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what fourteen-year-old boys think about that worries me.”

      She met his gaze. It was steady. Unwavering. She suspected he was always like that. Strong. Reliable. He’d clearly embraced the responsibility of his child, which said plenty about his measure. Ash admired that. Some people didn’t have the backbone for that kind of responsibility.

      Like Pete.

      A little voice reminded her that now was not the time to reminisce about Pete Shapiro and his many failings. She knew them as though they were carved within the very fiber of her soul.

      “Well, there are no fourteen-year-old boys here at the moment, so you can relax.”

      He sat back and the chair creaked. “You said you had three kids here right now?”

      She nodded. “Yes. Tahlia, she’s eight. Her brother, Micah, is nine. And Ricky is seventeen.”

      His brows came together. “Seventeen?”

      Ash smiled. “No need to worry, he’s not interested in girls. At all,” she added. “Which is part of the reason why he’s here. His parents can’t accept that he’s gay and it’s been a tough time for him.”

      He nodded. “I look forward to meeting them. And your son, of course.”

      Ash’s heart warmed. “Jaye is amazing. He’s my whole world.”

      “Can I ask about his father?”

      “You can ask,” she replied. “He’s not on the scene and hasn’t been for a long time. And I’d prefer the subject not to come up around my son.”

      “Sure,” he said easily. “Anything else off-limits? Old boyfriend? Current boyfriend?”

      “No boyfriend,” she responded.

      “Have the men in this town all got blindfolds on?”

      Even if it wasn’t meant that way, his words sounded pretty flirtatious, and they both knew it. Heat, bright and damning, rose up her neck and throat and smacked her directly in the cheeks like a cattle brand. She got to her feet and pushed in the chair. Coffee was over. She had chores to do. And blue eyes to escape from.

      “You should come for dinner tonight,” she said quietly. “That way you and Maisy can meet everyone. So, about six?”

      He stood and nodded, obviously aware he was being dismissed. “Thank you. See you later.”

      For a time after he left, Ash still smelled the traces of his cologne in the air. It was nice, sort of woodsy and masculine, and it did a whole bunch of things to her usual good sense. She shook the notion off and started packing the dishwasher and once the dishes were done, Ash picked up her phone and called her friend Nicola Radici. She wanted to vent and Nicola was exactly the ear she needed.

      “So, he’s hot and single?” Nicola asked after Ash told her friend about her new guests, including how unfairly attractive Cole was. “How awful for you.”

      Ash bit back a grin. “Yes. Inconveniently so.”

      “Are you looking for sympathy?” Nicola queried and laughed.

      Ash was about to respond when her son came through the door. Her heart flipped over at the sight of him. He was the light of her life. She ended the call, telling Nicola they would catch up soon, and then gave her son her full attention, briefly answering his questions about the new arrivals, and then she made him a snack. It gave her something to do and took her mind off things.

      And off a certain, six-foot-something, utterly gorgeous man she suspected was destined to invade her thoughts and dreams for the foreseeable future.

      * * *

      When Cole returned to the cabin Maisy was sitting on one of the sofas, feet curled lotus-style, head down as she looked at her cellphone.

      “Everything okay?” he asked when he spotted her.

      “The cell reception here sucks,” she complained and held her phone above her shoulder with a dramatic scowl.

      “It might be better outside,” he suggested. “We can go for a walk and look around if you like.”

      She shrugged and stood. “I’m gonna go to my room.”

      Cole watched her retreat down the hall and then heard a door slam. Every conversation was a battle. Every look one of defiance. Every interaction filled with rage. She was lost. Out of reach. And he had no idea how to connect with her.

      He dropped into the sofa, defeated, wondering if coming to the ranch had been a good idea. At the time Joel had suggested it, Cole felt as though he’d been given a lifeline. But now, he wasn’t so sure. It was just geography. Maisy was still Maisy. He was still the one person she seemed to hate above everyone else.

      She’s doesn’t have to love you. You just have to love her.

      Ash’s words scrambled around in his head. She was right. But he still didn’t know how he should feel about them. The moment he’d discovered he had a daughter, he’d made every effort to do the right thing. It had been a no-brainer to have the required DNA test and then go to court to get custody. As scared as he was about the idea of being a father, she was his daughter, his blood. His parents had been over the moon at the idea of being grandparents and his sisters had immediately embraced Maisy into the family. It was Maisy who dragged her feet. Of course he understood—her mother was dead and she felt alone. But she wasn’t, and that was the most damnable and frustrating thing. He wanted to be her father, if she would just meet him halfway.

      He stretched out and closed his eyes as fatigue settled into his muscles. It had been a long few days. Firstly, getting Maisy to agree to come to South Dakota had been challenging, especially when she insisted she was happy to go into the foster-care system. But he didn’t believe her. Sometimes, he was sure he saw glimpses of her actually settling into the life they had together, but her resistance was like a wall she felt she needed to keep up. One he wasn’t sure he could ever break down.

      Cole sighed and relaxed against the scratchy sofa. It would work out. He had to believe that. He dozed for a while and when he awoke it was after five o’clock. Maisy was in her room and he tapped on her door and told her they were going up to the main house at six for dinner. He headed to his own room to unpack, and then shower and change. When he returned to the living room Maisy was standing by the fireplace, earbuds in their usual position.

      “Ready to go?” he asked.

      She shrugged. “Do I have a choice, Cole?”

      The way she used his name made his nerves twitch. “No.”

      Her scowl increased. “Then I guess I’m ready.”

      They left the cabin and walked up to the house, side by side. Maisy’s arms were tightly crossed and he suspected he was in for one of her dark moods. He’d tried to get her to open up about her mom, but she’d always responded with some snappy retort about how he didn’t know anything about her and it didn’t matter since her mom was dead. And guilt always seemed to manifest itself in him whenever she talked about her mother. For Cole, Deanna was a dim memory. A pretty, young blonde woman he barely recalled. There’d been a lot of women back then. A lot of beds. A lot of meaningless sex and awkward morning-afters. That changed after the accident that almost killed him when he was twenty-seven. He’d spent three weeks in a coma, with a broken back, busted left arm, smashed-up kneecap and so many cuts and bruises he looked like he’d gone through a meat grinder. Four months in hospital, several surgeries and six months of rehab had taught him not to take anything for granted. The accident ended his racing career and drafted him into an early retirement from the track. Now, he managed the team and crew, including his cousin Lance, who was regularly one of the top three drivers in the country at the end of each season. He missed racing, but his cobbled-together bones weren’t able to withstand the endless workout that the NASCAR circuit demanded. And since he’d done everything he could to make sure he didn’t spend his life in a wheelchair, he wasn’t

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