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at the inn every morning if he wished and he was choosing not to.

      Fine, then. She’d play along. Because that was better than admitting the truth.

      “Oh. I see how it is.” Josie clucked her tongue. “You’re like some homeless dog. I made the mistake of feeding you and now you’ll just keep on coming back?”

      He dragged the first trough back to its corresponding enclosure. “Something like that.”

      Josie spun around and called over her shoulder, “Wipe your boots before coming into my house.”

      “Will do.”

      She went back inside and muttered to herself as she set the griddle on. She leaned her hip into the counter and braced her hand along her side. It was a blessing not to have to do all the chores this morning. Over the past week, her lower back had been hurting more often than not.

      When the griddle was warm enough for a pat of butter to sizzle its way across the surface, she mixed the liquids and soaked six large pieces of fluffy bread. French toast and bacon. She’d make him some food, explain to him that he couldn’t just show up here and take care of all her chores every day—even though she really did appreciate it—and then she’d ask him to leave again. No getting attached. Easy peasy.

      Heath entered as she was filling cups with orange juice.

      “All set.” She gestured to the plate.

      “Looks great. Smells even better.” He nodded. “Let me just wash my hands.”

      Once he was back at the table, he said grace for them again and they both dug into their food. This morning Josie was glad to be heading into her third trimester—no more morning sickness. Food was her friend again.

      “I didn’t get to mending the fence posts today. But I will by the end of this week.”

      Josie’s curiosity was piqued. She had to find out how he knew so much about ranching. “To be a Ranger, you’d have had to have worked for the state for a long time before then, right?”

      “Eight years in investigations with the state before you’re even allowed to fill out an application.”

      “So your entire adult life has been dedicated to police work?” He sounded a lot like Dale. Living...breathing the job.

      His head bobbed. “I served as a soldier right out of high school and then went straight into the force.”

      “Did you ever see action?”

      He looked down at his plate. “A tour in Iraq.”

      “Was it scary?”

      Heath shrugged. “To be honest, I didn’t have a lot going for me at the time and I wasn’t afraid to die. I know that sounds bad.” He moved his cup in a slow circle so the orange juice swirled around and around. “My father had passed away a few years before that, and my mom remarried pretty quickly. I’m afraid to say my stepdad and I butted heads from the get-go. More than anything, I joined the service to escape.”

      Heath wasn’t afraid to die? She wanted to ask him about that statement, but she didn’t really have a right to. Policemen and soldiers were alike in that way, weren’t they? They always knew that not coming home was a possibility. But that didn’t mean they weren’t afraid of the possibility. Did Heath enjoy an adrenaline rush? Or was it something else?

      Josie laced her fingers together and looked down at her palms. She didn’t need to know because she wasn’t getting involved with him. Not even as friends. He’d be around for a month and then be gone.

      Ask him something else. Anything else.

      “Did you grow up on a ranch?”

      “No, a quiet patch of suburbia.” He stretched out his legs under the table. “My dad was in law enforcement.”

      “Ah.” Josie nodded. A lot of families were like that... Being on the force seemed to run in the blood. She cradled her belly. Not you, little one! I won’t allow it. “Well, when did you learn all this stuff?” She motioned over her shoulder, in the direction of her barn. “How to take care of cows and pigs and fix fences? Last I checked they don’t teach that on the force or in the army.”

      “They sure don’t.” He chuckled and set his napkin on the table. “My uncle Blaine has a ranch not far from here, near Waco. I moved in with him when things went south with my stepdad. Blaine put me right to work.” Heath rubbed his hand over his smile. “He says there’s no such thing as hands that aren’t working on a ranch.”

      “Good for your uncle.”

      “I’m glad he did.” Heath steepled his fingers. “If he hadn’t done that, I wouldn’t be any help to you now.”

      “What are you doing in Haven anyway?” Josie asked between bites. “Besides bugging me at my ranch, that is. And the calves mystery.” She rolled her eyes. Not because she wasn’t still scared about the possibility of a stranger having been hiding in the barn with her, but because it still seemed silly that a Texas Ranger was working the case. “We both know you didn’t take a month off to investigate that.”

      Heath finished a piece of bacon. “Visiting Flint, mostly. And checking out the boys ranch, of course.”

      “Do you know someone who might need to go there?”

      “Having resources for troubled youth stored up here—” he tapped his forehead “—is good in my line of work.” He rested his forearms on the table. “How about you? Why do you volunteer there?”

      Josie shrugged. “Everyone in Haven pitches in.”

      “Did your husband?”

      Not at all. Dale always gave the place a wide berth. “Why do you care—”

      “I’m sorry.” He held up a hand. “Forget I asked.”

      Josie plowed on anyway. “I’m a member of the Lone Star Cowboy League. We support the boys ranch. I’m there because I want to be, but also because it’s my duty as a member of the League. My husband wasn’t a member. You have to be a rancher to be involved... Dale wasn’t one. I only just joined. After.” She looked down.

      “You didn’t have to answer,” Heath said. “My question was out of line. Job hazard. I’m used to asking whatever I want to know.” He smoothed his hand down his jaw. “How about this... Who’s your favorite kid on the ranch?”

      She shifted her cup around and around in her hands. “I don’t have a favorite.”

      “Of course you do.” His voice was gentle. “Who is it?”

      “I guess, if I absolutely had to pick... I’d probably say Diego. He’s had a hard road in life. He’s this bright little guy who always has a serious expression on his face. Like he’s working out a math puzzle at all times.” Josie pulled a face, imitating Diego. Heath answered with a soft grin.

      “His hair is almost black and his eyes are dark and soulful.” Josie found she was smiling but couldn’t help it. “He and I get along really well because he loves the cattle. He’s always the first one at the barn waiting for me and wants to pitch in on anything having to do with the calves. You could say I have a soft spot for him.”

      Heath leaned forward. “What’s Diego in for?”

      “In for?”

      “All the boys there, they’re troublemakers. They wouldn’t be sent to the ranch if they weren’t. What’s Diego’s issue? What’d he do wrong?”

      Josie bristled. There was nothing wrong with Diego. Nothing at all. Sometimes a child needed special attention. Sometimes they needed a change from normal life in order to work through something. But living at the ranch certainly wasn’t a punishment.

      “You still don’t think well of them. Even after our talk yesterday?”

      Heath’s

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