The Riskiest Business Of All

For firefighter Caley Foster, every day is an adrenaline rush. Now that she’s back in Broken Bend, Louisiana, it’s clear that putting down roots may be just as tough as putting out fires. To her surprise, sweet Ava next door makes Caley’s new nanny job feel fulfilling. But Ava’s single father, rancher Brady McCullough, is a play-it-safe kind of fellow...not what Caley’s used to facing. He’s focused on protecting Ava—yet he can’t ignore Caley’s incredible effect on her. Or on his guarded heart. And with a leap of faith, they might both find life’s best adventure: love.

“Sort of dangerous up here, isn’t it?”

He didn’t look down, but focused on Caley’s eyes glittering in the moonlight. Talk about dangerous.

“The view is great.” She gestured to the sky. “It was one of the things I’d missed about country life.”

He felt himself being pulled in, like a moth to a lit candle. Against his will. Fascinated. Yet destined to get burned. “What else did you miss?”

“Peace and quiet. And space.”

“So why’d you leave?”

“Long story.”

Closed door on that topic. Probably for the best. He didn’t need to carry her secrets, even if some deep-rooted part of him wanted to.

“I better get back. Have a good night.”

“You, too. See you tomorrow.” Caley smiled her goodbye, but didn’t make a move to go inside. She remained staring at the stars.

Leaving Brady to wish, as he ambled away, that he could see what she did.

BETSY ST. AMANT

loves polka-dot shoes, chocolate and sharing the good news of God’s grace through her novels. She has a bachelor’s degree in Christian communications from Louisiana Baptist University and is actively pursuing a career in inspirational writing. Betsy resides in northern Louisiana with her husband and daughter and enjoys reading, kickboxing and spending quality time with her family.

The Rancher Next Door

Betsy St. Amant

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Therefore, since we are receiving a kingdom

which cannot be shaken, let us have grace, by which we may serve God acceptably with reverence and godly fear. For our God is a consuming fire.

—Hebrews 12:28,29

To my husband, Brandon, who is both a cowboy and a fireman. I get the best of both worlds! I love you.

In memory of Rodney Roach—

beloved rancher who fought the good fight

and is now saddlin’ up in heaven.

Acknowledgments

Special thanks to my agent, Tamela Hancock Murray, for her constant support and belief in me, and to my editor, Emily Rodmell, for always knowing just where to take my stories to make them better! Also a sincere thank-you to my mother for being the world’s greatest Nana and giving me so many free hours of babysitting so I can write and stay somewhat sane. Thanks to my fabulous critique partner Georgiana, for catching all the typos I miss and letting me know when my characters get bloody lips or whiplash (wink). And as always, thanks to my bestie Lori, who has brainstormed more than one novel with me while we sit on the kitchen floor and toss bouncy balls

to our kids from four states away.

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Dear Reader

Questions for Discussion

Chapter One

Caley Foster really wanted to put out a fire.

Or, for that matter, do anything more exciting than unload the rest of the boxes secured in the back of her beat-up red truck.

But that wasn’t going to happen today. With a resigned sigh, Caley hiked one booted foot on the tire, shimmied over the edge of the truck and landed with a thump in the bed crammed full of boxes and tubs. She’d have thought after living in nine different cities in the past three years that she’d be used to moving by now—but this time felt different. Maybe because this time, she had to stay awhile.

Too bad whoever said you can’t go home again hadn’t meant it literally.

Caley’s two-year-old black Labrador barked at her from the driveway as she began to shove yet another box across the rusted bed toward the open tailgate. “Scooter, like I told you before, it’s going to take me a while to find the dog biscuits.” She grunted as the box caught on an exposed bolt, and pushed again. Some days she almost regretted rescuing the hyper stray from a warehouse fire. But it was nice to take a friendly face along on her many travels, one who actually seemed to understand her.

Scooter barked again, and she wrinkled her nose at him. “Be patient, unless you want to do this work yourself.”

A sudden giggle floated on the breeze toward Caley and wrapped around her ears like a cozy set of muffs. She glanced up with surprise, midpush, just in time to see a young blonde girl perched on the fence dividing her meager property from the sprawling acres of the Double C Ranch next door—and just in time to send her cardboard box tumbling over the edge of the tailgate.

Caley winced. Hopefully that wasn’t the kitchenware, though it wouldn’t have been the first time after a move that she ended up at the discount store searching for dinner plates. She slid her petite frame off the tailgate and righted the box on the ground.

The girl timidly hopped off the fence and approached her. “Do you need help? Did anything break?” Her blue eyes widened with worry, and she twisted a long strand of hair anxiously around one finger as if she thought the accident was her fault.

Caley straightened and smiled at the girl, who looked about ten or eleven years old. The golden years. It was sweet of her to be concerned. “It’s all good. Thankfully, this was a box of pillows.” She rummaged through it one more time to be sure. “And apparently an apron. And a bird feeder.” She winked. “No wonder the box wasn’t labeled.”

The girl laughed again, and the sound warmed her heart. She’d missed being around kids. Her days spent nannying to earn a paycheck through college felt longer than just five years ago. It’d been nice to get an inside glimpse into families during that time—healthy, functioning families, that was.

A pinch of regret started in Caley’s stomach, and she shook her head to dislodge it. No use dredging up the past. She was back in Broken Bend, Louisiana, to enjoy the remaining years she had with her grandmother while Nonie occupied the nursing home, and Caley would do exactly that. No more regrets.

If she started thinking on those, she might never stop.

“Scooter, look.” Caley produced his sought-after box of canine treats from under a pillow and shook it. The eager dog pressed against her shins and barked, tail wagging hard enough to leave a bruise on her leg. She glanced at her new neighbor. “Want to feed him?”

The girl lit up with a bright smile, then hesitated, her grin fading as she looked over her shoulder toward the fence. “I probably shouldn’t.”

“Why not? He won’t bite, I promise.” She held out the box in one hand and offered a handshake with the other. “I’m Caley Foster. Looks like I’ll be your neighbor for a while. I’m just renting, though.” Why she felt the urge to clarify that to a kid, she wasn’t sure. Maybe for her own benefit. Temporary. Always temporary. Though this time, temporary held no definite boundaries. She’d be here as long as her grandma needed her—even if Broken Bend was the last place she had ever hoped to land again.

“I’m Ava. My dad owns the Double C Ranch.” Ava shook Caley’s hand, then pointed with one skinny arm behind her to the property on the other side of the fence.

“It’s beautiful.” Caley took in the rolling fields and the tree-studded landscape, the crimson- and gold-toned leaves offering a stark contrast to the bareness of Caley’s plain half-acre lot. It’d have been nice to rent a bigger place while she was here, but at least she’d have some scenery next door to borrow. Hopefully Scooter wouldn’t be too tempted to play in greener pastures. She nudged him with her foot. “You sure you don’t want to feed him?”

Scooter barked again at the shaking of the treat box, and warmth slowly took over the wary look in Ava’s eyes as he pressed his black nose against her hand. “Maybe just one treat wouldn’t hurt.”

“I’m positive he agrees with you.” Caley dug a bone-shaped cookie from the box and handed it to Ava, who offered it to Scooter. He gulped it down quickly, blinking afterward as if wondering where it’d gone.

“He’s so cute. I love animals.” Ava tentatively patted Scooter’s head. “I thought Labs were bigger?”

“Scooter must have been the runt of his family. Or maybe he’s not a purebred.” She shrugged with a smile. “Either way, he makes up for his smaller size with heart.”

Ava rubbed him a little harder, and Scooter immediately leaned against her jeans-clad shins and whined deep in his throat.

“He’s shameless.” She laughed and rustled the fur on his back. “And spoiled. He’ll stay like that forever if you keep petting him.”

“I wish I could.” Ava glanced toward her ranch, then back at Caley. “My dad has a bunch of animals, but doesn’t let me do much with them. Says it’s too dangerous.”

That sounded familiar. Growing up, everything under the sun was dangerous, according to Caley’s father. Animals. Carnival rides. Staying out past nine o’clock at night even after she had her license. Then again, maybe Ava’s father only owned high-strung Thoroughbreds or bulls. Most men had reasons to be protective.

Just not her dad.

“We have a bull, some cows, horses, a couple of foals and a few chickens.” Ava crouched down to pet Scooter more thoroughly. “But I’m not allowed to help feed them or anything. I wish I could. Ever since Mom died...” Her voice trailed off and she buried her face in Scooter’s floppy ears.

Empathy filled Caley’s heart. Apparently she and her young neighbor had a lot more in common than just a love for animals. Although Caley wasn’t sure if her mom still walked the earth or not. She briefly touched the girl’s hair, warm from the autumn sunshine spilling through the tree limbs. “I’m sorry to hear that. You’re welcome to play with Scooter anytime you’d like.”

“As long as it’s okay with her father, of course.” A deep baritone sounded from the other side of the fence, and Caley jerked, spilling the box of biscuits. Scooter barked and scurried to eat them as Ava’s face waxed pale.

“Hi, Dad.” Ava winced and stepped away from Scooter. “I was just about to say that.”

“You know you’re not supposed to cross this fence without permission.” Ava’s father, dressed in a plaid work shirt, faded jeans with dirt on the knees and equally muddy boots, strode across the short driveway toward them. A cowboy hat perched atop dark hair that peeked and curled from under the brim. He drew near and a smile broke the stubble on his tanned face, lightening the mood. Caley could almost tangibly feel Ava relax, as if the smile meant she wouldn’t be in trouble. “Brady McCollough. And you are?”

“Your new neighbor, Caley Foster.” She shook his hand, noticing the calluses on his palm, and quickly bent to scoop up the dog treats Scooter hadn’t yet devoured. Hopefully Brady wouldn’t see the color she knew burned her cheeks like a birthmark. She’d always blushed easily, but a man hadn’t had this effect on her at close range in quite a while. She didn’t remember him from her school days—and she was pretty sure she’d have remembered a face like that.

“Welcome to the neighborhood.” Brady hooked one thumb in his belt buckle and draped his other arm casually around Ava. “Though it’s not much of one. Your house and mine are the only ones for a few miles. The ranch next door to us has the next hundred acres, and his house is down the way.”

Caley bit back a smile. She might not have missed much about Broken Bend when she left ten years ago, but the Southern accents might make the list next time. She hadn’t heard such a lazy drawl in a while. “Good to know. I’m used to being alone, though.” Nothing new there, and no good reason to change it. Hard to pack up and move on a whim with a bunch of baggage to bring along. That’s why she always rented furnished houses or apartments.

“So where you from?”

Brady’s pointed question yanked her back to his steady gaze. She licked her dry lips, almost unable to remember where she’d lived last. “New Jersey.” Before that had been Chicago. No, Indianapolis.

Brady’s eyebrows hitched higher on his forehead. “That’s quite a ways. What brings you to Broken Bend?”

Brought her back. But no reason to dive into personal history best left buried. “My grandmother was put into the nursing home here. I was between jobs, so I thought I’d catch up with her.” Redeem the past, as it were. If that was even possible at this point. Brady definitely didn’t need to know she hadn’t spoken to Nonie in years, and the woman had been deemed a ward of the state because Caley, her only living relative, had been unreachable for months. If her former church pastor hadn’t seen the newspaper feature the New York Times had run on female firefighters from the South, Caley might still have no idea her grandmother needed her. The familiar wave of guilt pressed in thick and heavy like a scratchy wool blanket, and she cleared her throat.

Brady’s eyes softened. “I’m sorry to hear that. I know the manager over there, and they run a great facility, if that helps you feel better about it.”

The only thing that would make her feel better about the nursing home was if there wasn’t a need for it at all. She’d hoped to be able to move Nonie into the rental house with her, but after talking to the staff on the phone and letting them know she was coming, she quickly realized home health care wasn’t an option any of them could afford, nor could her grandmother’s physical condition thrive without constant care. She’d have to redeem herself with daily visits—it was the least she could do for the woman who helped raise her.

“Who’s your grandmother?”

She swallowed, determined not to let the wave of emotion overtake her. “Irene Foster.” Her dad’s mom, who’d never failed to try to explain her son to Caley, despite Caley’s lack of interest in excuses. Motherly love might overlook a lot, but it was harder from a daughter’s end of things. Not that it mattered much now. “I call her Nonie. She’s a Broken Bend native.”

“I recognize her name from the church prayer list. She’s been on the homebound sheet for a while.” Brady nodded, sympathy and something brighter—awareness?—lighting his eyes as his gaze held her own. “Well, neighbor, if you ever need help out here, just holler.” He gave Ava a squeeze before he released her, then gently caught her chin and directed her gaze to his. “Though next time, little miss, you better ask permission before climbing over that fence. You hear?”

“Yes, sir.” Ava ducked her head, her long hair draping over her flushed cheeks—but not before Caley caught the disappointment in her eyes. Disappointment over breaking a rule and being reprimanded? Or was it over not being able to visit and see Scooter freely?

Either way, she couldn’t bear her crestfallen expression. “Ava is welcome here anytime—with your permission, of course. Scooter loves playmates.” She caught her dog’s collar with one hand and nudged him in the behind with her foot. He immediately sat and panted, his tongue lolling out the side of his mouth and giving the impression of a doggy smile.

“We’ll see.” Brady shuffled one boot against the driveway, the sole scraping against the rocky gravel. “She has plenty to keep her busy. I’m sure you don’t need her underfoot over here.”

Caley’s stomach tightened. Was he trying to be polite and not impose? Or was this the brush-off? The attraction she’d felt toward Brady at first sight had definitely seemed reciprocated—however pointlessly. Still, why would he try to dodge her? Maybe he just wanted to make sure she really liked kids and Ava wasn’t intruding. Besides, just because she couldn’t embrace a relationship right now didn’t mean she couldn’t use a few friends—especially neighbors.

She straightened her shoulders and hoped her smile appeared more casual than it felt. “Ava would never be a problem here. In fact, I could use the company while I unpack.” She turned to include Ava in the conversation instead of continuing to talk about her as if she wasn’t there. “We might find some cookies somewhere in the truck. Want to help me look?”

“Yes! I mean—” Ava’s eager eyes darted from Caley to her father and then back again, as if unsure if it was okay to answer honestly. “Dad? Can I?”

Brady scooped his hat off his head with one hand and ran his fingers through his rumpled hair. “I don’t know, Ava.”

Caley took advantage of his temporary hesitation. “It’d really help me out. I hate unpacking. And the quicker I get it done, the quicker I can get out and find a job.” Especially now that her contact at the district fire station had proven slightly off in his assurance they would hire her. Turned out the guaranteed position wasn’t as guaranteed as she’d hoped, and an upcoming budget meeting would determine her fate. Putting in some volunteer hours definitely wouldn’t hurt the decision-making process, but she still had to find something to draw a paycheck in the interim.

Brady’s expression tightened, as if just remembering bad news. “It’s not that.” He squinted down at Ava, shading his eyes from the sun peering over the roof’s edge. “I came over here to find you because I just heard from Ms. Mary. Her sister broke her hip and she’s got to go to Arkansas next week to help her out.”

Concern furrowed the skin between Ava’s eyebrows. “Is she going to be okay?”

“I think so, it just means Mary’s going to be gone awhile. Several weeks, at best.” He glanced at Caley. “Mary is Ava’s nanny. She watches her after school and on the weekends while I’m out in the fields, and cooks and keeps up the house for me.” He released a sigh heavy with burden. Caley could recognize that particular sound a mile away—it was an echo of her own. “So I’m sort of in the lurch right now.”

Ava blinked up at her dad with childlike innocence. “But what does that have to do with me helping Caley?”

“Miss Caley,” Brady corrected. He shook his head, a reluctant grin taking dominance over his shadowed expression. “And I guess not much. I’m the one stressing over figuring this out, not you.”

“Then can I start right now?” Ava leaned down and picked up the box of pillows and bird feeders from the ground, as if in effort to prove her work ethic.

“It really is okay. I can’t eat those cookies alone, you know.” Caley grinned, hooking one finger through Scooter’s collar before he knocked over Ava and her box.

Brady pulled his cell phone from his back jeans pocket and checked the time. “Just until suppertime. You know Mary doesn’t like us to be late for dinner.” He replaced his phone and offered Caley a quick wink that not only surprised her, but automatically made her insides flutter with a swarm of line-dancing butterflies. “And I don’t like cold potatoes.”

Ha. So he wasn’t all uptight, after all—just stressed over figuring out a new routine. She’d been there. Odd how she already had so much in common with her neighbors. Maybe her coming back to Broken Bend was for more than Nonie, after all. She’d have to be careful, though. She didn’t do the commitment thing. But maybe she could somehow find a way to help this handsome cowboy and his adorable daughter and forget her own troubles for a while.

Temporarily, of course.

* * *

That new neighbor was going to be trouble.

Brady could feel it in his bones. Just like his achy right knee meant it was going to rain later that night, he just knew he was going to eventually regret living next door to Caley Foster. Even if she was the prettiest thing he’d seen in a long time.

Or maybe because she was the prettiest thing he’d seen in a long time.

Brady swung easily over the fence separating his property from Caley’s rental and strolled back to his horse, Nugget, grazing several yards away. Ava had taken to Caley quickly, and against his better judgment, so had he. And why wouldn’t they? With those bright green eyes and charmingly messy blond hair—not to mention her grit and ability to take care of herself—Caley Foster seemed like a fresh breeze wafting through Broken Bend.

He just didn’t have much room in his life for gusts of wind these days.

Still, there was something unique about a woman who moved cross-country by herself to take care of her grandmother in the nursing home—something that spoke of goodness and light. Something he didn’t get much of these days, not with him and Ava constantly beating their heads like a couple of battering rams.

Nothing was the same anymore, and the new normal they’d created as a family of two instead of three felt awkward even at the best of times. A knot tightened in Brady’s throat and he swallowed against it, though he knew the effort would be as wasted as trying to convince Ava she didn’t belong on a workhorse beside him. A horse had killed her mom, and though everyone in town deemed it an accident, Brady knew better. It was his fault. He shouldn’t have allowed Jessica on that high-strung beast in the first place, shouldn’t have allowed her to insist she could handle it. Even though four years had passed, he couldn’t erase the image of the stallion’s flat ears and wide eyes before he reared up and threw Jessica off. Some memories were impossible to forget.

And some he was determined never to repeat. The farther away Ava stayed from the dangerous animals he worked around daily, the better off she was. She belonged in the house, where it was safe, with Mary. If he could, he’d up and move them somewhere else entirely, but Brady couldn’t sell his livelihood. It ran through his blood. He had no way to make a living besides maintaining the land and animals that had been passed down to him from two generations before. The difference was, he knew what he was doing—a ten-year-old girl did not. He refused to allow anyone else he loved to be harmed.

Brady swung up on Nugget’s back and nudged the horse toward the back forty acres, eyes automatically scanning the area for smoke. He’d gotten a little paranoid after the local fire department had issued a widespread warning about seasonal brush fires. The early-autumn winds and leftover summer temps could cause an issue in moments. Bad enough for any rancher—doubly bad for him, specifically.

He shook off the memories that threatened to lodge, reminding himself he wasn’t a child anymore. He wasn’t trying to prove himself on a daredevil prank, and he certainly wasn’t trapped in a burning basement. He had plenty of issues to deal with now without being burdened by what wasn’t real any longer—like Mary leaving, for example. He must be preoccupied to have left his daughter with a near stranger, but everything about Caley rang sincere and honest. Maybe it’d be good for Ava to make friends with a woman.

Besides, he’d told his daughter “no” so many times lately, Brady didn’t think he could handle one more disappointed flash of her blue eyes.

He urged Nugget into a lope and rocked along with the familiar, comforting gait. He might be calloused from life, but he wasn’t totally hard-hearted.

Yet, anyway.

Chapter Two

“This box is marked bath towels, but it’s full of Christmas ornaments.” Ava held up a giant cupcake ornament. The pink-and-green icing sparkled under the light from the dusty ceiling fan overhead as it twirled from her finger.

Caley propped her favorite—and only—painting against the living room wall and strode across the matted carpet to peer inside Ava’s box. “You’re right. I must have mixed them up last time I packed. So I guess the box marked ornaments is full of—”

“Dish towels?” Ava supplied.

Caley grinned. “I was going to guess silverware.”

Ava snorted. “How often do you move, anyway?” She held a smaller box up for Caley to see how worn the bottom was. “Some of these boxes look...tired.”

That was putting it nicely. “Pretty often. I like to travel, keep things interesting.” More like keep from feeling too much, remembering. Regretting.

“That sounds like fun.” Ava nestled the cupcake ornament back into the tissue paper, and folded the box shut. “We hardly ever leave the ranch. I know Dad would never move anywhere.”

“What about vacations?” Caley found a box marked cleaning supplies and dug inside for a duster to clean the fan. She came up with a hammer instead, which she laid on the floor beside her beloved picture of a firefighter. She’d hang it later. “Do you and your dad ever take trips together?”

“We went to Dallas last year for a weekend, and he bought me some new shoes.” Ava closed the ornament box and set it gently against the far wall, out of the way.

Dallas? That was maybe four hours away. Not much of a vacation—especially considering Brady could get Ava shoes at Walmart one county over. No wonder Ava and her dad seemed so strained. Did he ever take time away from the ranch to just hang out with her?

But it really wasn’t Caley’s business—however much she wanted to make it so. Don’t get involved. You’re not going to be here long enough to make it count. Story of her life. But it was safer that way. The fewer people whose lives she impacted personally, the better off they were. She’d stick to saving lives via the anonymity of the fire department. The emotional connections she’d leave up to someone else.

“I’ve been asking for a trip to Disney World for my birthday next year, but Dad says he can’t leave the ranch for that long. Not even with Uncle Max here to help.” Ava tossed a red throw pillow onto the worn blue love seat and shrugged as though it didn’t matter.

But Caley knew from experience it did. Would things have been different between her and her own father growing up if he’d invested time in the little things after Mom left? Into the fun stuff that made memories? Instead, Caley grew up and had to go make her own memories alone. The first time she skydived, she’d been about ready to lose her breakfast inside the plane, but the thrill of the adventure to come pressed her forward. Why couldn’t her father have ever taken the opportunity to be spontaneous? To trust? To live?

He couldn’t do any of those things now, not from the Broken Bend graveyard twelve miles up the road. Regret rolled over in its familiar spot in her stomach. Her childhood might not have been ideal, but she still wished she had been given one more chance to redeem it.

Hopefully it wasn’t too late for her and Nonie.

“You must really like firefighters.” Ava lifted a decorative candle engraved with the Maltese cross from a box and wiggled it at Caley, shaking her from her negative track of thoughts. “First that giant picture, now this.”

“That’s because I am one.” She winked and set the candle on a shelf built above the TV stand.

“Awesome.” Ava stared at Caley with newfound respect.

She bit back a snort. Too bad adults weren’t as easily impressed with female firefighters.

Ava continued with her awestruck gaze. “Do you really put fires out and everything?”

“Yes, and help people who are hurt.” She took the lid off a flat storage bin and grinned at Ava. “Hey, I found the silverware.”

Ava scooted over to her and rummaged through the box. “And your alarm clock.” She giggled.

“Next move, I’ll be better organized.” Definitely couldn’t be worse. She hefted the box onto her hip and moved into the open kitchen to begin loading the drawers. “Why don’t you go plug the clock into the outlet by the mattress?” She didn’t own an actual bed; it was too complicated since she moved so often. A mattress on the floor with a pile of her grandmother’s old-fashioned quilts worked just as well, and the early memories those blankets stirred up kept her warmer than any down comforter could.

“You should definitely get more organized, but I hope you don’t move again soon.” Ava hesitated in the doorway separating Caley’s bedroom from the living room. She ducked her head a little, the expression in her eyes cautious, yet sincere. “You’re really fun.” She offered a slight smile before disappearing around the corner with the clock.

Caley’s hands stilled on the pile of silverware she’d been separating into the divider. She didn’t know how long she’d have to stay in Broken Bend, but it wouldn’t do anyone any good to get attached. Still, something about Ava drew her like a magnet—or maybe more like a mama duck to a duckling. She’d read enough self-help books over the years, though, to know that butting into Ava’s life in some pathetic effort to make up for her own childhood wouldn’t accomplish anything.

And as for Ava’s dad—well, Caley couldn’t think about that particular connection. Mama duckling was one thing, but the attraction she’d felt at first sight for Brady McCollough was certainly nothing to pursue. She’d do everyone a favor if she kept to herself and stayed as invisible as possible while she did her time in Broken Bend. Soon enough she’d be somewhere else, a distant memory of a fun neighbor Ava once had. Maybe she could leave some good behind her before she went.

But she was definitely going.

“Look what I found! Kitchen towels!” Ava rushed into the kitchen with a box labeled dishes in bold marker and grinned.

“Good job, detective. They can go in here.” Caley laughed as she pulled open a drawer, and Ava began filling it with the assortment of mismatched rags.

The younger girl paused and squinted, lips twitched to one side. “So do you think the box marked dishes will have bathroom towels in it?”

“You know what?” Caley shut the silverware drawer with her hip and wrapped one arm around Ava, joy filling her heart despite her earlier reservations. She squeezed Ava tight and grinned, determined not to let the inevitable spoil the moment. “I think you’re catching on.”

* * *

Brady knocked on Caley’s front door, then stepped back while he waited. Scooter pranced at his feet, shamelessly begging for a treat. Caley must have left him outside while they unpacked. From the holes the dog had already dug in the poor excuse for a flowerbed by the porch, that had probably been a good idea.

Loud laughter suddenly rang from inside the house, followed by a blast of country music. Brady frowned and knocked again. Mary would have supper ready any minute, and after the afternoon he had spent on the phone, scrambling to find a temporary babysitter, he was ready to sit, eat—and pray for mercy.

The door swung open, offering a rush of boot-scootin’ lyrics and Ava’s wide white grin. But her face morphed into panic as their eyes locked. “Dad! I was going to come home on time, I promise.” She looked at her wrist, but must have forgotten her watch, because her arm was bare. She rubbed the spot it should have rested and turned pleading eyes to him.

The anxiety in her expression chafed Brady’s heart, and he cleared his throat. He knew they hadn’t been exactly close lately, but was she actually afraid of making him mad over little things now? He would have never given himself a Dad of the Year award, but this realization stung. When had he gotten so bad?

“Don’t worry, you’re not in trouble.” He plucked a dust bunny off Ava’s shirtsleeve and wiped it on his jeans. “Looks like you’ve been working hard.”

“We both have. It was fun—like a treasure hunt.” Ava’s face lit back up as though he’d plugged it in, and jealousy sparked in his stomach. His daughter had more fun with a near stranger in two hours’ time than she did with him. Though he couldn’t remember the last time he’d spent two hours in a row doing something with her other than chores—or fussing.

Ava slipped outside, half shutting the door to block the music from within. “And Caley has this really funny way of labeling boxes. You wouldn’t believe—”

Brady interrupted. “Miss Caley. She’s an adult.”

“Yes, sir.” Ava’s shoulders slumped, light extinguished. “I won’t forget again. Sorry.”

“It’s not—” Brady rubbed his fingers down his cheeks, frustration rising inside. He wanted to tell her not to apologize, not to think of him as an ogre, but he couldn’t find the words. So he dropped his hands to his sides and shrugged. “Listen, I’m sure you’ve done a great job for Miss Caley. I just wanted to walk you home, since it’s getting dark now. Supper’s ready.”

Ava nodded, though she still didn’t light up like she had before. Was the thought of going home that disappointing? His throat tightened into a knot. “Let me just tell Caley—I mean, Miss Caley—that I’m leaving.”

Brady stepped over the threshold, following Ava inside the house, and turned the corner of the short entranceway in time to see Caley standing on a dining room chair, dusting the ceiling fan with a feathery contraption on a stick. She swung her hips in time to the music still blaring from what had to be the world’s oldest stereo, perched on the dining table by the kitchen door. Brady couldn’t help the grin sliding across his face, and he leaned against the door frame, content to watch. Maybe supper could wait for some things.

“Miss Caley?” Ava cupped her hands around her mouth and yelled louder. “Miss Caley!”

Caley turned around with a jerk, balancing herself by catching a fan blade in one hand. Her eyes landed on Brady, and she flushed. “Oh, hey.” She grinned, cheeks flaming as Ava ran to turn down the music. “Um, I found the duster.” She wielded it as proof, whatever that thing was. Good thing Mary took care of the cleaning around the ranch house, though Brady had certainly never seen her do that.

He ambled upright and crossed his arms over his chest. “I see you’ve both been busy.” And had probably accomplished a lot more than he had, running into dead end after dead end in the babysitting department. The teens that his church secretary recommended were too young for his comfort level, and the older ladies had too many stipulations and couldn’t conform to his needed schedule. Looked as though he’d be calling an agency next—but what were the odds that residents of a small town like Broken Bend signed up for those organized programs? Would a nanny be willing to commute to town almost every day?

Caley hopped down from the chair, breaking his stressful chain of thought, and Brady mentally kicked himself for not having offered his hand to help her. Everything about Caley seemed so confident and capable, though, that it took him off guard. His wife had definitely been the opposite.

“We’ve gotten a lot done, though it still looks like a wreck.” She grinned. “I’m used to it, though. It always takes making a bigger mess before you get it clean.”

No doubt about that. His life could be a prime example. But he wasn’t interested in sorting through the rubble. He’d done that for years without seeing results—positive ones, anyway. He sat through church these days for Ava’s sake, and Ava’s sake alone. She needed the foundation, but his had long since crumbled.

Brady cleared his throat. “Ava and I need to get home for supper. It’s going to be the last decent one we have for a while.” Oops. He hadn’t meant to let that slip. He must be more tired than he thought.

Ava’s eyes narrowed with suspicion—probably because she knew he couldn’t boil a pot of water to save anyone’s life. “No luck finding me a sitter?”

“Not yet.” He ran a hand over his jaw, the stubble whisking across his palm. “I’m going to have to—”

“What about Caley?” The sparkle in Ava’s eyes burst into a roaring flame of hope as she brought both hands up to her chin in a pleading position. “I mean, Miss Caley.”

“Me?” Caley pulled slightly away from Ava to look at her more directly, overly dramatized shock radiating from her eyes. “Babysit? You?”

Ava’s face fell. “Is it that bad of an idea?”

Yes. Brady opened his mouth to speak the truth, to tell Ava that there was no way Caley needed to come over to their house—his domain—and take care of them. Feed them. Clean up after them.

Invade his territory with her cinnamon scent and uncanny ability to stir feelings long dormant.

“I’m kidding!” Caley laughed and hip-bumped Ava, who bounced off her side, giggling. “I think it’s a perfect idea!” Then she sobered. “As long as your dad thinks so, of course.” As if on cue, both of them linked arms and turned doe eyes on him.

Perfect idea? More like the worst. He needed a kind older woman who was in agreement with his firm rules for Ava—not a hip young woman who acted more like Ava’s older sister than an adult. Ava didn’t need fun right now. She needed structure. Security.

Safety.

So did he. One look at the playful pout turning down Caley’s full lips, and safe was the last thing Brady felt. Something about Caley seemed way too dangerous. Not in an ax-murderer-next-door kind of way, but in a she’s-gonna-weasel-into-your-heart kind of way. He hadn’t thought much about romance since Jessica’s death—who had the time between the frequent guilt trips and running a ranch?—but Caley’s teasing eyes and trim figure coaxed to life embers he’d thought long dead. Being around her any more than necessary seemed incredibly risky.

And he didn’t take risks.

“It’s not just babysitting, Ava. It’s cooking and housekeeping, too.”

Caley shrugged. “I’m still in.”

He started shaking his head, mind racing through the implications of letting Caley that close, until Ava piped up once again. “Dad, who else is there to hire at the last minute? Miss Caley just said today that she needed to find a job soon. This works for everyone!”

It did, didn’t it? How did one argue against such youthful logic? Brady began to wish he’d just stayed outside with Scooter instead of being ganged up on by two insistent females. But maybe the idea was a decent one. He’d be outside most of the time, anyway, and Ava and Caley already had an evident bond. He’d just been thinking that it’d be good for Ava to have a womanly influence. Just because Caley wasn’t blue-haired and bifocaled didn’t mean she couldn’t be a positive role model. She was here to take care of her sick grandma, after all. And she was obviously capable.

“I do need the work, and with it being temporary, it seems ideal.” Caley’s curved eyebrows rose with prompting. “I have nanny experience from college, and I’m a licensed EMT.”

Well, he wouldn’t find better credentials than that through the church.

His gaze darted to his daughter, whose pleading expression froze the rest of his resistance. He couldn’t tell her no again. If spending time with Caley made Ava happy, he’d find a way to survive the next few weeks. How hard could it be? At least he’d get a hot meal without having to order pizza every night for the next month. And who knew—maybe he and Caley could be friends.

Just friends.

“Okay, you’ve convinced me.” Brady held up both hands to fend off Ava’s excited squeal as she jumped up and down. “Caley, you can start Monday. Ava is out from school the first half of next week for teacher conferences, so she can show you the ropes at the house. And to be fair, I’ll pay you what I was paying Mary.” He named the figure, and Caley nodded with approval.

“I’d have done it for less.” She winked, and Ava laughed out loud. Brady bit back a groan. He was in trouble, all right. Trouble with a capital C.

Yet as he caught the two blondes’ excited high five, he decided trouble couldn’t come in a cuter package.

Chapter Three

Caley really hoped she didn’t regret this.

She stared up at the beautiful, sprawling Double C ranch house and paused before knocking on the solid oak door. Birds chirped a welcoming chorus she wasn’t certain Brady would agree with. His hesitation at hiring her had caught her off guard. Was it just because she was a near stranger? If he was worried about that, though, he wouldn’t have let Ava help her unpack for a few hours. So if not safety or trust, then was it her ability? Maybe he doubted her capability in the house. Well, she’d show him. She might not be a gourmet chef, but she’d learned some good recipes over the years of her life on the go, and she obviously knew how to wield a duster.

She straightened her spine and knocked. For her first day, she’d whip up Nonie’s secret-ingredient chocolate chip cookies. That’d show him.

But why she felt such a strong urge to prove herself to Brady—impress him, even, if she was honest—she couldn’t say.

The door flew open, and Ava’s beaming smile swept away Caley’s insecurities. She wasn’t here for Brady, cookies or not, approval or not. She was here for this sweet little girl who needed quality care and a positive female influence in her life. As long as she remembered that, they’d be just fine. She’d get a paycheck while waiting to hear about a job from the fire department, and Ava would get plenty of girl time.

Brady would probably just get a headache, but that was his own fault.

“Come on in!” Ava practically squealed as she grabbed Caley’s arm and pulled her through the doorway. “I cleaned my room. Dad told me I had to. I think he didn’t want to scare you off before you even started.”

She giggled, and the enthusiasm in her expression made Caley almost want to go back and agree to babysit for free, after all. But she enjoyed electricity and food.

“Sounds good. Let’s go see it.” She squeezed Ava’s hand and followed the girl toward the straight staircase leading up to the second floor. On her way, she cast a quick glance over the nearly suffocatingly pristine living room. Full bookshelves surrounded the TV on both sides, the top shelves reserved for an obviously cherished collection of bronze horse and cowboy statues. The furniture, while not new by any means, seemed as if it’d been kept up neatly. Caley made a mental note—no snacking in the living room. A worn but clean rug covered the hardwood floor under a dark-chocolate-colored coffee table, yet hardly any art decorated the walls besides a lone school picture over a side table near the front door. Talk about a man’s domain.

A neat-freak man, at that.

Ava’s room was a different story. In fact, Caley would have loved to have seen it before she cleaned it. It would’ve been like viewing a train wreck. Trash spilled from the overflowing purple wastebasket beside a short desk probably meant for homework, but covered in the remnants of an abandoned art project. Novels and textbooks on horses and farm animals were stacked haphazardly beside—not on—the short purple bookshelf, and a herd of stuffed animals grazed at all angles atop the wrinkled, crooked, purple-and-green floral bedspread. Toys peeked from beneath the bed, and a jumble of puzzle pieces had been shoved under the desk. Every drawer on the dresser was partially open with clothes hanging out.

While the room definitely needed more attention, Caley couldn’t help but smile at the ways Ava and her father were so drastically different—and yet cringe at the myriad ways this would inevitably cause more problems between the two of them. Maybe she could somehow help Ava find a balance between being herself and pleasing her father.

“What do you think?” Ava spun a slow circle in the center of her room, eyes narrowed critically. “Dad said he’d hang those glow-in-the-dark stars above my bed soon, but he hasn’t yet.”

“I think that would be awesome.” Caley moved to perch on the edge of the bed and looked up. “They’d be perfect right there.” She pointed.

“I concur.” Brady’s deep voice broke the silence as he peered around the door frame at them, his dark hair falling across his forehead without the presence of his cowboy hat. Caley ignored the tingles in her stomach. “But I told Ava she had to keep her room clean enough to see the ceiling first.”

“Da-ad.” Ava’s tone stretched the word into several syllables, tinted with embarrassment. “It’s not that bad. See?” She gestured around the room, and Caley suddenly realized the closet door actually bulged a little.

“It’s been worse.” Brady crossed his arms across the front of his plaid work shirt, muscles cording beneath the rolled-up sleeves. “But it’s been better. I don’t want you to put this off on Miss Caley. She’s here to clean for us, but that’s just basic upkeep.” His penetrating gaze registered on her, drawing her in despite her initial reserve. “I don’t expect you to clean to this degree.” An unfamiliar twinkle slowly lit his expression. “I don’t think a landfill worker could be expected to clean to this degree.”

“I don’t mind.” The words slipped from her lips before she could edit them, and she told herself it was just because of her desire to see Ava and her dad get along—and not based on any desire to make him happy personally. Caley shook her head. What was wrong with her? She’d better curb this one-sided attraction now. Brady was essentially her boss—at least until the fire department let her know what was going on. She still needed to put in some volunteer hours—not to mention spend time with her grandmother, the sole reason she was back in this town in the first place. Somehow, she’d work it all in. She had to keep her eye on the greater goals—future employment with the fire department and quality time with her blood family.

Regardless of the immediate future, this arrangement with Brady—no, Ava—was most definitely temporary.

She forced a smile, hoping it didn’t look as fake as it felt, as she stood up from the bed. “It’ll be fine. Ava and I can make it into a project.” She’d need to borrow a wheelbarrow. And that big green tractor she saw parked outside earlier. But she liked taking risks. She cast another glance at the closet door. Big risks. “What do you say, Ava?”

Ava shrugged good-naturedly. “Whatever it takes to get my stars. Besides, it’d be much more fun to do it with you than with—” Her voice trailed off as she shot a glance at her father and looked quickly away, red tinting her cheeks.

Brady’s gaze darted to the ground, then back up, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. “I just came in to say hi and welcome.” He nodded, all hint of his former teasing gone from his eyes. “If you need anything, Ava can help you find it, or you can holler at me later. I’ll be in for dinner at six-thirty.”

He was gone from sight before he even finished speaking the words, yet the hurt in his tone lingered long after.

Caley waited, wondering if Ava would address the new elephant in the room, but the young girl simply pressed her lips together into a tight line and released a sigh through her nose. She clearly hadn’t meant to hurt her dad’s feelings, but as Caley well knew, sometimes honesty drove a sharp knife. Hopefully Brady wouldn’t take it personally. What ten-year-old girl wouldn’t rather clean her room with her new babysitter than with her rule-bearing father?

Somehow, though, the tension in the room suggested a lot more behind the scenes than that.

“Time to clean, huh?” Ava’s dismal voice suggested she’d rather go muck out the stalls in the barn—and judging from their past conversations, she’d literally prefer it. But her dad wouldn’t allow her to venture toward the animals. Did they agree on anything?

Caley gathered her inner resolve. She’d do whatever she could to make this fun for them both. She nodded, shoving her hands in her back pockets and feigning a grave expression. “I believe so. Why don’t you show me where the trash bags are?” She waited until Ava caught her eye, then she winked. “And I’ll find the chocolate.”

The smile now back on Ava’s face was more than worth the overwhelming task before them.

* * *

Brady couldn’t decide if he was more coated in dust or annoyance.

“I caught him.” His longtime best friend and only hired hand, Max Ringgold, looped Nugget’s reins around the hitching post outside the barn, then slapped at the dirt clinging to Brady’s shirtsleeves and back. “He came barreling through here like a Thoroughbred. I’d have been worried if I hadn’t seen you hobbling after him a minute later.” Max’s brow pinched in mock concern. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you to take shelter during a dust storm?”

“Funny.” Brady stepped away from the good-natured beating his friend doled out. “I’ll remember that next time.” As if he’d had a lot of choices out in the middle of the pasture, without a horse or even a saddle blanket to toss over his head. It figured that he left his bandanna in the house today of all days.

“Too bad you weren’t in the barn like I was when it blew through.” Max’s smile broadened. He was clearly finding way too much humor in his boss’s appearance.

Brady squinted off at the now calm pastures, then aimed a pointed look at his friend. “Too bad someone didn’t warn their boss.”

“What, you think I’m in the barn watching the Weather Channel?” Max adjusted the black hat on his head, still grinning. “That dust storm spiraled up in the fields from nowhere and left just as quickly.”

Max was right. It’d been unavoidable. All part of the unknowns of working a ranch—and another reason that just confirmed his instincts to keep Ava in the house, where it was safe. Away from unpredictable weather and brush fires and even more unpredictable animals—like Nugget, who had thrown him off at the first ruffle of wind. Blasted creature had gone running to the safety of the barn—leaving Brady to walk after him, gritting dirt between his teeth.

“I’m surprised you’re getting anything done out here anyway, with the new nanny inside.” Max winked. “I’m sure she’s capable, but may I say, she’s a far cry from Ms. Mary.”

A sprig of jealousy burst into full bloom. He knew his friend was just teasing, but for some reason, it rubbed him wrong. He forced a smile to look friendly, but his tone was all boss. “The new nanny is off-limits.” For both of them. For multiple reasons.

But especially for Max.

Max sidestepped as Nugget reached over to nibble the grass near his boots. “You know me, man. I’m just a sucker for a pretty face. I don’t act on it.”

Brady snorted. “You have before.” He ticked off names on his finger. “Brenda. Lucy. Michelle.”

Max shook his head, hands up in surrender. “They weren’t fellow employees.” He shaded his eyes against the sun and looked over at the main house, as if trying to get a glimpse inside. “She’s just temporary, though, right?”

Brady’s jaw tightened and Max laughed. “I’m kidding, boss. Sorry, I guess I wouldn’t be in a joking mood if I looked like you, either.” He gave Brady’s shoulder another hearty pat, and more dirt puffed from his sleeve. “Go get cleaned up. I’ll take care of the dust bunny here.” He gestured to Nugget.

“You might want to brush off his tack, too.” Brady strode toward the house, his tone leaving no question about who was in charge. He loved Max like a brother, but sometimes he wondered if hiring his best friend was a smart move. Too often they blurred the line between respect and fun, and Brady had a hard time sharpening it back into focus. He had to admit, though, if Max had been teasing about any other girl from church or town, he couldn’t have cared less. Something about Caley was different, and that made him as skittish as Nugget had been in the storm.

Hopefully things were going better in the house than they had been for him outside. The girls wouldn’t be expecting him until later this evening for supper, but he couldn’t keep doing his chores for the remainder of the afternoon until he brushed his teeth and changed shirts.

Brady strode into the house, the back door banging shut behind him harder than he meant to let it. Ava and Caley looked up with a start from the kitchen counter, where a mass of something that might be cookie dough clung to a greased sheet in tiny, uneven mounds. Ava had flour smeared on her cheeks, and a speckle of dough clung to the apron Caley had donned over her top and jeans. They both looked at him, then at their own mess, and laughed.

“I didn’t know it was flouring outside, too.” Caley clapped her hands together and a puff of white powder flurried into the air.

Brady couldn’t stay frustrated about his current condition, or even Max—not with the three of them looking the way they all did. He cracked a smile and brushed at his jeans. Dirt showered onto the floor. “Something like that.”

“Hey, Caley just swept that.” Ava’s indignant defense lost its merit when she was covered in flour. She handed her dad the broom leaning against the kitchen wall.

Caley snatched it back before Brady could figure out how to get to his room to change without tracking more dirt everywhere. “No worries. We should have waited until after the cookies were done, anyway. This was a bigger mess than I thought.”

“Those are cookies?” Brady raised an eyebrow. Who’d have thought? His stomach rumbled with protest. It might turn out that Mary and Caley were opposites in more ways than he’d expected.

Caley snorted. “Supposed to be. We’ll see when they get out of the oven. It’s a recipe my grandmother made for me my entire childhood, but...I think I forgot something.” She poked at one of the mounds with a spoon—it didn’t budge. She wrinkled her nose. “Or maybe we just should start over.”

“I think I’ll take a dirt storm over a flour storm any day.” Brady shook his head with a smile. Funny how just being around Caley brightened his mood. He and Max were going to be in more trouble than he originally thought. “I’m going to go change.” And hopefully remind himself while he was gone of all the reasons why he couldn’t think of the woman slinging dough in his kitchen as anything other than a temporary employee.

“You don’t want to stay and help?” Ava’s hopeful expression cast a shadow on his brightening mood. Brady sighed. Here he went, about to disappoint his daughter once again. He hated keeping score, but he couldn’t help but feel as if the board would read Brady: 0, Caley: 2. Or was she up to 3 by now? Either way, he was far behind in the game of good graces. He still smarted from Ava’s comment in her room earlier that morning.

But the ranch wouldn’t run itself, and Ava should be old enough to understand that by now. If he stayed in the kitchen and made cookies all afternoon, who would feed the animals? Who would fix the broken barbed-wire fence in the south pasture? Who would clean the rest of the stalls he’d started that morning and check on the pregnant mare? Not to mention the stack of invoices he needed to mail for the hay he’d sold last week. Max helped out, but the ranch was more than enough work for two men.

In fact, if he thought about it long enough, he’d go insane from the pressure. He was stuck and couldn’t please everyone. He had to support them, and as much as he’d like to play with Ava all day, he just couldn’t. That’s what Mary was for—and now, Caley. One day, he’d get caught up and be more available. One day.

Brady stepped gingerly toward the kitchen door leading into the living room, aware of his dusty tracks. “I’m sorry, honey. I’ve got a lot more to do outside. That storm just caught me off guard, is all. Need to change and get back to it.” He tried to overlook Ava’s crestfallen expression and Caley’s pursed lips, and lifted his tone in an effort to lighten the suddenly somber mood. “I’ll see you for supper, though.”

They ignored him, except for Ava’s bottom lip poking farther out.

He attempted a joke. “Hopefully supper turns out better than those cookies.”

Two sets of eyes simultaneously flicked his direction and narrowed. Not the time for humor, obviously.

“If you can’t stay in here, then can I come help you outside?” Ava’s timid voice held zero hope, as if she already knew the answer. And she did.

Brady shook his head slowly. “You know the rules. Your chores are in the house, not with the animals. It’s too dangerous.”

“But, Dad—” Ava broke off as Caley nudged her in the side. She sighed. “Yes, sir.”

He was proud of her for remembering her manners, but couldn’t find the words to say so. It wouldn’t matter, anyway. That wasn’t what she wanted to hear. Brady slipped upstairs without another comment, wondering how on earth he’d even be able to eat dinner that night with the solid rock of guilt taking up his entire stomach.

He wrenched his dirty clothes into the hamper and changed into a fresh shirt, then brushed his teeth with more aggression than necessary. He wasn’t sure what was more unsettlingly, the fact that he couldn’t seem to do anything right in his daughter’s eyes...

Or how much he’d enjoyed seeing Caley in his kitchen after a long day of work.

Chapter Four

She’d missed the smell of the bay.

Caley breathed in the familiar scent of motor oil, exhaust and lemon cleaner. It must have been a bay day on the chores schedule, by the looks of the squeaky-clean concrete beneath her boots. She didn’t particularly miss pushing a mop over the floor or scrubbing down trucks, but she missed the activity. The excitement. The adrenaline rush that flowed through her veins with the knowledge that any minute, the alarm could chime and they’d be off to save lives.

Hopefully the job at the Broken Bend Fire Department would eventually work out. Because as fun as it’d been babysitting Ava that day, Caley’s heart remained in the action of firefighting. Saving lives. Making a difference.

Making atonement.

Muffled voices and a sharp tapping sounded from the far corner, where a group of blue-uniformed firemen stocked the back of the ambulance. She hated to interrupt if they were counting supplies, but she needed to find Captain O’Donnell to ask about her volunteer gear. If she was going to start doing ride-outs and earning her way into the station, she needed to get set up ASAP.

Caley lifted one hand in a wave to the older man who broke from the group and strode toward her with a curious expression. There was the captain now, judging by the embroidery on his blue polo. “Good evenin’. Can we help you, ma’am?”

The other firemen glanced up with interest, but went back to their stocking after a firm glance from the captain. She held out her hand. “I’m Caley Foster. I’ve come for my volunteer pager and gear.”

The gray-bearded man offered a friendly smile and a firm handshake. “That’s right. Chief Talbot said you’d be by this week. Come on in.” He led the way past the recently washed fire trucks and held the station door open for her. “Nice to meet you.”

Caley smiled her thanks, taking an appreciative note of his sincerity. As a female firefighter, she’d been treated in numerous ways over the years—dealing with everything from jealousy to discrimination to sexual harassment. The captain’s respectful handshake and the way he met her eyes when he talked showed he considered her a capable equal, while his opening the door for her proved he was a gentleman at heart. Exactly the kind of captain she’d like to work for.

Captain picked up a pager from the cluttered desk to the right of the kitchen area, pressed a button and then nodded with satisfaction at the responding beep. “You’re all set.” He handed it to her, along with a BBFD T-shirt and a sheaf of paperwork. “Just sign these forms and we’ll get them filed. I’m sure you’ve seen them before, based on Chief’s report. This ain’t your first rodeo, is it?” He winked beneath silver eyebrows, thicker than his beard.

She liked Captain. “You could say that.” Caley grabbed a pen from the coffee mug on the corner, took a seat at the table and began scribbling her signature in the designated areas. “What about bunker gear?”

“We have extra sets up here that stay in the bay lockers. You’re welcome to those whenever you come meet the trucks.” Captain shrugged, leaning forward to brace his arms on the chair across from her. “Or just swing by and grab them before you meet us in the field. Either way. We’ve had issues in the past about volunteers not returning their gear after quitting, so Chief decided that volunteer gear should stay on-site.”

“Understandable.” Caley scribbled her name on the last document and stacked them neatly before handing them over to Captain. “I’m renting a place only about fifteen miles from here, so I can make it pretty quick in an emergency.”

Captain glanced at the address that had already been typed into her paperwork. “That’s next door to the Double C ranch, isn’t it? McCollough’s place.”

“You know him?”

“Everyone knows McCollough, after the tragedy he went through few years back. He’s a good ol’ boy.” Captain slid Caley’s paperwork inside a green folder. “I see him at church from time to time. He and that kid of his—they’ve had some tough breaks.”

“I’m actually babysitting his daughter for now. They had an emergency come up with their nanny—temporarily, of course.” Caley held up both hands in an effort to clarify and grinned. “I’m sure you know I’m hoping to get hired on here.”

“We’d love to have you. It’s rare getting a volunteer with as much experience as you’ve had.” Captain shrugged, shoving his hands into his pants pockets. “Not my call, but you’d have my vote if it was.”

“I appreciate it.” Caley hesitated, grateful for the confidence Captain had in her, but unsure how to far to push. Still, something he said lingered on the fringes of her brain and demanded details. “You mentioned how Brady and Ava have been through a lot—what exactly happened with Ava’s mom?” She held her breath, hoping a few pieces of the puzzle that was all things Brady McCollough would finally slide into place. She hated to seem nosy, but no one was volunteering the information, and if she wanted to make a difference—for Ava’s sake, of course—then it could only help her to know what they’d overcome.

Or rather, what they were still attempting to overcome.

“It was an accident.” Captain looked toward the bay with a heavy sigh, and Caley suddenly felt as if she was being dismissed. “But that’s a story for McCollough to tell.”

“I see. Well, thank you. I won’t keep you.” She quickly stood and held out her hand for a goodbye shake, mentally kicking herself for coming across as a gossiping, meddling newcomer. She might be a born-and-bred native of Broken Bend, but she’d been gone so long she’d likely crossed the line from family to foreigner long ago. “Thanks for getting me set up. You’ll definitely be seeing me around.” First time that pager buzzed, she’d be on it.

That is, if she wasn’t on babysitting duty. Caley rolled in her lower lip. Balancing her time between making volunteer runs, visiting Nonie and watching Ava might not be as easy as she’d thought.

“I hope so, Ms. Foster.” Captain motioned her to walk out the bay door ahead of him. “And a word to the wise—if you truly want to get hired on here, don’t just show up for the fun stuff.”

Meaning fires. “Got it. Thanks for the tip. I’ll be well-rounded, I promise.” She crossed the bay toward her car, T-shirt tucked under her arm.

“Ms. Foster?”

She turned at the sound of Captain’s deep voice and arched an eyebrow, waiting for more inside advice. “Yes, sir?”

“If I were you, I’d not press McCollough. It’s not a story he likes to tell.”

* * *

Brady adjusted the pillow under his head, shifting onto his side as he waited for sleep to come. But for the first time in months, he found himself wide-awake at the end of the day. It certainly wasn’t due to lack of hard work—after the dust storm, he’d gone right back to it, despite the sullen glances Ava shot his way. No, he had a feeling his inability to sleep had a lot more to do with the feisty little woman who’d botched not only two but three dozen cookies. Whatever secret recipe her Nonie used to make was apparently destined to remain a secret.

Brady flipped onto his back and sighed, unable to erase the mental image of Caley with flour smeared on her cheeks and dotting her forearms, winking as she managed to accomplish the one thing he never could with Ava these days—making her smile.

And she’d be back in his kitchen doing it all again the next day.

The realization brought equal parts joy and panic. Dismissing the idea of sleep, Brady threw on a pair of Wranglers and a T-shirt, slid into his boots and quietly slipped outside. Maybe fresh air and a quick walk would clear his head, remind him of all the reasons why even though it felt right having Caley in his home, it was wrong.

He’d failed at being a husband once and was making pretty good time on messing up fatherhood, too. He didn’t dare bring another woman into his life—even if Caley was sweet. Wholesome. Sincere. She baked cookies and took care of her grandmother in the nursing home. She was the very picture of a rancher’s wife. Good with his daughter. Smiled a lot.

Would probably look cute in boots.

The night breeze stirred Brady’s hair, and he wished he’d brought his hat. He realized with a jolt that he’d headed toward Caley’s property, and now a soft glow from her back window lit the night like a beacon. He slowed his pace, unsure why he’d come that way and berating his subconscious for being a traitor. He started to turn around, not trusting himself to walk any closer. Something about Caley called to him, and if he ever answered, it’d be catastrophic for them all.

“I found the Little Dipper.”

Brady nearly stumbled over a gopher hole as Caley’s gentle voice broke the silence of the night. “What? Where?” He looked around to find the person attached to the voice but saw no one. Had he officially lost it? He knew hiring Caley had been a bad idea. Now he was conjuring her voice out of the prairie.

A muffled giggle sounded from above. “Up here.”

He drew his gaze to the sound. The roof. She waved from her reclined position on a blanket, sprawled out directly under the stars. A wiggling black blob he could only assume was Scooter lay nestled on the quilt by her side. “Caley? What are you doing up there?” He felt the urge to cup his hand over his eyes as he looked up, despite the sun not being out. How on earth did she get that dog up there?

She rose to a sitting position, hair tousled, making her look all the cuter. “Come on up. The view is great.”

Brady shook his head. She must be crazy. Ava was home in bed, and he needed to get back to the house. Not to mention that he didn’t love heights in the first place, and that ladder looked as if it was possibly older than the rental house.

Then she reached over and patted the shingles beside her in invitation, and he’d scaled three rungs before he even realized he was moving.

Drawing a breath, Brady settled a respectful distance away on the other side of the blanket and pulled his knees up to his chest for balance. “Sort of dangerous up here, isn’t it?” He didn’t look down, but focused on Caley’s eyes glittering in the moonlight. Talk about dangerous.

She absently ran a hand over Scooter’s back, smoothing his fur. “You sound like my dad.”

Definitely not his intention. Brady cleared his throat, unsure how to backpedal. “I just didn’t expect to see you up here, that’s all.” Women he knew didn’t sit on roofs. Then again, he didn’t know a whole lot of women anymore. Didn’t seem fair to compare everyone to Jessica, but that’s all he had to go on. Not for the first time, he wished he’d let his play-it-safe wife stay that way. Instead, he’d been so taken aback by her request to ride that he’d eagerly agreed, despite knowing better. She’d finally shown some effort toward his interests—toward their marriage—and he wasn’t about to curb it.

And look what happened.

Brady scooted a little farther away from the edge of the roof, wishing Caley would do the same. Instead, she tilted her head back as she studied the sky, her short blond hair skimming down her back.

“The view is great.” She gestured to the heavens. “It was one of the things I’d missed about country life.”

He felt himself being pulled in, like a moth to a lit candle. Against his will. Fascinated. Yet destined to get burned. “What else did you miss?”

She pulled in her lower lip, and took her time answering. “Peace and quiet. And space. Living in big cities is exciting, but it’s constant noise, constant action. Like there’s always something else you should be doing.” She lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “It gets exhausting.”

“I can only imagine.” He’d only ever known ranch life, and that was fine with him. Cities had too much concrete. A man needed earth under his boots, not man-made rock. “So why’d you move to a city?”

She sucked in a hard breath, and repositioned her jeans-clad legs underneath her. “Long story.” She offered a sideways smile, and he forced himself to hold her gaze despite the magnetism tipping him off balance. “I’m here for Nonie now, and that’s all that matters.”

Closed door on that topic. Probably for the best. He didn’t need to carry her secrets, even if some deep-rooted part of him wanted to. “Have you seen your grandmother yet?” Brady plucked a leaf from the shingles beside him and began to shred it, eager for something to do with his hands before he shoved another proverbial foot in his mouth.

“Not yet. I spent the weekend getting settled and hitting the grocery store.” She exhaled slowly, turning her eyes back to the inky sky. “I was going to go tomorrow after work.” Her voice trailed off, as if she’d almost forgotten he was there. “I need to, anyway.”

“You could take Ava, if you wanted.” The words flew out before he could process them, but the idea made sense—not to mention it seemed to combat the anxiety in her expression. It didn’t make sense. If she moved to Broken Bend to take care of her beloved grandmother, then why hadn’t she run over there the moment she crossed the county line?

Maybe that was part of the secret she carried.

“You wouldn’t mind?” Hope filled the hollow spots in her voice, and Brady suddenly hoped she didn’t ask him to rope the moon. Because in that moment, he’d have gladly headed out to the barn for his lasso.

His leaf was gone, shredded to pieces in his lap. He brushed off his jeans. “Not at all. It’d be good for her. And speaking of Ava, I need to get back in case she wakes up and finds me gone.”

Caley stood as he did, and he offered his hand for assistance. She either ignored it or didn’t see it, because she nimbly turned backward and scurried halfway down the ladder like a squirrel on tree bark. She clapped her hands twice, and Scooter obediently came to the edge of the rungs. She reached up for him, tucked him against her side and climbed down a few more feet until she could safely drop him to the grass.

That was something he didn’t see every day. Brady followed at a slower pace, not breathing regularly until her feet were on solid ground—and all too aware that the dog was less afraid of heights than he.

“Does she usually wake up in the middle of the night?” Caley tucked her hair behind her ears, eyes full of compassion.

He centered himself back on earth before he answered. “Not usually, but in the last few years since her mom’s death, she gets the occasional nightmare.” More like night terror, the way Ava woke up, crying and pounding on his bedroom door. She hadn’t had one in months.

“Has she seen a counselor about it?” Caley turned, the moonshine turning her hair nearly white.

“She saw one in the year after, and the counselor assured me her grief was typical and would go through stages.” Brady ran his hand over his own hair, really wishing for his hat now. Anything to try to guard himself from Caley’s inquisitive stare. Her eyes darted between his, and he could almost see the wheels turning. “She’s fine, I promise. She’s come a long way. Sometimes you just can’t control where your brain takes your dreams.” He knew that firsthand. He’d relived his childhood trauma of being locked in that fiery basement way too many times to count. And no matter how many times he revisited that terrible night, he always felt as if he was forgetting something. That unrecalled memory bothered him more than it should, and he had no idea why. Whatever it was must be worth blocking out. Too bad he couldn’t forget the entire ordeal.

All the more reason to keep a close watch on Ava—if he hadn’t made friends with those troublemakers at school, he’d never have gotten in that position in the first place.

“No, you definitely can’t control everything.” Caley looked away then, the wind ruffling her loose hair, and he hooked his thumbs in his belt loops so he wouldn’t tuck the golden strands behind her ear. “I’ll do whatever I can for her. My mom left when I was little, and I don’t really remember her. But I still can hopefully relate to Ava.”

The sad truth was, she probably would.

And he couldn’t.

The night pressed around him then, suffocating, making it hard to breathe. Their casual rooftop conversation had gotten way too heavy, brought back too many memories best left buried. He’d hired Caley to be a babysitter and a part-time cook and housekeeper—not psychologist for him or his daughter. He knew her intentions were good, but probing into their hearts and pasts would only stir up more pain.

He’d had enough of that to last a lifetime.

“Ava is fine. We both are.” Saying it multiple times didn’t make it true, but in the sense that Caley was worried, they were doing okay. Neither of them grieved daily anymore. They’d gone on with their lives, as they must.

Their father-daughter relationship, however, was a different story. But Caley couldn’t fix that any more than she could rewrite the past.

Or the future.

Brady gestured over his shoulder in the general direction of the ranch house. “I better get back. Have a good night.”

“You, too. See you tomorrow.” Caley smiled her goodbye but didn’t make a move to go inside. She remained standing, staring at the stars.

Leaving Brady to wish, as he ambled away, that he could see what she did.

Chapter Five

She’d run into blazing buildings when others had run out. She’d skydived, steer wrestled and babysat for the world’s most mischievous and troublemaking twin boys. She’d bungee jumped, rock climbed, white-water rafted and even won a jalapeño-eating contest in west Texas.

Walking inside a room at the local nursing home shouldn’t be that difficult.

Caley stood just outside the doorway, breathing in the unmistakable smell of antiseptic mixed with a liberal spray of floral air freshener. She fought the urge to gag, to turn and run and pretend this wasn’t happening. Nonie—her Nonie, trapped in a cream-colored prison. It wasn’t fair.

But neither were a lot of things, including the way Caley had practically run away from home. And the way her dad and Nonie never seemed to care if she ever returned.

Hadn’t anyone in her life ever truly wanted her? Her mom left them when Caley was young, choosing an older, wealthier man over her high-school-sweetheart husband, and never looked back.

Was Caley that forgettable?

“Is this the right room?” Ava tugged at Caley’s shirtsleeve.

Caley startled, having nearly forgotten the girl was there. Not a great mark for her babysitting résumé. She shook her head to clear it and smiled down at her charge, hoping the younger girl didn’t see how her lips shook of their own choosing. “Sorry. I zoned out there. This is right.” But so, so wrong. She took a deep breath and urged her feet to move, but the brown cowboy boots refused to budge. “After you.”

Ava furrowed her brow in confusion, but stepped around the door frame and into the room, leaving Caley no choice now but to follow.

The dim room, lit by the glare of a television playing an old game-show rerun, seemed depressing and suffocating. Nonie lay propped in bed, a half-empty glass of water next to her at the rolling bedside table, her eyes closed, mouth slightly open as she napped. The room had no pictures or flowers like some they’d passed in the hallway on their way here. No signs of life or love or cherished memories.

A knot formed in Caley’s throat and threatened to choke her completely. She coughed in an attempt to clear it, then covered her mouth with her hand, hoping she hadn’t woken her grandmother. She couldn’t do this right now. Not today. Maybe tomorrow.

Maybe the next day.

Memories blinded her, rushing at her in a wave of nostalgia thick enough to bottle. Nonie, surrounded by fabric squares as she pieced together a quilt. Nonie, handing Caley a freshly baked chocolate chip cookie and winking as she pressed a second one into her other hand. Nonie, rubbing her back when she was tired and holding her hair when she was sick.

Now Nonie was sick, and Caley couldn’t do a thing about it.

She turned to escape, but her boot squeaked on the linoleum floor. Nonie’s eyes fluttered open, and she stared at Caley as if she’d imagined her presence. Had she? Had she lain in this bed, feeble and frail and alone, imagining Caley there?

“Caley? Is that you?” The words bled from Nonie’s throat, croaky and aged in a voice that wasn’t her own.

Then she coughed, and her vibrancy returned as the frog vanished. “Girl, get over here. What took you so long? I’ve been waiting for weeks for you to show up.”

Ava stared at Nonie and then at Caley, apparently searching for answers. Caley opened her mouth, then shut it and shrugged as she made her way to Nonie’s bedside. “It’s me.”

Her grandmother’s bony fingers cupped her shoulders in a hug, the pressure strong and tight like she’d always remembered. Caley pulled back, but Nonie held her close in a grip a pro wrestler would have admired. “You look good, kiddo.”

“So do you.” The words slipped out automatically before Caley could realize their lack of truth, but Nonie just laughed hard enough to bring on a coughing spell.

“Still full of jokes. Glad life hasn’t beaten you down, my girl.” Nonie clutched Caley’s hand in her own veined, papery-thin one, and smiled, revealing perfect dentures. Then she leaned in closer, her wise blue gaze staring with the force of a laser. “Or has it?”

Caley tugged free, unable or maybe unwilling to answer. She wrapped one arm around Ava, who had dropped back, and propelled her forward. “Nonie, this is Ava. I’m her nanny for a few weeks. She and her dad live next door to the house I’m renting.”

“I know this young’in from the church.” Nonie latched on to Ava, who didn’t seem to mind in the least. “McCollough, right?”

Ava nodded and returned the squeeze, even pumping Nonie’s hand like she would a healthy adult with a regular handshake. “Nice to see you again, ma’am.”

“I once changed your diapers in the church nursery.” Nonie grinned, a flash of her former spunk still vivid in her eyes. She might be stuck in this bed, but her mind was certainly not the traitor her body was. “You and your daddy still attending?”

“Most weeks.” Ava shrugged as she eased onto the side of the bed near Nonie. “We didn’t for a long time, but I’m glad he takes me again. My Sunday-school class is fun.”

“I sure wish they’d let me out of here to go.” Nonie gestured to the room holding her captive. “But you know what’s neat?” She leaned in close to Ava as if she had a secret, just like she’d done to Caley as a child. “I can meet with God right here in this room. Doesn’t have to be in a church.” She patted the worn Bible on the bedside table.

A muscle jumped in Caley’s jaw. Nonie used to take her to church when she was growing up. Her father had refused to set foot in the building, for reasons she never fully understood.

Now she sort of got it.

Caley slipped away from the bed, gratefully allowing Nonie’s attention to focus on Ava as they chattered about the people they knew in common from the church. It was a small world. No, small town. That was half the reason why Caley had bailed in the first place. She’d needed more space than four corners of a county line. More adventure than cow-tipping Farmer Ganshert’s lazy herd on a Friday night.

More life than her dad would allow her to live.

“Been a long time.” Nonie turned her attention Caley, her plum-colored lips thinning into a line. Leave it to Nonie to wear lipstick in the nursing home. Her eyes widened with meaning. “Too long.”

“I’m sorry, Nonie.” Caley started to say more, but the words froze deep inside and refused to thaw. Sudden tears burned behind her eyes, and she pinched the bridge of her nose to ward them off. It was her fault she’d stayed away—but then again, not entirely. “We should probably go.” Far, far away. Where no one could see her cry or know her secrets. Know how selfish she’d been fresh out of high school. Know how she’d carried the hurt with her all over the country, nestled permanently on her back and heavier than the oxygen tank from her bunker gear.

But the scary part was—would she do it any differently if she could have a do-over?

“We just got here.” Ava, with all the naivety and practicality of a preteen, perched on the edge of Nonie’s bed. “Wheel of Fortune is coming on.”

“I’ve gotten good at the puzzles.” Nonie patted Ava’s hand, and the cozy scene could have been a time warp from when Caley was ten years old, snuggled on Nonie’s bed with the remote control and her favorite quilt. “But some puzzles, my dear, are not as easily solved.”

Ava nodded as she tuned in to the show, but Caley knew those words were meant for her. She caught Nonie’s eye over the top of Ava’s head, and relaxed slightly at her grandmother’s understanding wink. She sank into the hard wooden chair near the bed and leaned back, ignoring the way the slats dug into her back.

She deserved the pain.

* * *

Figured the one time Max went into town for feed, the bull got out.

Brady faced the hindquarters of the ornery steed from several yards away atop Nugget, who snorted and tossed his head, jangling the reins as if to say Brady must be crazy if he thought they were getting any closer to the loose animal. On his morning rounds, he’d noted the trampled section of barbed wire too late. Now his prized bull, Spitfire, was in open pasture, way too close to Caley’s house—and the street—for comfort.

Brady fingered the lasso on his saddle horn, wondering if he should amble casually that direction or let the bull make the first move. Or, ideally, leave him be until Max returned as backup on a second horse. The bull wasn’t outright dangerous in theory, but when trying to be coerced from greener pastures back into his section of pen, well...that could change. Already he shot wary, flat-eared glances at Nugget, as if he knew the horse’s plans to round him up. At least Caley had taken Ava to the nursing home, so they weren’t in the—

Gravel spun as Caley’s truck pulled into her driveway. Brady winced as the commotion drew the bull’s attention. His large black head popped up, grass dangling from his rubbery lips, and his tail stilled.

Caley and Ava climbed out, oblivious to the situation, their feminine voices carrying in the wind. Of all the times for them to go to Caley’s house instead of the ranch. Scooter barked twice from inside the house, and Brady breathed his relief when Spitfire snorted in warning, then slowly returned to his afternoon snack. Good thing Caley had locked her dog up when they left earlier, or there’d be a three-ring circus in his pasture about now.

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