LITMIR.BIZ

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stomped into the kitchen, doffing his tan hat.

      Noah shivered. “I like thunderstorms, but only when Pa cuddles us.”

      “Hey, Ginger and I want in on this.” Sierra joined the lineup behind Heath, their tabby curled in her arms.

      “The more the merrier. Ready for the rain dance?” Heath glanced back and grinned at the sight of his niece’s and nephew’s expectant faces. What was so bad about pleasing people? A moment ago, they’d been scared, and he’d made them forget those fears.

      “Ready!” Emma and Noah shouted.

      “Let me grab something!” Travis scrounged in the utensil drawer and grabbed a cheese grater and a butter knife. He sawed the flat end of the blade against the jagged holes. “All set.”

      Heath sang Creedence Clearwater Revival’s song “Have You Ever Seen the Rain” as they marched around the long, dark pine kitchen table dominating the cozy space. Macaroni rattled inside the boxes Noah and Daryl shook while Emma banged her pan and Travis sawed on his grate. Sierra added a meow here and there. All in all, not half bad for a family band. One side of Heath’s mouth kicked up.

      “Hey, what’s this?” asked Pa as he entered the front door.

      “We’re making it rain!” shouted Noah, blasting across the open living space to throw his arms around his grandpa’s legs.

      “And thunder.” Emma clanged her spoon against the pan for emphasis.

      Pa hung his hat. “Well now. We sure could use it.”

      A wire tightened across Heath’s chest, constricting his breath. Time to tell Pa about his Nashville tryout before he bailed like Clint predicted. “There’s something important I need to talk to you about, Pa.”

      Pa nodded. “Let me just get a cup of joe first.” His normally broad shoulders drooped, and the grooves of his weathered face appeared deeper, his skin slightly gray.

      “What’s wrong, Pa?” Sierra set down Ginger and hurried to their father. “You don’t look good.”

      Pa ran a hand over his brush of silver hair, then jerked a thumb at the screen door. “Cole’s the one who’s not doing good.”

      Travis ducked outside.

      “What happened?” Heath measured out coffee grounds and dumped them in the coffee maker. Since his brother Cole’s ex, Katlynn Brennan, left after taping a segment for her cable show about the Loveland-Cade family feud, he’d been even more withdrawn than usual.

      “Hurt his arm.” Pa opened the door and ushered in a hunched Cole, his left arm in a sling, followed by Joy and Travis.

      Air whooshed out of Heath’s lungs as if someone had just drop-kicked him in the chest. If Cole was laid up, their make-or-break herding season went from daunting to near impossible.

      “Are you okay, Uncle Cole?” Emma tugged on his plaid shirt.

      Pain edged Cole’s smile, and dark unease filled Heath. “I’ve had better days, but your pretty smile sure makes things better. That and some Percocet.”

      The unease turned into balls of dread, settling heavily in Heath’s stomach. Cole never took pain medication. His arm must be seriously injured. Water overflowed the coffeepot Heath held beneath the faucet before he switched it off.

      Emma giggled. “You always say that, Uncle Cole.”

      He lightly tapped the tip of Emma’s nose. “That’s because it’s always true.”

      “Can I draw on your cast?” Noah tugged Cole’s sling. The dread exploded in Heath’s gut like buckshot, and his gaze dropped to the white plaster encasing Cole’s left arm. He’d broken it. “Josh has one and he let everyone sign it but me.”

      “He’s mean,” Emma griped. “Who wants to sign stupid-head’s stupid old cast anyway?”

      “Be nice,” Sierra chided, her raised hand hiding her smile.

      As Heath stared at Cole, his heart cracked open. What did this mean to his Nashville tryout? He poured the measured water into the back of the coffee maker and flicked on the machine.

      It was a selfish thought. Shameful...considering his brother was hurt. Heath breathed in the brewing coffee’s rich roasted aroma and strove to settle his racing pulse. He opened the fridge and paused before pulling out the milk, letting the cool air wash over his flushed face.

      “What happened?” Sierra retrieved mugs. When the gurgling coffee maker quieted, she filled them and added milk.

      Cole’s stance appeared casual, but he was coiled tight, hiding the pain. “Wasn’t paying close enough attention while fixing the bull pen fence. I got pinned when Diesel charged.”

      Heath winced. Few survived the force of a two-ton raging bull. With a grateful nod, Pa curled his fingers around the warm mug Heath passed him.

      Daryl whistled. “Could have been a heck of a lot worse.”

      Cole accepted Sierra’s coffee and dropped into a seat. “Pa pulled me out.”

      “Why were you in there, anyway?” Travis clasped his hands behind his back and frowned.

      “Thought Diesel was secured in his pen. Must not have latched the gate last night.” Cole dropped his head in his hand.

      “I’m just so thankful you’re both okay.” Joy reached across the table and managed to pat both Cole and their pa. Despite the late hour, their new stepmother looked stylish—and matching—as always in a blue polka-dot blouse tucked into a blue skirt that complemented her silver bob and hazel eyes.

      “How long do you have to wear the cast?” Heath’s temples were starting to ache. The scalding coffee burned his tongue, but he kept sipping anyway.

      “Six weeks.” Pa’s expression was pale and strained.

      “Which is why Joy and I are canceling our honeymoon.”

      Heath’s jaw hit the floor. Coffee splashed over the rim of his mug when he set it down. They needed every hand, but Pa couldn’t cancel his special trip with the woman he’d waited for all his life. They had to figure out a way to make this work. “Daryl and I can handle things, Pa.”

      Pa shook his head, lacing his fingers with Joy’s. “We need at least three full-timers. Maverick’s on his bull-riding tour. Travis used up his vacation last week for the wedding, Sierra’s running her practice, and we can’t afford to hire another hand.”

      A weight landed on Heath’s shoulders as he rubbed his fingers along his temples. He couldn’t leave his family ranch when they needed him. Couldn’t try for the record deal after all. The feeling that his dreams were slipping through his fingers cut deep into him, making misery of his bone and tissue.

      Heath clenched his jaw and dragged in a deep breath. The contract was a long shot anyway. No sense pining for it. Instead, he’d work around the clock to ensure things ran smoothly during their cattle drive while his father honeymooned. Staving off foreclosure mattered most. Heath’s life had never belonged to him anyway; it’d been stupid to think otherwise, even for one night.

      Cole lifted his head slowly. “Sorry, Pa.”

      “Stop me if I’m overstepping, but...” Joy’s mouth pursed. “Maybe one of my kids could lend a hand? We have plenty of help with my nephews visiting this summer. We could spare someone experienced.”

      Everyone sat perfectly still. No one spoke or even appeared to breathe. A Cade working Loveland ranch? Unthinkable...yet they had to consider it.

      “Forget it.” Joy pulled off her frameless glasses and cleared the fogged lens with a napkin. “I shouldn’t have interfered.”

      “You’re part of the family, darlin’.” Pa smiled tenderly. “It says Joy Loveland on our marriage certificate, don’t

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