CHAPTER 1

	Josephine Webber stepped off the plane and looked around her in awe.  She still
could not believe that only a few short hours ago she had been sitting at her desk at the
Elmdale Times and now she was standing on the tarmac at a small airstrip in mid
Montana.
	“Joey, the boss wants to see you,” Vince, the young copywriter had said, and
given her flare for theatrics, she had cooked up all kinds of things she could be in trouble
for by the time she had reached Mr. Colville’s office.
	“You wanted to see me, Sir?” she had asked nervously, but her boss had smiled
brightly and indicated the chair across from his desk. 
	“Yes, yes, Miss Webber, please take a seat.”
	So she had , and it hadn’t been until she had been seated that she had noticed
the other person in the room.  Colville seemed to be extremely cheerful, while the other
person — a man who looked to be about thirty, dressed in a three piece suit — was
standing there looking at her with a straight face.
	“Miss Webber, this is Mr. Clark Nielson, he is in charge of publicity for Blake
Winters,”  Mr. Colville had said.  Joey had nodded politely towards Mr. Nielson.  He had
kept his hands clasped tightly together in front of him, so she hadn’t bothered to offer
him a handshake.  Instead, she had concentrated once again on her boss, and
wondered what Blake Winters had to do with her.
	She knew the name, of course.  Blake Winters was a very wealthy Montana
rancher who had been in the headlines most recently for his large and continued support
for the National Children’s Welfare Mission, a charity that helped provide food, shelter,
and clothing to underprivileged children, as well as providing sporting opportunities and
education.  It was a tremendously popular charity these days, thanks mainly to the
publicity provided by Mr. Blake Winters.
	She had turned an inquiring gaze toward her boss, who had cleared his throat
and continued to explain.  “Mr. Nielson is here to offer you an opportunity of a lifetime. It
will be difficult for you to refuse, Miss. Webber,”  Colville had said, and Joey had waited
patiently for the details.  It had been Clark Nielson who had actually spoken first.
	“For some time now there has been a lot of pressure on Mr. Winters to have his
biography written.  He has politely refused on several occasions, but recently he has
decided that a book might benefit the NCWM.  As is generally the case, Mr. Winters has
refused the opportunity to have his biography written by some of the most famous
biographers in the country.  He is in favour of boosting the career of an unknown
author.”
	The whole time Clark Nielson had recited this statement his face had maintained
its expressionless facade.  Joey had glanced toward her boss, still uncertain what any of
this had to do with her.
	“Mr. Nielson and his assistants have scoured the countryside, considering
reporters from many small and larger newspapers.  Consideration has been given to
those who write life features. Several candidates have been presented to Mr. Winters for
consideration.  It seems that Mr. Winters was impressed with your writing, Miss Webber,
and has agreed to continue with the biography project with you as the author.”
	“Me?!” Joey’s face had registered her shock, but still Clark Nielson’s face
showed no emotion at all.
	“Mr. Winters was particularly impressed with your article on the Eastside
Women’s & Children’s Shelter,”  Mr. Nielson had said, as if by way of offering some
explanation or insight into the reason she had been chosen.
	“But Mr. Colville, what about my job here?” she had asked.
	“All taken care of, ”Colville had said, with a bright smile, as he had leaned back in
his chair.  “Mr. Winters has graciously offered to pay the Times a retainer in exchange
for borrowing your services for the length of time it takes to complete the book.”
	“You mean, he is going to pay the paper to give me a leave of absence, to let me
go work for him? He is going to pay you to guarantee my job will be waiting for me when
I get back?”
	“That is essentially correct,” Mr. Nielson had confirmed with an abrupt nod.
	“And this would start when?”
	“Mr. Winters’ private plane will be leaving at nine o’clock in the morning.  If you
agree to the assignment you are to be on it.  If not, then we will be required to make a
detour to interview another candidate.”
	Joey had stared at him in disbelief.  Had he actually considered what they were
doing an interview? And by the look on Colvilles’s face, she guessed that she would be
borrowed at a very profitable price for the paper.  This thought was pretty much
confirmed only a moment later when her boss leaned forward and rested his clasped
hands on the desk in front of him.
	“Miss Webber, I hope you consider this very seriously.  The career benefits of a
book like this would be very profound, to say the least.  This could possibly jump start
your career, not to mention the publicity the Times will get over the matter.”
	Joey had sat awe-struck, trying to digest the fact that she had just been offered
the job of biographer to one of the most wealthy men in the mid west, and that if she
accepted, she would have to leave first thing in the morning.  As she sat there in silence,
Clark Nielson cleared his throat.
	“Might I add, Miss Webber, that Mr. Winters has expressed his preference in
obtaining you over the other candidates.”  Although this comment had been intended to
sway her in her decision, Joey noticed that for the first time since she had walked into
the room, Clark Nielson’s face actually registered an expression.  As he had spoken, his
eyes had surveyed her from head to toe, and Joey was certain from his face that he
might as well have added the words though for the life of me I can’t understand why.  It
seemed quite obvious to her that Mr. Clark Nielson did not like her much, if at all.
	In the end, Joey’s adventurous side had got the better of her, and now she stood
on Montana soil, looking around her still not believing the unexpected turn her life had
taken.
	“This way, Miss Webber,” Clark was saying, as he walked past her without
stopping.  Joey quickly fell into step behind him, trying to keep up, and was glad when
they finally stopped beside a sleek black SUV with its driver leaning against the side of it. 
The man was dressed in jeans and a dark green button shirt, and the customary string
tie, cowboy boots and hat.
	“Miss Webber, this is Harvey.  He will take you to the ranch.  Mr. Winters is
expecting you,” Clark said, and Joey stared at him.
	“You mean you are not coming with us?” she asked.
	“Absolutely not! ”Clark retorted , and Joey took note that this was the second
time emotion had slipped out from under his cold exterior.  Clark Nielson obviously did
not like the ranch either.
	Harvey, on the other hand, offered Joey a warm handshake and a bright smile. 
He looked like he was  probably in his mid fifties, and judging by the wrinkles at the
corner of his eyes, he was accustomed to smiling a lot.
	“Pleased to meet you, Ma’am. Harvey said, as he shook her hand firmly.  “As
soon as your luggage is stowed away, we’ll be on our way.” And, true to his word, they
were pulling away from the little air strip less than ten minutes later.
	“I wasn’t exactly expecting anyone quite as pretty as you, Miss Webber, “ Harvey
said, as they sped along the open highway.  “It’ll sure brighten up the pace back at the
ranch!”
	“Please, call me Joey,”  she insisted, and Harvey smile and nodded.
	“I hope you like the countryside, Miss Joey, because there’s plenty of it ‘round
the ranch,”  Harvey said as he glanced sideways at her.  Joey looked out the window
and noticed they were still driving and there were few, if any, buildings to be seen.
	“How far is it until we get there?” she asked, then blushed as she realised her
question sounded childish.  Harvey didn’t even seem to notice, however, and just drove
on with his friendly smile on his face.
	“About another forty-five minutes, Ma’am,” he announced, and Joey looked at
him wide eyed.
	“Oh!” she leaned closer to the window to get a better view of the scenery as they
passed it.  “And what town is the ranch near?”
	“Just Draper, Miss Joey.  That was it back there where the plane landed.”
	Draper, Montana.  A small town of approximately four thousand and yet it
boasted its own airstrip.  Joey was beginning to wonder just what she had gotten herself
into.  She didn’t have time to dwell on it, however, for Harvey was at no loss for words. 
Joey was thankful for that, for not only did it help the time pass quickly, his friendliness
put her at ease.  He was a complete contrast to Clark Nielson, who had passed the
entire trip in the airplane in almost complete silence.  By the time they had touched down
at Draper she had come to at least one conclusion.  She didn’t like Clark Nielson any
more than he liked her.
	But she liked Harvey.  She was glad that if she had to be sent off into the
wilderness to meet the wealthy Blake Winters, about whom she knew  absolutely
nothing at all, at least she was doing it with Harvey.  She felt completely at ease with
him, and she was thankful that she would at least be relaxed when she reached the
ranch.  Far better than the way she had felt after the plane ride in the company of Clark
Nielson!
	“I got the impression that Mr. Nielson doesn’t like the ranch?” she ventured, and
immediately she was rewarded by a hearty laugh from Harvey.
	“Clerk Nielson?  That boy doesn’t even like Draper, let alone the Silver Star  He’s
a city boy born and bred, straight from Billings. He doesn’t show his face on the ranch.”
	“Oh? I thought he worked for Mr. Winters?” Joey was confused, and even a little
panicked.  Had she been brought out into the middle of nowhere under false pretences?
	“He works for the company, not the ranch.  Winters Inc. is the umbrella company
that overseas Mr. Blake’s many business ventures, including the children’s charity.  The
offices are in Billings, though Mr. Blake runs as much of his business from the ranch as
he can,  He doesn’t like the city much.”
	“Oh!  I see,” Joey said, although she really didn’t think she did.  Perhaps she
should have been taking notes, she thought.  There seemed to be more to this man
Blake Winters than she had originally thought. “I thought Blake Winters was a major
sponsor of the children’s charity.  Are you telling me he IS the children’s charity?”
	Harvey’s big brown Stetson nodded up and down.  “That’s one way of putting it. 
He founded the charity quite a few years ago.”
	“Oh.” she said again, for lack of anything better to say. “And Mr. Winters
discusses business on the phone with Mr. Nielson then,” she went on , thinking she had
at least one thing figured out.
	Harvey laughed again. “Only when he absolutely has to.  Clark Nielson doesn’t
much like our Mr. Blake, and the feeling is mutual.”
	“Oh,” Joey said, a third time, and fell into silence.  
	“This is Silver Star property here on your right, Miss Joey,” Harvey said some
time later as they drove alongside a heavily wooded area.
	“So we’re almost there then,” she smiled, sitting up in her seat and looking
around.  But she could see nothing but trees as far as the horizon.
	“Almost,” Harvey said, but she could hear the chuckle in his voice. “The road to
the ranch house is another five minutes or so down the highway.”
	“Wow!” the word was out of her mouth before she even realised she was
speaking out loud, and Harvey smiled at her.  Silver Star was the biggest ranch in
Montana, but he had the feeling she still had no idea just how big that meant.
	At last Harvey turned the SUV off the highway onto a dirt road and Joey watched
as they drove along, waiting for the ranch house. It didn’t come.  The road wound its way
through the woods, then out into cleared land, and still there was no house.  They
crossed a narrow stream, then rose over a small knoll, and suddenly the buildings came
into view.
	Joey gasped at the sight.  She had been expecting a house, and a barn.  What
she saw resembled a small village!  The winding road led them towards a large arched
gateway, and as they neared, Joey could see that there was a large star mounted at
either end of the arch, and the words Silver Star arched across the road.  On the other
side of the arch there was a cluster of buildings.  Out-buildings, barns, and stables, bunk
houses, and a couple of small houses were all clustered around a large central
courtyard.  As the SUV pulled into that courtyard, the main house came into view.
	The house had a two storey section in the middle and single storey wings
sprawling out on either side, and a long veranda stretching the full length of the front of
the house.  There were trees and gardens all around it.  It looked like an oasis in the
middle of the courtyard.  Harvey drove along the curved drive that circled around a small
clump of trees in the centre of the courtyard and pulled up in front of the house.
	“Welcome to the Silver Star, Miss Joey,” Harvey said with a wide smile, as he
opened her door for her.  She stepped out of the vehicle and looked up at the building in
awe. She couldn’t help but remind herself that she was in a completely different world
from the one she had woken up in that morning.  She had never seen anything like this
place in her entire twenty-six years on the planet, and she could think of only one word
to describe it.
	“Awesome!”
	Harvey smiled at her and led her into the house and showed her into a sitting
room to the left of the great entry hall.  The room held a comfortable leather couch and
chairs and a bar at one end, and was lined with bookshelves.  Despite the fact that the
appearance was decidedly that of wealth and masculinity, the place looked well used,
and actually had a welcoming quality to it. She hoped the man who lived here would be
as welcoming as this room seemed.

	“Who the hell are you?!” boomed a deep voice behind her that made her jump. 
She swung around to find herself staring straight into the eyes of Blake Winters. Angry
eyes at that.
	She knew it was Winters, because during the long plane ride to Montana she had
looked through a few magazines that Clark Nielson had thrust in her lap as a preview to
the man she was about to find herself working for.  He had been featured in them all,
and his dark face had smiled larger than life off their covers.  The face that now glared at
her across the room was unmistakably his.  From People to GQ, they had all sung his
praises.
	The black hair and penetrating dark eyes were the same, but the expression was
anything but magazine cover material, Joey thought to herself. He stood in the doorway,
dressed in jeans and a plaid shirt, and the sheer size of him seemed menacing.  He
must be at least six foot three, she thought, which seemed a bit daunting in itself,
considering she barely managed to hit five-seven with three inch heels on.  But that
look!  In the magazines she had decided that he looked almost like a rugged, cowboy
version of JFK Jr., but the look on his face was conveying an entirely different
impression.  As she watched the muscles flex on the sides of his face as he clenched
his jaw, Joey mentally took a step backwards, swallowed hard, and tried to smile.  It
would take every bit of her college theatrical experience to get her through his one, she
thought!
	“Joey Webber,” she said, with her best stage smile.  Inside she was shaking like
a leaf, but she prided herself in being able to hide her true feelings.  In college she had
been in the theatre club and had had the lead in several plays.  Pretending emotions
she did not feel was a skill she had mastered back then, and she was thankful for it now,
for deep down inside her she certainly did not feel at all confident.
	Blake stared sown at the petite woman who stood in the middle of his sitting
room.  She was dressed in a sleek cream coloured blouse and slim fitting faux suede
skirt, and heels.  Hardly ranch attire, he thought. She was slender, and shapely, and
though she tried hard to look larger than life, Blake knew he could pick her up with one
hand and toss her over his shoulder with ease -- even soaking wet.  She looked like a
brisk Montana wind could blow her away for God sake!  
	But her face! She had long inky black hair that fell arrow straight, half way down
her back, and framed her face perfectly.  Her skin had a dark tinge to it, and her eyes --
those eyes that stared back at him trying to mask her fear -- were a deep chocolate
brown.  The whole image had something hauntingly ethnic about it.  As he clenched his
jaw one more time he saw her swallow, but she still did not move.
	“Like hell you are,” he  boomed.  He had reluctantly agreed to this outlandish
idea of a biography that Nielson kept hounding him about, but he had made it perfectly
clear what he wanted.  He wanted a man, and this pretty little thing standing in his sitting
room was anything but that! “Young lady, I don’t know who you are, but you are definitely
not Joey Webber.”
	Joey stared at him.  Suddenly everything became blindingly clear.  He had been
expecting a man!  She squared her shoulders and called on the most confident stance
she could muster, thrusting her hand out even further.
	“Josephine Webber, Mr. Winters,” she said pointedly.  “My name is Josephine.  I
have been called Joey since childhood, and no one calls me Josephine except my
grandmother. My professional name is Joey Webber -- at your service.”
	He glared at her.  A woman!  After all the trouble he had gone through to try to
avoid this damned biography in the first place; after all the stipulations he had laid down
to try to foil the plan, insisting it had to be done by an unknown writer who would not be
out to grand stand his own career from the book; after reading countless articles written
by countless reporters from all over the country and hand picking the one he thought
provided the best compromise -- he still found himself with a woman!
	“I wanted a man,” he stated flatly, narrowing his eyes as he looked down at her.
	She tilted her chin slightly.  “It is my understanding, Mr. Winters, that you wanted
Joey Webber.  I am Joey Webber.”
	If she had entertained any thoughts of impressing him with her confidence she
was wasting her time, she decided.  His face seemed to take on even more anger, and
she was sure she saw his hand clench momentarily into a fist as he kept it
conspicuously at his side.
	“That damned Nielson,” he muttered.  “He knew I wanted a man.  He must be
laughing his fool head off right now.”
	The mention of Clark Nielson conjured up many images of the stone faced man
she had spent most of her morning in the plane with.  Much as she hated to admit it, she
feared there was actually something she had in common with the emotionless Nielson --
she was certain that she didn’t’ like Blake Winters any more than Clark did.  And try as
she might, she  just could not manage to picture Clark Nielson laughing at anything.
	“I don’t think Clark Nielson ever laughed a day in his life,” she said dryly.  
Although the thought had been foremost in her mind she had never intended to speak it
out loud.  Quickly she glanced at the giant that stood before her and was shocked to see
what she was certain amounted to a grin trying to creep up one side of those lips he tried
desperately to keep in a straight line.
	“I’m inclined to agree with you, Miss Webber,” he stated, then the grin was gone
for good, and  he moved swiftly around her to stand looking out the window.  “The
forecast calls for bad weather moving in by the end of the day.  I am not going to send
my plane back up in the air today.  You can leave first thing in the morning. If the
weather co-operates, I will have Harvey drive you back to Draper then.”
	“Excuse me?” Joey spun around to look at him.
	He gave an impatient sigh but still did not turn away from the window to look at
her.  “You are not what I asked for, Miss Webber. I wanted a man.  I am accustomed to
getting what I ask for.”
	“And tossing aside what you don’t want.” she mumbled under her breath, but he
heard her and spun around, fixing a dark, menacing gaze on her. She thought he had
been about to yell at her, but he just clenched that jaw and said nothing, until eventually
he spoke in a very forced calm.
	“I will have Maria show you to your room.  Don’t bother to unpack, Harvey will
collect you first thing in the morning and take you to the plane.  Thank you, that will be
all.”  He moved toward the door with swift strides and after he passed her, Joey
muttered to herself.
	“Oh, thank you, Mr. Winters, for ruining my career.”
	He stopped, and Joey groaned to herself, clenching her eyes closed tight,
wishing she had kept her thoughts to herself as she had intended, instead of speaking
them out loud.  She listened for him to move, half expecting to be swung around by one
of his strong hands on her arm, but nothing happened.
	“Just what to you mean by that, Miss Webber?” he asked, and she could tell the
temper in his voice was being deliberately repressed.  “I have paid the newspaper you
work for a sizeable sum to retain your services until I no longer need them, which is now.
Your job will be waiting for you when you get back, your precious career should be
unscathed.”
	She grunted, and turned to face him this time spurred on by real emotions
instead of theatrical ones. “Oh yes, indeed.  I’m pretty certain Mr. Colville was counting
on this biography of yours to put the Elmdale Times on the map, maybe even win the
paper some notice and some literary awards.  Just imagine the kind of publicity the
paper would get.”  She looked up at him, and held out her hands, going through the
motions as if framing out a marquee.  “Elmdale Times, home of the reporter who wrote
the coveted Blake Winters biography.”
	She dropped her hands and shrugged. “I hardly think the reporter who failed to
write the coveted Blake Winters biography is going to impress any one in the business,
especially my boss, do you?”  She picked up her purse, which she had set down on a
small table when she had first entered the room, and headed toward the door. 
“Personally, I couldn’t give a damn for the publicity, but I am a single woman with no
body to pay my bills for me.  I need a job, and until your Mr. Clark Nielson waltzed into
my life, I had one.  Thank you for your time, Mr. Winters.  I wish I could say it had been
enjoyable, but it has not.”
	As she walked past him he did reach out and grab her arm this time, thought he
did not turn her to face him, merely stopped her in her tracks.
	“Are you telling me this Colville fellow would fire you?”
	“I wouldn’t put it past him.  Think of the embarrassment of having a reporter on
staff who had failed at such an important assignment as this!  Welcome to the real
world.  People have been fired at the Times for less,” she added.  She was glad he
couldn’t see her face, for her last statement wasn’t exactly true, but she had decided to
lay it on thick while she was at it.  The truth was, though, that Mr. Colville valued
success, and if she didn’t succeed in this she was pretty certain that eventually, if not
immediately, she would be looking for another job.
	Blake let go of her arm quickly, as if he had just realised he had been holding on
to her, and took a step back. After a long, painful silence, during which Joey’s heart beat
in her throat and she was afraid to look at him, he finally spoke again.  His voice was
controlled, in a slow, calculated tone.
	“You may move about the ranch as you wish.  You may observe as you wish, but
do not get in my way.  You may speak to any of the staff around here that you please
but you will interview me by appointment only.  And nothing you write will go anywhere
without my approval.”
	With that, he disappeared from the room, and Joey was left trying to figure out
what had just hit her.  He was the most arrogant, overbearing, self centred man she had
ever met, and she would have continued her list of adjectives if Maria hadn’t arrived with
a smile on her face to show her to her room.