ruining her life forever by marrying a guy just like this one. But, that was in the past.

About the time she'd celebrated her twenty-fifth birthday for the first time, she'd decided a far more sensible course was to dedicate herself to her career. That was far preferable to hooking her destiny to a shooting star that would end up dragging her through all sorts of hard times and bad feelings before burning itself-and her-out. Been there, done that…narrowly survived with her ego only bruised, but still somewhat intact. She wouldn't take that chance again-even if just glancing sideways at Casey's incredible profile caused her toes to tingle.

"So, you and Maggie here will be working together quite closely for the next few weeks. You're my team…my team that's going to put KVIC on the map," Doug announced loudly, tearing Maggie from her thoughts of the past and dropping her like a dead weight back into Doug's office.

"Huh…wha…Wait just a minute there, buster," Maggie interrupted, before starting to list things off on her fingers. "I'm program director. I'm responsible for the programming content, the proper scheduling of advertisements, the hiring and supervision of on-air staff, the selection of the play list for music and the maintenance of the AM equipment. Nowhere in my job description does it list playing nursemaid and gopher for this guy or for this hare-brained scheme to create a 'super-station.'"

"It's there," Doug laughed, winking at Casey. "Check the fine print. I believe the phrase is 'and other duties as assigned.' Welcome to your newly assigned duty, Maggie."

Even half-buried in his over-sized duffel bag, Casey could hear the muffled arguing coming from behind Doug's closed door. Poor Doug. He'd met his match when he'd started in on the dark-haired shrew. Even a few weeks working with her might as well be two decades in the deepest, darkest pit of hell.

As he continued to dig through his bag for the specifications Doug had sent him weeks earlier, his fingers encountered the oft-handled, zip-locked plastic bag that made even two months in hell worthwhile. He pulled it-and himself-out of the bag, smoothing his fingers over the carefully folded blueprints inside. This was his dream-his future. All he had to do was survive this job and the dream would come true-his own home, secure and final, an end to life in a twenty-eight foot camper on the road. Bricks would replace asphalt, two-lane highways. Thick, wooden beams would cement him in place. All he had to do was decide where to build the dream.

Lovingly, Casey placed the plastic bag back into the duffel bag and resumed his search for the specs. He'd just pulled the crumpled sheaf of papers from the bag and was smoothing them out on top of the table when he heard the shouting stop. Two seconds later, Doug's door nearly slammed off its hinges as Maggie burst into the outer office.

Casey froze and observed the woman, obviously attempting to control both her breathing and her temper. She wasn't homely or anything. Far from it. In a sort of midwestern way-plump and not too tall, she was good-looking. Not his style, but a handsome woman nonetheless. Her blue jeans were stylishly tailored, conforming to her feminine curves. The station logo T-shirt she wore hugged her pert, upright breasts-hinting at the lacy bra she wore beneath it as her deep breathing stretched the cotton of the shirt beyond its usual fit.

She stood with her small hands tightly fisted on her hips-ignoring his presence as she stared out of the window at the prairie. Her cheeks were rosy apples dappled with a light coating of freckles. Her nose was pert-perfectly centered above a small, cupid's bow mouth. But, it was her eyes that captured his attention-two icy blue orbs with twinkling diamonds.

Yeah, if he were even half-interested in a temporary diversion, she'd be a likely playmate. But, that would take his time and his focus. He'd already decided that this trip would be dedicated to building this station as fast as he could. There would be no time for lazy encounters-no matter how delightful they might be.

Casey turned his attention back to smoothing the papers, catching in his peripheral vision the sight of her running her fingers through her ebony curls. Her hand stilled as she stomped one small moccasined foot and cursed softly.

"Problem?" Casey asked, holding the papers against his abdomen as he continued to try to smooth them out.

"Nothing you can help with," she muttered, as she raised her other hand to her hair, fumbling through the tresses. It was obvious that she'd gotten her ring caught in her hair. He tossed the specs on the table and took a step toward her.

"Look, if you'll just hold still, I think I can help you," Casey offered, reaching out. Futilely, she batted his hands away with her one free hand while yelping in discomfort before finally standing still. Carefully, he parted her hair to reveal the small amethyst ring firmly entwined in several black strands of hair. Limber fingers quickly worked to pull one strand after another from the tines of the ring's setting.

"Casey!"

"Casey!"

Tearing his concentration away from his task, Casey glanced over his shoulder at Sarah and Becky running hard down the hallway toward him. Before he had a chance to react, both women launched themselves at him. Caught in a tangle of welcoming arms, Casey accidentally jerked Maggie's trapped hand roughly from her head-tearing out a sizable amount of her hair.

Maggie yelped in pain just as the force of Sarah and Becky's grasp on Casey propelled him into her. Maggie flung her arms about wildly, trying to maintain her balance. Casey reached for her, but it was too little, too late. She fell backwards into the huge wastebasket next to the copier machine, where it seemed she was stuck with her legs flailing vainly. One moccasin flipped off her foot and vaulted toward the ceiling.

As if in slow motion, Casey pushed Sarah and Becky's hands away as he tracked the moccasin's arcing trajectory up and then down. Too late he realized the moccasin's path intersected directly with his upturned face. The heel hit him soundly on the bridge of his nose.

Pain vanquished all other thoughts from his mind, as Casey grabbed his nose with both hands. He could feel the hot, sticky blood already beginning to course its way down his nostrils and over his fingers.

"Quick sit down," ordered Becky, thrusting a chair under him.

"I'll get some ice," offered Sarah, as she ran toward the break room.

"I'll get some towels," Becky volunteered, running toward the employee's restroom.

Through the haze of pain, Casey watched as Maggie finally succeeded in overturning the wastebasket. Slowly, she crawled out of a sea of discarded papers and clippings.

At that moment, Doug peeked out of his office. He looked down at Maggie, then over at Casey. A broad smile broke across his face.

"Oh good. I'm so glad to see you're playing together nicely," he commented, ducking back into his office just as the moccasin thrown by Maggie bounced off his closing door.

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