She hadn’t seen him for almost a week and had a sneaking suspicion McCaid was keeping him busy and away from her. Franklin had told her he was due back tonight, so she’d prepared several double-crusted apple crisps from slices of dried apples she found in the storeroom. She dished the treat out to ranch hands who looked like boys about to taste their first candy stick. When there was a break in the line, Audrey glanced over and found McCaid leaning against one of the posts supporting the tent canopy. Hands in his pockets, his dark eyes on her, a lock of his straight brown hair curved down over his eyebrow—it was all Audrey could do not to suck in a sharp breath. “Would you care for some crisp, Mr. McCaid?” He looked from her to the baking dish and back again, a dark brow raised, his unspoken question hanging in the air. Audrey looked at the crisp and grinned. So he knew it was Hadley’s requested treat. “You don’t have a sweet tooth?” He didn’t answer right away. “Oh, I have a sweet tooth,”
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