LITMIR.BIZ

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wickedly funny, which was an irresistible combination. It meant danger up ahead, but only if he chose to go down that road. All he had to do was take a detour and avoid her.

      That took care of his conscious mind. With luck the warning would filter down to his subconscious and keep her out of his dreams. He was a tumbleweed and she had deep roots here in Montana. Smart money was on sticking to his plan: get back in shape and reenlist in the Marine Corps where he belonged.

      After an early morning run and workout, he went to the barn. Sunshine Farm made no demands on its guests but Brendan hated feeling useless and had gotten in the habit of helping feed the stock every morning. Today was no exception. He walked into the stable and grabbed a pitchfork to help spread hay for the horses.

      Luke walked over and jammed his own long-handled tool into the bale. “Morning.”

      “Back at you.”

      “Glad you decided to join us for dinner last night. Any regrets?”

      A few. None of which he’d talk about. “Best meal I’ve had in a long time.”

      “Did I lie about the macaroni and cheese?”

      “No.” Last night he’d been full and had still taken another helping. Eating for pleasure, which included the pleasure of rubbing elbows with the lady who’d made it.

      “So, what do you think of Fiona?”

      What did he think? Brendan was pretty sure that he was thinking about her more than he should be, and in ways that he didn’t want to. “I think she makes a mean macaroni.”

      “Seriously? That’s it?”

      “What else?” He sighed. “She seems nice.”

      “I think she’s interested in you,” Luke commented. “Looked to me like there was a sparkle in her eyes when she stole glances at you.”

      She was stealing glances at him? That didn’t suck. Then he shook his head. “You’re imagining things.”

      “Nope. Eva saw it, too.”

      “You talked to your wife about this?”

      “We talk about everything. She’s my best friend, and then some,” Luke said. “Besides, in Rust Creek Falls, talking and spreading news is how we roll.”

      He remembered Fiona saying something like that. “I think you’re both imagining things.”

      “I disagree.”

      “For the sake of argument, let’s say you’re right. The question is, why me? I’m boring.”

      “You’re new in town and single. And—don’t take this the wrong way—but you’re not a bad-looking guy.”

      “Stop. I’m blushing.” The corners of his mouth curved up.

      Luke laughed. “And Fiona is single, too.”

      “A woman who looks like her must have men lined up around the block.”

      “Not so much.”

      Brendan stuck his pitchfork in the bale of hay and leaned on it as he looked at the other man. “Why?”

      “You’ll have to ask her that.”

      No, he wouldn’t be asking her anything, because it was unlikely there would be an opportunity to do that. “None of my business.”

      “That could change.”

      He grabbed the tool again, then forked up some hay and spread it in a nearby stall. “I don’t think so.”

      “Time will tell.”

      After that the two of them worked in silence until all the horses were taken care of. Brendan knew from being on ranches in Texas that these animals had small stomachs relative to their size and needed to be fed two to three times a day to maintain their weight. He made it a point to be around when that happened.

      “Any other chores I can help with?” he asked.

      Luke didn’t miss a beat before saying, “You can give serious consideration to opening a repair business here at Sunshine Farm.”

      “You’re persistent. I’ll give you that.”

      His friend smiled. “There is something. In a couple of days my brother Jamie is rounding up cattle from their summer grazing spot in the hills and bringing them back for the winter. I’m giving him a hand but he could use another man. You game? He’d be appreciative.”

      “Glad to.”

      “Good. Thanks.”

      “Least I can do.” Brendan sincerely meant that. He was grateful to be here and wanted to give back. There was something about this sunshine-yellow barn that brightened the dark places inside him.

      Luke left shortly after that and Brendan went to his temporary shop in the barn. On the worktable was a food processor he’d started to take apart yesterday, before impulsively giving in to Luke’s dinner invitation. The lady who dropped it off was annoyed that it crapped out right after the warranty was up. She didn’t give the thing much of a chance at a second life and told him not to waste too much time trying. The thing was, after his morning workout he had nothing but time.

      He removed a couple of small screws to separate the outer casing from the motor in order to assess the problem. Just as he was pulling it apart, his cell phone rang. He tapped the answer icon.

      “Hello.”

      “Hey, it’s Fiona O’Reilly.”

      “Oh. Hi.” His voice sounded rusty but he resisted the urge to clear his throat.

      “Hi.” She hesitated a moment. “How are you?”

      “Fine,” he lied. Hearing her voice brought back visions of her red hair and the teasing smile that had tension curling in his gut. “You?”

      “Great.” Her voice sounded rusty, too, but she cleared her throat. “So, dinner last night was good.”

      “Yeah. I’m not used to a spread like that.”

      “If you stick around long enough, the calories will catch up to you.” She laughed ruefully. “I carry the proof of that on my hips.”

      In his opinion her hips were perfect, along with the rest of her. But saying so seemed out of line. “I added an extra couple of miles to my morning run.”

      “Speaking of running,” she said, “last night you disappeared after clearing the table and just before dessert. A less secure woman might think you were trying to get away from her.”

      He had been, but not for the reason she probably thought. She was equal parts temptation and complication. Marines believed retreat wasn’t an option but he’d made an exception for her. Because he’d also been trained in survival.

      “If I’d stayed any longer, I’d have had another helping of everything and that would’ve just been embarrassing.”

      “Yeah. Eva outdid herself. She does the baking at Daisy’s Donuts, but she’s an all-around outstanding cook, too.”

      “I found that out.” He waited for her to say something and when there was silence, he thought he’d lost her. “Fiona?”

      “I’m here.” She cleared her throat again. “I have something to ask you.”

      He frowned. Was it something he’d said at dinner? His remark about necessity being the mother he never had was one he wanted back in a big way. Bracing himself, he said, “Okay.”

      “I was wondering if you could bring your fix-anything reputation out for a spin to my place and look at the tractor here on the ranch.”

      Part of him wanted to say “no way,” but another part was ready to get there as fast as he could. Still, he was a civilian, a guest

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