A Blind Date With Her Cowboy Billionaire Boss

(Brookside Ranch Brothers)

Hanna Hart

Book #2

Copyright ©2019 by Hanna Hart - All rights reserved.

In no way is it legal to reproduce, duplicate, or transmit any part of this document in either electronic means or in printed format. Recording of this publication is strictly prohibited and any storage of this document is not allowed unless with written permission from the publisher. All rights reserved.

Respective authors own all copyrights not held by the publisher.

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Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Epilogue

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About the Author

Chapter One

Colt

Colt never imagined he would be one of those people who dreaded going home.

His life was all about his ranch. His mother even named him Colt after her love of the young horses they kept on their family farm back in Houston, Texas.

Ranching was in his blood. It was a right of passage.

When his father opened up a collection of luxury ranch resorts under their billion-dollar banner “Brookside Ranch” and gave him one to run all on his own in Carrin, Texas—a town he had never even heard of before—he readily accepted the challenge.

But back then, he had help to run his ranch—and his homestead.

Brookside Ranch was set on twenty-thousand acres of land. Unlike some of the other ranch properties his father Roger had purchased, Brookside Carrin also came with a cattle farm. They supplied most of the south end of Texas with grade-A, grass-fed, organic beef.

Colt hired someone else to handle that part of the business. As far as he was concerned, the only time he wanted to see or think about the fact that they ran a cattle farm was when it came up on the plates of his customers at their luxury ranch restaurant.

Now hospitality—that’s where Colt’s heart was at. That, and the horses.

Tonight, Colt had taken it upon himself to put away the horses. He led his favorite horse, a black stallion named Midnight, into his stable, and the horse pulled back with irritation.

“I feel you, buddy,” Colt said, running his hands along the animal’s mane. “I don’t wanna head back, either. But we have to buck up and take it like men. You know what I mean?”

Midnight whinnied at the thought.

“Alright,” Colt laughed. “One more ride, then it’s bedtime; you got it?”

Sensing that, at least for now, the horse had gotten its way, Midnight immediately changed his tune.

Colt brought him out into the expansive horse range and mounted him. Midnight trotted proudly and made his way through the grass.

Seeing the ranch lit up at night like that, Colt couldn’t help but be proud. The entire building was lit up with string lights and practically glowed in the summer night.

The accommodations included forty individual units and fifteen elegant two- and three-bedroom log cabin residences complete with authentic, western exteriors. Of course, they also included modern amenities and lavish accents that made people feel like they were in the old west while maintaining a sense of being pampered.

Brookside also housed fifteen in their Silver Creek Lodge—a large family unit that was often rented out by boys on a dude ranch weekend or wedding parties.

They could have had another private lodge and raked in heaps more in revenue, but Colt took the other lodge residence for himself.

This was both a good and a bad thing for him. It was good because he was never far away from the ranch that he loved so dearly, but it was bad because that also meant he was always ‘technically’ at work.

Plus, the lodge had fifteen bedrooms and was much too big for him and his two children.

Not to mention, his mother.

“How was it?” she asked when he walked into his home.

These were the words his mother had said every day for the past five months.

Even though the simple phrase was meant to be a polite way of starting a conversation, he had begun to cringe whenever he heard the words.

She couldn't just ask, “How was your day?” or “Anything exciting happen at work today?”

No. It was always, “How was it?”

“Fine,” he said. “We did two tours at the fly-fishing course, and then we did a big campfire. I left as they were wrapping things up.”

“You worked late tonight,” she said.

“I’m sorry. I should have called,” he admitted.

On top of the usual things like horseback riding, the ranch also offered mountain biking, fly fishing, luxury corporate retreats, family activities at their Lil Wrangle and Run camp, ATV riding, archery, and special feast nights hosted by their executive chef.

These were all things he had to either tend to, be present at, or check up on during any given day.

He felt bad for his mother, Shannon. She was not living with him due to old age. She was only fifty-two and in perfect health, as far as he knew.

She was living with him because he needed help with the kids. Never in his whole life did he imagine that raising two kids under five would be more difficult than running a billion-dollar company.

There weren’t enough hours in the day to spend with them.

“It's alright,” Shannon said with a shrug. She pulled a plate of food out of the refrigerator and said, “There's dinner for you. Do you want me to heat it up?”

Colt looked down at the plate. It was meatloaf and garlic mashed potatoes with a side of buttery corn on the cob. He would have kissed her square on the lips if she weren’t his mother. Comfort food was exactly what he needed right now.

“It's okay,” he said as he eagerly pulled the plastic wrap off of the plate. “I'm fine with it cold. Thanks.”

His mother reached across and grabbed a strand of thick hair from his bushy beard between her fingertips. Her disapproval of his new unkempt look was evident in her expression.

“Any plans on shaving this?” she asked. “Anytime soon?”

Colt inhaled audibly and ignored her. “How were the kids?” he asked.

“Isaiah was a good boy today. Eleanor...well,” she shrugged and took a seat across from him at the dining room table. “That girl is going to take an eardrum out, mark my words.”

“I'm sorry,” he said, feeling guilty.

“It's alright,” she said, raising both her palms to him. “That's what babies do. They cry.”

He knew she was right, but he couldn’t help the guilt he felt knowing that she was taking care of his children day in and day out.

“I took her out to the farmer's market this morning and walked her around,” Shannon added sweetly.

“I'm sure the patrons there were eternally grateful to have a screaming baby in their midst,” he snorted.

“It calmed her right down,” she said, ever positive. “She's going to be a farmer, I can tell.”

“No,” he laughed. “She's going to be a scientist.”

“Maybe she'll do science on fruit and vegetables.”

“You never know,” he agreed.

His mother watched him shoveling down food, probably thinking that his appetite was just as voracious now as it was when he was sixteen. Then she folded her hands together and broke eye-contact with him as she said, “I saw Suzanne there.”

His former mother-in-law. Or was she still his current one? He didn’t know how their family ties worked anymore.

Colt didn’t look up from his meatloaf. “Oh yeah?”

She nodded and waited for him to ask a follow-up question. He didn’t, and she took it as a sign to leave the subject alone.

“Alright,” she said, forcing a yawn. “I guess I'll head up to bed.”

“Goodnight, ma,” he said, nodding toward her. “Thanks for supper.”

Colt was happy for the brief moment of silence at the dinner table but was startled when he looked up and saw his mother still standing there, hesitating in the doorway.

“Something else?” he asked.

Shannon cleared her throat. “I just wanted to tell you that I booked a flight home on Tuesday.”

“Tuesday?” he repeated in surprise. “That’s less than a week from now!”

“I know,” she said guiltily. “But I need to get out to your bother.”

Colt set down his fork and laughed indignantly. Throughout his twenty-eight years, his mother had always done this. “Which brother, ma?” he asked, tilting his head to the side. “There are six of us, after all.”

“Phoenix,” she said, speaking of the middle child.

From oldest to youngest, there was Jett, Bennett, Colt, then Phoenix, Hunter, Jackson, and their baby sister Kennedy.

His parents had been so busy starting and raising a family, Colt had no idea how they had ever devoted their time to the ranch.

He only had two kids, and he was already going out of his mind.

“Phoenix always needs help,” Colt said petulantly. “He's not the only one having trouble right now.”

“I know that,” she said. “But you can do this. I've done all I can do here. Besides, I haven’t seen your father in nearly a month now. He’s meeting me there.”

“What am I supposed to do about the kids?”

“Raise them,” she teased. “I've more than shown you how. It's only one more year until Isaiah will be in school, and things will get better then.”

“And Eleanor?” he asked, knitting his brows together.

“I was thinking I might send your sister down to help you if you aren't keen on hiring a caretaker.”

“No,” he said, putting a hand up and laughing with annoyance. “No, no, no. That's fine. I don’t' need her bringing her teenage friends to my house and partying while I'm gone.”

“Oh, she's not that bad,” Shannon laughed. “I think it could do her some good to be out here with you.”

“No, thank you. I can only take one headache at a time,” he said.

“You know...we only want to help.”

“I know that, ma,” he said. “But nothing helps.”

Chapter Two

Shelby

Things are bigger in Texas. That's the saying. Shelby had heard the phrase since she was a little kid and even had some obnoxious high school friends who used to yell the phrase with conviction—trying to prove how truly awesome they were.

Shelby had loved her home state. She was from Carrin, a coastal town in the South of Texas.

Growing up in Carrin gave her the best of both worlds. She had the dry, intense heat from the Texas sunshine along with the type of dockside living strictly reserved for the western states.

Carrin had a large marina, docks, water sports, sprawling ranches, and waterside restaurants.

It was the perfect place to grow up.

Whether it was the perfect place to come back to after a failed marriage, Shelby had yet to determine.

“How’s unpacking coming along?” Whitney asked, setting a glass of sweet tea on the counter in front of Shelby.

“As you can see,” Shelby said with a broad smile, gesturing toward her lax seat at the local diner’s barstool, “I’m being very productive.”

Her friend laughed, tossing her wild brown curls behind her.

“Just because you don’t unpack doesn’t mean you don’t live here,” Whitney said.

Shelby slouched in her stool and dragged her fingertips along her face. “Don’t remind me,” she joked.

Yes, Shelby had loved living in Texas when she was young. But coming back as a divorcee in a small town where everybody knows everyone else’s business might be the biggest risk she’d ever taken.

“What's the plan for today? Gonna go walk down by the water?”

“Nah. I'm gonna get my steps in,” she said, tapping the watch on her wrist. “Then I'm going to look for a job. I can't keep sitting around your house without contributing anything.”

“Fair enough,” Whitney said. Her friend's nose curled into a mischievous wrinkle as she suggested, “I think I know how you can kill two birds with one stone.”

Shelby took a long pull from her iced tea and blinked at her friend curiously.

“Do tell,” she said.

“You remember that old ranch on Morgan Road?” Whitney asked.

Shelby nodded. She remembered the old place. It was a sprawling property, but the ranch had fallen into disrepair after the owner lost his legs in a car accident. Shelby and her friends would walk by now and again and slowly watch the building lose its luster. Loose board beams and wild animals running through the ranch fields with nobody to rein them in. It was quite sad.

“Well, this family came in and bought it a couple of years back,” Whitney said, then held up her finger to pause the conversation as she picked up a pot of coffee and marched it over to a customer's table.

Whitney was a waitress at Brewed Awakening. The diner was a local hotspot and often where the townies came to deliver their daily dose of gossip.

She was more than a waitress, actually. Whitney's mother had owned it, and after she retired, Whitney began running it with her boyfriend, James.

After Shelby's life began falling apart, Whitney had invited her to come and live above the diner with her until she got back on her feet. It was a sweet offer. One Shelby couldn't rightly refuse—especially considering she had nowhere else to go.

“Okay,” her friend said excitedly, practically bouncing back behind the counter. “This family moved here a couple of years ago. Five or six years, maybe? The Brooks,” she said emphatically.

“Mmhmm,” Shelby said, indicating she was still listening.

“Really nice couple. Handsome husband, sweetie-pie wife,” Whitney said, her tone slowly mellowing.

“Let me guess,” Shelby said, feeling a cold sweat run down her palms. She didn't make eye-contact with Whitney as she said, “Cute little kids?”

Her friend nodded but didn't dwell on the family, and she quickly continued, “Yep! Anyhow, they came in about five years ago with Colt's daddy's money—that's the husband,” she clarified. “They bought the ranch and turned it into this huge success.”

“Wow, really?”

Whitney nodded. “It's like this billion-dollar collection of ranches owned by all of these brothers.”

“Oh, wait,” Shelby said, wrinkling her forehead. “Is that...Brookside?”

“Yeah!” her friend cheered.

“I saw a sign for that place when I was driving in,” she said with recollection. “Is it a pretty big place?”

“Huge,” Whitney nodded. “It's a cattle farm, but they also do horse riding lessons, weddings, and they have all these experiences. It's pretty cool.”

“Can I assume this commercial you are reciting to me is a long-winded way of saying that the ranch is hiring?” Shelby asked, and Whitney laughed.

“Oh, the ranch is always hiring!” a middle-aged woman said cheerfully from her table behind them.

Shelby twirled in her stool to look at the woman, who looked over at them with zero shame for eavesdropping on their conversation.

“They're always looking for horse instructors,” the woman added. “My daughter works there, doing these adventurous horseback rides. She loves it!”

For the first time in months, Shelby brightened. She loved horses, and the thought of getting to guide people on horseback all day sounded more like a dream than a job.

“That sounds perfect!” Shelby said, nodding toward the stranger. “Thank you!”

After finishing her drink, Shelby practically ran upstairs back into her friend's apartment and raided Whitney's closet—with her express permission—to find an outfit that screamed: ‘Hire me.’

She landed on a black pencil skirt and a white, collared, short-sleeved shirt. She put the ensemble on, along with a pair of black heels.

She thought the outfit seemed professional, but upon second inspection, she wondered what in the world she was thinking. This was a ranch, not a medical office.

Shelby hung the clothes back on their respective hangers and threw on a pair of jeans, running shoes, and a black t-shirt.

It was casual enough to say she knew her way around the farm but flattering enough to say she wanted to be taken seriously.

She wore black mascara and nothing more. She wanted to be fresh-faced when she dropped off her resume, though she did take the time to carefully curl her honey-blonde hair into a cascade of s-shaped waves.

The walk to the ranch was long. Whitney wasn't kidding about the walk getting Shelby her much-needed steps.

Upon reaching her destination, Shelby was overcome by the opulence of the ranch.

It was a big change from the rundown old barn she remembered seeing as a teenager.

The main building was a massive barn-shape set against stables and fields of green.

Shelby swallowed nervously and approached the building, walking up the long drive to reach the lobby of the ‘hotel.’

The inside was even grander than she could ever have imagined.

Brookside Ranch ran with the log cabin, rustic theme and did it with elegance. The inside walls were made of thick, dark logs that made the room smell incredible. Each log was piped with white.

The ceiling was peaked to look like the inside of a barn, and there was a large stone fireplace sitting amidst the cozy interior—leather couches with fur blankets, warm amber pillows, and rich and décor.

Shelby felt suddenly unfit to work in such a nice place. She looked behind the front desk where a young woman, perhaps Shelby’s age if not a few years younger, sat. The girl had dark brown hair and wore an outfit similar to Shelby’s, which put her at ease.

“Hi, I was hoping to drop off my resume,” she said as she approached the front desk of the unimaginably ritzy cabin-castle.

“I’ll have Christopher walk you down to HR,” the receptionist said with a smile.

Within minutes, Shelby had arrived at a set of offices at the far end of the building and was in yet another lobby in front of a reception desk.

Shifting awkwardly, Shelby approached the middle-aged woman behind the new desk and said, “I was hoping to drop off my resume?”

“Great!” the woman said. She was cheerful as she announced, “My name is Molly. I can take that for you if you like.”

“Thank you.”

Molly scanned the paper quickly, flipping it front to back before looking back up at Shelby with a polite smile.

“So, it says here you've worked at a medical office in Dallas?” Molly asked, pulling a pen out of a glass holder that reminded Shelby of a mason jar.

“Yes, for five years,” Shelby nodded.

“And besides that, you've worked at an ice cream shop?”

Feeling embarrassed that she had included it on her resume, Shelby flushed. “When I was a teenager.”

“Mmhmm,” Molly said, almost dismissively. “And, any experience on a ranch?”

“I know my way around a horse,” Shelby said.

“Oh, that's perfect!” Molly said, brightening slightly. “How’s that?”

“Well, I grew up here in Carrin. I haven't been back since they sold the ranch,” Shelby explained.

“Well, that's just amazing. Let me be the first person to welcome you to Brookside Ranch! We're part of a luxury branch of resorts owned by the Brooks family.”

Shelby smiled. “I heard. It's absolutely beautiful here. I can't believe how much it's changed.”

“They know what they're doing. Okay, so, Shelby. Are you looking for full-time or part-time work?”

“Full time, if possible,” she said and watched as Molly scribbled her answer on the top right corner of her resume.

“Yep, that's perfect. Available to work weekends, holidays?”

“Yes, and yes,” she said.

She had sensed at first that Molly thought Shelby had lost her way when she stepped into Brookside, but the longer the two chatted, the warmer the HR receptionist seemed.

Molly asked her a couple more questions about her availability and job expectations before seeming satisfied with her answers.

“You know what?” the receptionist said triumphantly. “We've been looking for another tour guide, if you're comfortable being on a horse most of the day?”

“As long as the horse is comfortable, I'm comfortable,” Shelby said, feeling a twinge of excitement in the tips of her fingers.

“Okay. Can I ask you to come in tomorrow at around eight? I know it's a little early, but I'd love to get you in here and do a formal interview, show you around, all that good stuff?”

“Yeah, I can do that.”

“Bring riding boots,” Molly said. “I want to see how you do with the horses. We’ll do a really fun tour, and afterward, you should get a pretty good idea of whether Brookside would be a good fit for you.”

“Sounds perfect!” Shelby said excitedly.

“Great. See you tomorrow!”

Chapter Three

Colt

Colt had gone through a metamorphosis of mornings over his lifetime.

When he was a teenager, his summer mornings were spent sleeping in until eleven, waking up to a big breakfast made by his mother—reheated in the microwave, of course. And finally, he’d wrap up his morning hours by watching an hour or two of television before heading out with his friends.

In his early twenties, he met Amma in a Texas hospital room. He had been playing football with his buddies when a wayward slip had resulted in a gash in his forehead. She was there due to her heart.

They were the only two people in the waiting room, which was rare, and struck up a conversation.

Amma wasn’t strikingly beautiful—not at first. She was plain-looking, with a soft oval face, wispy bangs, and brown eyes. But he was taken aback by her smile.

His wild attraction to her would come later.

They talked for a half-hour in the waiting room. When he asked her what was wrong, she said, “Heart.”

“Attack?” he said.

She shook her head with a shy smile. “It’s broken.”

He smirked. “Poetically speaking or…?”

That’s when she told him about her rare heart condition: spontaneous coronary artery dissection. There was little known about SCAD other than the artery walls of the heart can peel and separate, which would then lead to a blockage in the heart.

He felt like a jerk for asking her if she’d had a heart attack, but she flashed him a bright smile and said, “Don’t worry about it. Who knows, maybe your rudeness will turn out to be our ‘meet-cute.’”

Colt was hooked from that moment on.

After he was with Amma, summer mornings were spend lazily wrapped up in each other’s arms or walking through the unknown city streets to find new restaurants, forever on the hunt of the perfect burrito.

Just one short year after they met, Colt and Amma married in a small but luxurious ceremony at The Astorian in Houston, Texas.

Amma wasn’t someone who was attracted to Colt for his family money. She never asked for him to pay for things, even though he always did, and willingly said she would sign a prenup before they got married. He did not take her up on that offer.

But when Amma saw the Astorian ballroom, she all but made puppy-dog eyes at Colt. It reminded her of a real-life version of the ballroom from Beauty and the Beast, she insisted. She had to have it.

So he got it for her.

They had a small wedding of just one hundred and fifty guests. Amma wore a golden yellow dress, like Belle’s, and they had the most amazing, out-of-place Mexican feast at their reception.

“Dad, I want my red shirt!” Colt could hear Isaiah calling from the other room, ripping him from his memories.

Now mornings in the Brooks household were chaotic, to say the least.

By the time Colt and Amma reached their first-year anniversary, Amma had given birth to Isaiah. He was a good baby, and Amma was happy to spend her days in servitude to the little life they had created.

She wanted a bigger family, she kept insisting. But the doctors said the first pregnancy had been hard on her condition. Amma was sweet, loving, thoughtful…stubborn.

At twenty-six, Amma died during childbirth.

Eleanor was born a healthy baby girl, without a mother.

Her birth was bittersweet, and Colt was ashamed to say that a part of him had a hard time bonding with Eleanor because of this fact.

“Dad, I want my red shirt!” Isaiah called from the living room.

“Yeah, Daddy's gonna grab that for you,” Colt called with an exasperated breath.

Eleanor began screaming, letting out an indignant cry.

Colt sucked in a breath and rushed to her crib, pulling her out of her swaddle and onto her changing table.

As he changed her, she screamed bloody murder. Her cries were so piercing that Colt literally cringed as he tended to his daughter.

“Dad! My red shirt! My red shirt!” Isaiah began yelling.

Colt could feel his patience running thin. Work was wearing him down, the kids were wearing him down—his whole life was wearing him down.

He didn't know how Amma did it.

Colt wasn't afraid of anyone. He'd taken on his job as owner of the ranch without flinching. He knew business was in him. It was in his blood. His father ran a ranch, as did his grandfather before him. The Brooks were a family of farmers, to some extent or another. Not to mention years of being in college for business and his wife's degree in marketing had more than prepared them for opening the luxury ranch without much help.

He wasn't afraid of danger-sports. Skydiving, hot air balloon rides, snowboarding—he'd done it all. And anything he hadn't tried yet he was completely open to.

But taking care of his baby and four-year-old? That scared him more than anything in the whole world.

Some days he wanted to lock himself in his bedroom and scream. He wanted to be a kid again. To be able to fall back on the age-old adage of ‘Can't somebody else do it?’

But nobody else could do it, and it was wearing on Colt like a bad sunburn—the itchy, flaky, painful kind.

“Hold on, Isaiah, just let me finish changing your—” he began but watched in horror as, just as he secured a new diaper onto his little girl, she immediately pooped again.

Colt pressed his eyes closed, infuriated.

“Dad, I need my red shirt!” Isaiah complained, walking into Eleanor’s bedroom with stomping feet.

“Isaiah!” Colt yelled, his voice husky and full of irritation.

His little boy’s eyes went wide with surprise before he burst into tears.

Colt felt his heart sink as he looked down at his son. Beginning Eleanor’s second diaper change in the span of two minutes, Colt took a breath and turned his attention to Isaiah.

“I'm sorry for yelling,” he tried to say softly. “But you need to give me five seconds to take care of your sister, okay?”

Isaiah was already done crying, but he didn’t take his father’s apology to heart.

“I miss mommy,” he said in an accusing tone.

“Yeah, well, so do I,” Colt snapped back.

Isaiah stormed off, and he could hear his son out in the hallway, talking to Colt’s mother.

He finished changing Eleanor and suited her up in a little yellow onesie. He pulled her into his arms, and she quieted immediately, letting out long, contented coo.

He rocked her in his arms, feeling a sense of peace for the first time that morning. He closed his eyes and held her head against his chest.

Colt heard his mother come into the room and he opened his eyes.

“Bad morning?” his mother asked.

“It's gotta get easier than this, right?” he asked desperately.

“Don't ask me. I had six boys and a girl,” Shannon laughed. “Nothing ever got easier. I went from diapers to drama. Jett is thirty-two now, and I still get calls from him to listen to his problems.”

“It never stops?” he asked.

Shannon shook her head with a knowing smile. “The family just gets bigger. Girlfriends, boyfriends, wives, babies. Bigger and bigger.”

“Don’t tell me that,” he laughed.

“I’m just being honest,” she laughed. “You should head off to work. Here, let me take her.”

His mother reached for Eleanor and gently took the eight-month-old into her arms.

“Thanks for the pep talk,” he said, kissing Eleanor on the cheek before landing a kiss on his mom’s forehead. “Bye.”

“Bye, dear.”

It was just barely eight in the morning, and Colt’s day had been off to a miserable start. Isaiah was mad at him, his daughter was on a hit-and-miss schedule of sleeping and napping, and the fact that he’d managed to leave the house without spit-up on his shoulder was practically a miracle.

When he entered the office, he noticed a girl waiting in the lobby. She was certainly a sight to see. She wore blue jeans, riding boots, and a yellow-and-blue flannel short-sleeved shirt. Her hair was pale blonde, natural, and her skin was bronzed.

What caught Colt’s attention the most was the ice-blue eyes hidden behind oversized glasses.

He shook his head when he realized he was staring and continued down the hall into his office.

Molly would tend to the visitor.

He savored the silence of his office and began to make a drink. He sat back in his chair, tilting his cowboy hat and taking an eager sip of the black coffee.

Colt loved his morning traditions. He checked his calendar for the day's events and then checked his work phone for messages. That was when he got the call from Molly that she had the flu and wouldn’t be coming in that day.

He set his phone on the desk and leaned back even farther. That was fine. Molly wasn’t scheduled for the next day, Annette was. That would make things easier since they’d only have to be without her for one day.

That’s when it occurred to Colt that there had been a girl waiting out in the lobby and she was probably waiting for Molly.

He sprung up from his chair and walked out, sans-coffee, and greeted the girl. “Hi,” he said.

“Hello,” she nodded.

“Can I…?” he said, drawing out his words, “Help you?”

“Oh, um. My name is Shelby Peters,” the girl said, standing from her seat. “I was supposed to meet Molly here at eight, sharp.”

He nodded and looked down at his watch. “Well, it’s ten after now. That's probably not feeling so sharp right about now, is it?”

“No, sir. It is not.”

“What were you meeting her for?” he asked.

“I had an interview,” she said unsurely, maintaining eye-contact with him.

“Oh,” he said simply. “Well, Molly is sick today, actually. Um,” he stammered, looking back down at his watch. “You mind doing the interview with me instead?”

“Of course!” the girl said eagerly.

“Great. Do you have a copy of your resume?” he asked.

“No, sorry,” she said awkwardly. “I gave one to Molly yesterday but—”

Colt offered her a polite wave of dismissal. “That's alright,” he said. “I'm not fussy.”

He led her down the short hallway to his office door and opened it for her. “Please, step into my office.” He paused, smiled, then said, “I always want to say that, followed by an evil laugh.”

Shelby blinked in surprise, turning to look at him as she passed through the doorframe. “I'm sorry?” she said.

“You know,” he shrugged bashfully, trying to explain, “Like, ‘Welcome to my office, mwahahaha.’” Colt did his best evil villain laugh and waited for Shelby to react. When she didn’t, he twirled his fingers and explained, “As to imply impending doom upon entering...”

Shelby swallowed and continued to stare at him curiously.

“Just because it would be so weird, right?” he said with an unsure laugh.

“It definitely would be weird,” she said, raising her fair eyebrows pointedly. “In fact, I probably wouldn't have come into the office if you did that.”

“Because of the evil laugh?” he asked, closing the door behind them.

She sat across from him at the desk and laughed. “This may surprise you, but it's slightly off-putting,” she said.

“Then I guess you can see why I'm not usually the one who does interviews here.”

Shelby laughed again, and it was a heavenly sound.

“I mostly spend my social time with a four-year-old and an eight-month-old. So, you can see why my social skills might be lacking, currently,” he offered by way of explanation. “Doing silly voices and laughing is basically my entire toddler arsenal right now.”

“Don't worry about it,” she smiled. “I forgive you.” She cleared her throat. “And your boss won't mind you taking up this interview? I can come back when Molly is feeling better if that makes things easier.”

Colt didn’t know whether he should laugh, blush, or be offended. He was clearly so unprofessional that she didn’t recognize a business owner when she saw one.

“Trying to get rid of me already, huh?” he teased. “Well actually, the boss is pretty good with me taking the interview. In fact, I'm the boss's favorite employee.” He shrugged and said, “Because I am the boss.”

Shelby bit her thin, pointed lip and gushed nervously, “Oh man. Am I pre-fired?”

Colt laughed and shook his head. “No! Don't worry about it. Hey, if I were in your shoes, I'd hassle me too.” He looked down toward her purse and then back to his desk. He pulled out a pad of paper and a pen as he began to mumble, “So, let's see...where should we begin? Hey, do you want a coffee, water, something?”

“No, I'm good, thank you.”

“Alright,” he said. “Then why don't you tell me where you've worked in the past?”

Shelby began to tell him about her years working in a pediatrician’s office and provided the necessary references.

“And you were there for five years?” he said, scribbling lightly on the paper in front of him. “That sounds amazing. Why would you leave all that just to come and wrangle some horses with us?”

“I moved back recently after a bit of a...family thing,” she said awkwardly. “And I couldn't keep my job in Dallas. And to be honest, I was getting a little...um...I was ready for a change.”

He smiled. “Well, this is a change. You know that horses are a dirty job, right? I mean, beautiful, no doubt about it,” he laughed. “But you'll be their new best friend in this job. That means spending time with them, caring for them, cleaning up their messes, all that?”

“Yeah, absolutely,” she said eagerly. “I'm one million percent okay with that.”

Shelby was a nice girl. She had wit; he could tell that right off the bat. She knew how to keep up with him, how to banter back and forth effortlessly. The longer they talked, the more he felt perhaps being a ranch-hand wasn’t in the cards for the young woman.

Colt bit his lip and shifted in his seat, looking down at the paper in front of him.

“So you're good with horses?” he asked again.

“Yes, sir. I grew up in Carrin, and my dad owned horses, so I'm pretty familiar with—”

“—What about kids?” he asked.

Shelby’s piercing pale blue eyes went as wide as saucers.

“Oh, um. I'm single, actually,” she said, scratching her arms. “No kids.”

“No, no,” he shook his head. “I mean, are you good with kids?”

“I love kids,” she said.

“Any experience taking care of them?”

“Um, well, I have a lot of little cousins and…” she said slowly, breaking eye-contact. “Are there a lot of little ones who come to the ranch?”

“Not always,” he laughed. “Usually just mine. To be honest, Shelby, I’m willing to offer you a job on the spot, but not on my ranch. How would you like to be a full-time nanny?”

Chapter Four

Shelby

By the time Shelby got home that evening, she was still in shock about her new job. She had barely been expecting to get the job at all, let alone get one she hadn't even applied for.

Whitney wasn’t finished at the diner yet, which usually made Shelby feel anxious. It meant she was destined to be alone in the apartment for the next few hours, and she wasn’t the type of girl who liked to be alone with her thoughts.

But today it didn’t feel so bad.

Today, Shelby had a win, and it had been a long time since she’d had a win. On some level, she felt like dancing. Then again, she also felt like throwing up.

Shelby looked toward the front door of the tiny apartment, willing it to open. When it remained locked tight, she wandered into her bedroom.

Whitney’s apartment was right above the diner. It was a two-bedroom, one-bath with a large living room and a teeny, tiny kitchen.

Shelby’s bedroom was painted a pale yellow and had a single bed and one dresser. She hadn’t taken much when she left Dallas. Not her furniture—not even her dog. Her ex managed to keep those things, along with other precious parts of her life.

Aside from her clothes, Shelby had been unwilling to open her carefully sealed boxes. That was her former life, she told herself. And until she was over the pain of the past, she saw no reason to return to it.

“Then why did you take the job, stupid?” she whispered to herself.

She begrudgingly peeled back the masking tape that sealed one of her moving boxes and let out an audible, heavy breath.

A shoebox of Polaroids was on top of the pile. She ripped off the tape sealing the tiny box and removed the lid.

She had been a big proponent of the retro style film photos coming back into popularity, so it didn’t surprise her when a handful spilled onto the floor, practically exploding out of the box.

Shelby picked them up, forcing them into a pile in her hands, and stared down at the haunting photos.

Her first home. A little seventies bungalow she inherited from her parents after they moved out to New York state.

Her first love. Andrew Clark.

He was tall and handsome. Italian, beautiful tan skin, inviting blue eyes, impossibly thick hair. Ex-best-friend. Ex-husband. Ex-love.

Shelby met Andrew at the ranch where he worked in Dallas. It wasn’t nearly as luxurious as Brookside. Not even close.

But it was a fun place to go on a Sunday afternoon. They often had little fairs there, and her father housed his horses there after they moved off their farm property and into the bungalow.

Andrew was absolutely perfect. He was the most attractive person she had ever seen in real life. Not to mention he had a great laugh, an even better sense of humor, and genuine kindness that she hadn’t sensed in anyone before.

He managed the stables, and she would always run into him when her father was there with the horse.

The two of them hit it off. She was twenty-two years old when they began dating, twenty-three when they got married, and twenty-five when she gave birth to their son. Powell.

Shelby grit her teeth.

She tossed a photo into the pile and continued to search through the box until she uncovered a little blue bib, laced with white trim and a deep blue whale embroidered on the front.

“Hi, baby,” she said, feeling her throat tighten with emotion as the words left her mouth.

Shelby brought the garment to her nose and inhaled the baby powder scent of the laundry detergent. She pressed the bib into her chest and held both hands over it, erupting in tears.

Months ago, Shelby would have sworn she didn’t have any tears left to cry. But it seemed as though, like most things in her life, she was wrong.

By the time Whitney came home, Shelby was just about ready for bed. She had long ago washed her face and slipped into her baggiest pair of pajamas.

She had just been mixing up some hot chocolate when Whitney walked through the door.

Even though it Carrin was located by the water, it was by no means a cool area of Texas. The summers were scorching and dry, especially now at the beginning of July. But something about making things cozy in the house—lighting big candles, sipping hot drinks, getting in wrist-to-ankle pajamas—was comforting to Shelby.

She stirred the hot chocolate with a teaspoon and added a dash of milk to the mug.

“What are you doing?” Whitney laughed.

“Making a hot chocolate,” she said.

“Great, make that two,” Whitney said with a smile, exhausted as she slumped down on the sectional couch.

“Long day?” Shelby asked as she began pouring another mug.

“Long, long, long day,” Whitney said with wide, expressive eyes. “What about you? How’d the interview go?”

“It went…interesting,” she said with a smirk.

Whitney perked up at the mere suggestion of gossip and extended her hand to take the hot chocolate from her friend.

“Okay,” Whitney said, drawing out her vowels. “And what does that mean?”

“I got a job!” Shelby exclaimed excitedly.

“You got the job!” her friend repeated, equally excited as she cheered. “That’s amazing. Congratulations!”

Shelby nodded and set her glass on the coffee table before taking a seat next to Whitney. She crossed her legs and turned on the cushion so that her whole body was facing Whitney.

“Uh oh,” Whitney said with a hesitant chuckle. “What happened? You have your ‘I-have-something-to-tell-you’ look on your face.”

“Which notoriously has not been a good look for me,” Shelby snorted.

Whitney raised a brow and offered a well-humored shrug. “I wasn’t going to say it, but yeah.”

Shelby inhaled a long breath and then nodded toward the console table up against the wall.

Whitney followed her eyes to the table and let out a soft. “Aww, Shelby,” when she caught sight of the photo frame that was newly displayed. “I love it.”

The photo was Shelby up against a fence in her parent’s backyard. She wore big black glasses, pulled her blonde hair up into a messy bun, and held a little baby in her arms.

“Little Powell,” Whitney said with the sugary tone one reserves only for babies and cutest of puppies.

Powell wore a white onesie with a gray arrow pattern and had his wild, dark hair in a little fauxhawk.

Powell was born at eight pounds, two ounces. Andrew had been by her side, cheering her on the whole time. She took no drugs and was only in labor for three hours.

“You’re a natural!” her doctor had congratulated.

“Oh, we’ll be back,” Andrew teased. “We want a big family.”

Shelby cringed at the memory now.

Powell had lived for exactly two months. Three months later, Andrew left. There were no more second chances between them. No more babies. No more family.

This fact had been haunting her like a ghost. Her family—the entire future she had planned and made a reality for herself—was gone.

Hiding from Powell, from the memory of him, was all she could do to stay sane.

She didn’t want to remember her pregnancy. She didn’t want to remember how her breasts filled with milk at the sound of him crying or the strong bond they shared. She didn’t want to remember family nights with Andrew or the way she felt so peaceful with Powell asleep in her arms.

It had been too painful.

But now, thanks to her new job, she had to stop running.

“I got a job today,” Shelby repeated, unable to stare at the photo of she and Powell any longer.

Whitney quickly took the hint: change the subject.

“So you said,” she said with charming ease. “So, you’re going to be a stable wench?”

“First of all, I’m pretty sure that is far from the official title and second of all, no, actually. I’m going to be a nanny.”

Whitney blinked in surprise before her stare turned into a deeply wrinkled frown. “You’re what?” she enunciated.

“I had my interview at Brookside today, and actually, it was with the owner.”

“Colt?” Whitney asked, and Shelby nodded.

“And we got talking and, well, basically, instead of offering me a job at the ranch, he offered me a job as his nanny.”

“Oh my gosh,” Whitney breathed, still processing. It sounded like she was stifling a laugh. “And you said yes?”

“I mean, what else could I say?”

Whitney swallowed audibly. “No?”

“Well, I mean, if we're getting technical, then technically, I paused for an uncomfortably long amount of time and then said yes, if that helps,” Shelby clarified.

“Why didn't you say something like, “Actually, I was under the impression I would be training horses or whatever. Not raising your kids?’”

“Yeah, well, it's a little awkward when someone is offering a job—” Shelby prattled awkwardly, then added, “A job that you need—and he—”

“And he's so cute?” Whitney asked with a knowing smile.

“No.”

Her friend made a face and crossed her arms, tilting her head to the side.

“I mean, yeah, he is very attractive!” Shelby blushed. “But I don't know. It was so awkward! When he offered it to me, I told him I was expecting to work at the ranch, and then he started talking numbers and all that.”

“Talk to me,” her friend said sweetly. “What are you thinking?”

“I'm thinking...this is a bad idea.”

Whitney nodded. “I'm thinking you're right.” Then she glanced over to the photo of Powell on the table. “Are you ready for something like this?”

“I don't know. It makes me feel kind of sick to my stomach,” she said. It was the truth.

“You need to call him and tell him you've changed your mind,” her friend suggested as she leaned forward to grab her hot chocolate.

“I can't. You should have seen him. He looked exhausted!” Shelby said, remembering what it felt like to feel swallowed by parenthood and its eternal lack of sleep. “He's completely overwhelmed with these kids, and I guess his mom was down helping or something, but she's headed home soon, and he needs—”

“He's a rich guy, Shelby. He may need a nanny, but he doesn't need you. And look, I'm not trying to be negative about it or anything, okay? You know I think you're a great mom. You're an amazing parent, so good with kids. But, I'm just not sure it would be good for you.”

“Right. I know,” Shelby nodded quickly, suddenly feeling lectured, though she knew that to be out of character for Whitney. “Or...”

“Or?”

Shelby shrugged. “Or it could be great for me,” she said quietly.

“How do you mean?”

“Well, let's start at the salary, and I do mean salary. I'm not getting paid by the hour; I'm getting a proper salary with benefits. Do you know how much that will help me?”

Whitney nodded. “Outstanding financial debts left by the jerk of an ex-husband? Yeah, I'd say getting a real salary would be pretty amazing, at this point.”

“Not only that,” she said meekly. “Maybe it'll be good for me to be around little kids again.”

“Shelby,” her friend began in that small, feel-sorry-for-you tone Shelby had come to resent.

“I've been avoiding children like the plague since Powell died. And maybe it's time I stop running from this. I used to love kids, Whit,” she said, trying not to get emotional. “They were my favorite part of my job.”

“I know they were.”

“I want my life back, Whitney. I want that joy back, and I think this could be healing for me.”

“You know I’ll do anything to support you,” her friend said. “I just want you to be sure this is the best thing for you before jumping in.”

Shelby paused, rolling the statement over and over in her mind.

“Whitney,” she said, smiling. “I’m sure.”

Chapter Five

Colt

The room was spinning.

Colt remembered the night before, staying late at the restaurant at the ranch, but coming home was a fog.

He turned in his bed and felt the whole room jolt forward.

Bourbon. He remembered that.

Too much bourbon.

His ears pricked back when he heard the front door latch close loudly. His mother was leaving today. Would she just leave without saying goodbye? No doubt she had ordered her car by now, but to leave without waking him seemed unlikely.

He squinted and turned to his phone charging on the nightstand. He tapped the screen twice and saw that it was already eight in the morning.

Colt was officially late for work for the first time since returning to the ranch after Amma died.

He rubbed his forehead, massaging it with his middle finger and thumb. It felt good to have the warm pressure against his temples after such a terrible sleep.

He dreamed of Amma. He dreamed that he woke up in the night and she was sleeping next to him. He woke up from the dream, and she was still there.

Then he really woke up, and the reality of his life hit him all over again. His stomach sank and filled with anxiety when he saw she was gone.

“And you'll be taking care of the children?” he heard his mother’s muffled voice from down the stairs.

“Yes, ma'am,” came a softer, sweeter voice.

“And do you have any experience taking care of children?” his mother asked.

Colt knitted his brows together and sat up in bed.

Who was she talking to?

“Um, a little, yes,” the woman said nervously.

Then it occurred to Colt—it was the nanny!

He sprung up out of bed and threw on a pair of pajama pants as fast as humanly possible. He had completely forgotten that today was her first day, and the last thing he wanted was his mother to scare her off with passive-aggressive questions.

Colt raced out his bedroom door and watched his mother and Shelby from the top of the staircase.

His mother’s tone was clipped as she said, “And you think a little experience is enough to care for two children day in and day out every day?”

“Mom!” he yelled.

Shannon’s neck snapped in his direction, and her eyes widened with horror as she saw his state of dress.

Added to her irritation was likely the fact that he hadn’t exactly told her he had hired someone to take care of the children.

“Colt!” She lectured. “Put some clothes on!”

“Stop hassling my employee, please,” he said, trying to sound charming.

His mother set her jaw as she looked up at him, then offered Shelby a dirty look before spinning on her heel and marching to the top of the spiral staircase.

“Just once second, please, Shelby,” he called down the stairs, raising a finger to his new hire before turning to his mother and whispering, “What are you doing?”

“What are you doing?” she enunciated pointedly. “Did you just hire the first girl who came in? She has no business being here. She doesn't even have kids!”

“Keep your voice down,” he whispered. “She worked in a pediatrician’s office.”

“As a receptionist, not a doctor,” his mother said.

The fact that she already knew this put him on edge. How long had she been talking to Shelby before he’d woken up?

“Hey, she knows CPR,” he said with a shrug.

Shannon frowned, revealing the crow’s feet at the corners of her eyes. “That’s not funny.”

“She’s qualified,” he insisted. “I already interviewed her, and I think she’s going to be an amazing fit for the kids.”

His mother shook her head softly, as though considering something privately. She looked down the stairs and gave Shelby a once-over before turning back to Colt.

“I don't know if this is a good idea, dear,” she said quietly.

“Why not? You think you’re going to be replaced?” he teased, nudging her and trying to play to her good side. “You think the kids are going to like her better than they like you? Impossible!”

His mother didn’t look impressed. “I think you know why.”

Colt raised a curious brow and looked down the stairs.

Shelby’s icy hair was done up in a large, messy bun with a golden yellow bow tying it together. She wore the same color strappy sundress with a black t-shirt underneath.

She looked beautiful in that casual way carefree girls did.

He laughed. “Oh, ma!” he scolded, then whispered, “I'm not a teenager. I can control my raging hormones around my staff, alright? Besides, that's the last thing I want.”

“Are you sure?” she asked, practically accusing.

The question took him by surprise.

He was sure, of course. But the thought that his mother wouldn’t be happy for him to move on puzzled him. Maybe she didn’t think he was ready.

“Amma was my life,” he insisted. “Now my life is the ranch.”

“Your life should be your children, Colt.”

He wanted to roll his eyes. No answer would have been good enough for her, he decided. “You know what I mean!”

“Why don't you let one of your brothers come down and run things for a while?” she suggested.

“No.”

“Or get Emanuel to run the ranch for a while. You can come back to Houston with your father and I and—”

Colt shook his head. “No,” he repeated. “Emanuel ran the ranch for months after Amma. I'm not going to put that on him again. I can handle it.”

“Colt, I'm worried about you,” she said, drawing a hand up to his shoulder.

“Seriously?” he smirked. “You told me you were leaving. You told me that I needed to hire someone, and now I have. You can't come in and complain about it just because I followed through.”

“I don't understand why you don't just let Kennedy come stay for a couple of weeks,” she reasoned with him, but he wasn’t having it.

A quick honk was heard from outside the residence. “Is that your car?” he asked, noting the luggage that was sitting downstairs by the door.

“Oh, don't do this,” Shannon said.

“I'm not doing anything,” he laughed. “I didn't order the car; you did.”

Shannon clenched her teeth. “I worry about you,” she said. “I'm serious. You have some young girl coming in here, you know...you're vulnerable right now, Colt. I don't want to see you get taken advantage of.”

“Mom, I'm telling you,” he said kindly, “the only thing Ms. Peters is going to get from me is time with my children and a paycheck. Okay?”

She met his eyes, searching them for the truth. When she seemed satisfied with whatever she found, she nodded and said, “Okay.” Then she kissed him on the cheek and said, “I have to go. I’ve already set Isaiah up with a movie and Eleanor is downstairs in her rocker. Call me if you need anything.”

Colt nodded and hugged his mother, giving her an extra tight squeeze. “I will.”

“Anything,” she repeated.

“I will,” he said again.

Shannon seemed satisfied. She took one step down the stairs before turning to him and adding, “And go put a shirt on.”

Colt did as he was asked and put some clothes on before meeting his mother at the front door. He carried her bags out to her private car and helped her in, saying his goodbyes and expressing his thanks to her for all she had done to help him these last few months.

When her car pulled out of his long driveway, he felt a small sense of relief and equal parts dread that she was gone.

He turned around and stared at his front door, suddenly filled with embarrassment and a flood of nerves. Shelby was all he had to rely on now, which was quite a feat for somebody he had just met.

Colt walked back into the house and found Shelby in the living room sitting with Isaiah. His son had already taken a seat on her lap, apparently more than ready for Shelby’s attention.

“Hey,” he said awkwardly, walking toward the couch. “I'm sorry about that. Parents have this lifelong desire to embarrass their children.”

“I guess that means that torch has been passed onto you,” she said.

“Yeah,” he said, snapping his fingers and leaning down to tickle Isaiah. “I never thought of it that way. Man, my kids are going to pay for all of the embarrassing things that happened to me when I was a kid.”

“That's healthy,” she giggled.

“I see you’ve already met half of the clan,” he said, gesturing toward Isaiah.

“He’s showing me ‘Mighty Caleb,’” she said, pointing toward the movie on the big screen in front of them.

“Well, why don’t I show you around?”

Chapter Six

Shelby

Shelby's first day working for Colt was good. In fact, it went better than she thought.

Isaiah had been so welcoming, even if his grandmother hadn't been so sweet. But it was meeting baby Eleanor that had Shelby most worked up.

Colt took her upstairs into the little girl’s massive nursery. It was decorated in a woodland theme with a lot of white-painted wood planks, rustic signs, and greens and beiges throughout the room.

For a moment, and considering Colt's wealth, she wondered if they had it professionally decorated. But no, Shelby thought. It was too full of both tasteful and thoughtful touches that only a mother would think to do.

When Shelby was pregnant, she and Andrew were tight for money, and all she could afford were second-hand baby items. She bought Powell’s crib, changing table, and dresser online, as well as the chair she sat in during feedings.

Powell’s clothes were also second hand, save for the items she’d received at her baby shower and his coming home outfit. It was a teeny tiny white onesie with a gray evergreen tree on it. The lettering on the front read: ‘Baby Bear.’

The bottoms were white newborn joggers with gray trim and charcoal bears illustrated on the front. There was a little hat to match.

It seemed like such a small thing, but that silly little outfit had meant so much to her. She had fretted over hundreds of coming home outfits online before deciding on Baby Bear.

She talked about the choice and showed it off to friends with pride while she was still pregnant. She had taken dozens of photos of Powell in it on his first day home.

It was as though she wore it like a badge of honor. She loved her baby so much that she spent days agonizing over the perfect fabric to bring him home in.

It was stupid.

Shelby rocked Eleanor back and forth in her arms as she sat in the cream-colored glider next to her crib. She fed the bottle into Eleanor’s mouth and watched the sweet way the little girl

“You were hungry today, weren’t you?” she cooed. “You had all of your lunch and look at you now. You’re downing this whole bottle. You’re going to be milk-drunk, aren’t you?” she giggled, watching Eleanor’s eyes begin to roll back and close in the contented way babies did.

Shelby smiled and rubbed the back of her finger along Eleanor’s cheek. She and Isaiah both had the cutest brown eyes and chubby cheeks.

“I could sit here with you all day. I really could,” she whispered, looking down at the little girl contentedly.

It was an otherworldly thing to fail at being a mother.

The role of a parent was to protect your child. All you want to do is keep them safe, make them happy.

When Powell died, Shelby knew she had utterly failed. She didn’t protect him. She didn’t save him.

Three months later, Andrew left her for someone else. She remembered the moment so clearly, it was as though she could step right into the memory and become a walking, talking, active part of it.

Andrew slapped divorce papers down on her lap. “I need a partner, not a zombie,” he snapped in the most hateful, hollow tone she had ever heard him use.

“Andrew, I love you!” she had shouted. “I’m trying, here!”

“It’s not enough,” he responded, shaking his head at her.

Shelby’s eyes went wide at the memory, and her body was overcome with chills. She looked down at the sleeping baby girl in her arms and darted up out of her chair. She buckled Eleanor into her sleeper chair and backed away from the infant. She threw her hands up into the air as though a police officer were aiming a weapon at her, her whole body shaking.

She didn’t feel worthy of holding the sweet girl, so she watched her from the rocker instead.

Shelby could feel a panic attack surging through her body, threatening to burst. Just as she felt her chest filling with tight electricity, Isaiah walked into the room.

“Can you—?” he began but quieted to a whisper when he saw Eleanor was napping. “Can you read to me?” he asked.

Shelby swallowed hard, forcing her emotions down. “Of course, buddy,” she said. “What do you have there?”

“Mr. Bryce’s Mice,” Isaiah said, clutching the book to his chest.

Shelby patted her thigh and Isaiah raced up and climbed up onto her, taking his seat in the crook of her arm and staring wide-eyed at the beautiful illustrations on the pages before them.

Some days, that boy was her saving grace.

Her first two weeks had gone well. Both children had taken to her. This was a fact that both delighted and mystified her.

They had their ups and downs, of course. That was the thing about kids. Very rarely were they ever on their best behavior, so whatever you got straight out of the gate was probably what you were stuck with. No pretenses.

Sometimes, Isaiah was the sweetest boy in the whole world. Sometimes all he wanted to do was cuddle up with her on the couch and watch a movie or go outside and play games. Sometimes he would nestle in beside her when she was holding Eleanor and kiss her on the cheek in the honeyed way only a big brother could, and Shelby's heart would melt.

But other days, he was full of anger. He would give unnecessary attitude about the silliest things or find new ways to test Shelby’s patience.

“Isaiah, you have to clean up your toys now, okay?” she instructed, gesturing toward the dozens of stuffed animals, building blocks, and action figures that were strewn around the playroom floor.

“Playtime is over,” she said, hitting her palm against her leg twice as she held Shelby in her arms. “We have to get some dinner.”

“No!” Isaiah yelled, his dark curls bouncing as he pushed past her.

“Isaiah, please?” she asked, following him out into the hall and bouncing Eleanor in her arms. “I will help you put your toys away, but you have to help me too, okay? Then after dinner, maybe we’ll play a game.”

Isaiah looked up at her, brown eyes glowering. “Why d-do I hav’ta help?”

“Because I didn't make this mess; you did,” she said.

“You're not Mama!” he shouted, continuing to storm away.

The sudden burst of noise sent Eleanor into a crying fit, and Shelby set her jaw. Some days, the little boy didn’t make it easy.

“Hey, come here, please,” she said sternly, following after him.

He didn’t listen, and she marched in front of him, kneeling. “Isaiah,” she snipped.

His brows cupped, eyes averting to the floor. “What?”

“No, I am not your mom. I'm your nanny,” she said, her tone soft. “And I would appreciate if you helped me clean up the playroom.”

“Or what?” he asked petulantly.

“For a start, if you don't help me out, then I'll tell your dad. And you don't want to make your daddy upset, do you?” she asked.

“I don't care,” the boy shrugged.

“No?” she asked in surprise. “You don't care if you hurt your daddy's feelings?”

“He doesn't care if he-if he hurts mine,” Isaiah said in a tone so calm and casual, it nearly broke her heart.

She swallowed awkwardly and reached out, offering her hand. Isaiah took the hand reluctantly, finally looking up at her. “That’s not a very nice thing to say,” she said, still trying to maintain some levity in her tone.

“Daddy's not nice.”

“No?” She bit her lip. She wanted to ask more, but she knew that getting into their family drama wasn’t part of her job description. Still, her curiosity got the best of her. “Why not?” she asked.

“He doesn't spend no time with me or Ella.”

Shelby nodded. She couldn’t pretend she didn’t notice Colt’s absence. He worked a lot. She understood that he was running an empire and she couldn’t fathom how hard it would be to try and raise two children on your own. But his lack of effort with the kids was pointed.

In fact, there was a lot Colt didn’t seem to know about his kids. Particularly when it came to Eleanor.

He didn’t know what she liked to eat, when she went to bed, whether she liked to be swaddled. He didn’t know her schedule, and he didn’t spend much time with her except to say good morning, goodbye, and goodnight.

Colt didn’t discipline the children. And the rare times he did try to, he was too harsh, yelling at Isaiah instead of explaining why he was upset.

He had no routines for them, which left both Isaiah and the baby cranky by the end of the day. In fact, he barely made an effort at all to create a structure for them.

Even knowing these things, Shelby didn’t want Isaiah to think that his father didn’t care about him.

“Maybe he doesn't get to spend as much time with you as he'd like to, but your daddy works really hard to make sure you and Eleanor have a nice home and great toys to play with,” she said, giving the little boy a broad smile as she swung his hand in hers. “And now that I'm here, your dad will have less to do when he comes home, which will give him more free time to spend with you.”

“That's right, kiddo,” Colt said, startling Shelby as he came up behind her. She hadn’t even heard him come in. “But you don't get any playtime with me unless you start picking up those toys.” He clapped his hands. “Okay?”

“Okay,” Isaiah said, hanging his head and walking down the hallway and back towards his playroom.

Shelby smiled at Colt. She felt embarrassed, but she didn’t know why. She stood up to follow Isaiah, but Colt put a hand up and said, “I’ll go.”

She nodded. “I’ll go get dinner ready.”

Colt had a chef on call. He had mentioned that to her before, and Shelby gladly used the offer to order in from the ranch restaurant on her first night on the job. Although the meal was one of the best she’d had in a very long time, she also felt weird using the service.

She asked Colt if it would be alright for her to start making dinners at home and he was wildly enthusiastic about the idea.

Whenever he would eat a meal she had prepared, he would always make sure to verbalize how delicious it was or tell her the next morning when she showed up for her shift.

Shelby wasn’t sure if he actually enjoyed the meals, though made sure to take down some of his favorite dishes—roast beef and potatoes with gravy, sticky barbecue chicken, and any pasta served with a butter sauce.

Something about it was so nice. Taking care of the kids all day and then preparing a home-cooked meal. It had only been a few months since Andrew had left, but her life as a wife and mother seemed so, so far away.

“Thanks for saying all that,” Colt said as he stepped into the oversized kitchen. He took a seat at the island where she was prepping a tiny plate for Eleanor.

Shelby smiled at him as she arranged the mashed carrots, mashed sweet potato, a few peels of slow-cooked, plain chicken breast, mashed banana, and four-ounce a bottle of formula for the baby.

“I’m sure he didn’t mean it,” she said. “I’m sure tomorrow, you’ll be his hero.”

“Not likely,” he laughed, rubbing his hand along the beautiful brown granite countertop.

“There’s fried chicken and gravy, biscuits, potatoes, and a green bean casserole ready for dinner,” she said, changing the subject.

“Wow! Somebody’s been busy today.”

Shelby laughed. “I like it,” she said. “Don’t you ever like cooking?”

“Wasn’t ever really my thing,” he said. “The cooking part, pass. The eating part? Sign me up.”

She smiled at him as she walked into the living room. She picked Eleanor up out of her swing and brought her to the highchair in the formal dining room.

Colt helped her bring all of the dishes to the table and even got Isaiah to come and sit with them.

“Are you staying?” Colt asked, watching her carefully as she fed Eleanor.

“I’ll just feed her and head home,” she said sweetly.

She could feel her boss’s eyes on her. “Stay,” he offered. “Look at how much food you made! It’s a feast in here. You always feed Eleanor and stay long enough for her to spit up on you or get a diaper change. Let’s end things differently tonight.”

“No, I couldn’t,” she said, waving him off.

“Yeah, come on, stay!” Isaiah cheered.

“Aw, buddy, I wish I could but—”

“Then stay,” Colt dared her.

She met his eyes and felt a flutter in her stomach. He was a beautiful man. She wouldn’t say it to his face, but he was the very antithesis of rugged. He was tall and broad, with that cowboy swagger. He had a shaggy head of dark hair that was often hidden under a cowboy hat and a dark, unkempt beard.

To others, perhaps he wasn’t outwardly attractive. He looked gruff. But Shelby had seen the photos of him throughout the house when he took care of himself. According to his photos, he used to have short brown hair, a sexy square jaw, and no beard to speak of. Stubble, but no bushman beard.

She found him attractive. She couldn’t help it. But staying for dinner after caring for his kids all day seemed like she was treading a dangerous line.

“I can’t,” she laughed awkwardly.

“Stay,” Isaiah said, drawing out the word in an adorable Southern drawl. “Please, nanny!”

She looked down at Isaiah’s adorably chubby cheeks and found herself getting weaker. Her eyes met Colt’s, pleading for some backup, but he shook his head with a smile.

“One dinner,” he said. “Unless you really, really, really want to go. Otherwise, one dinner isn’t going to kill you.”

“Alright,” she relented, feeling her chest swell with heat. “One dinner.”

Chapter Seven

Colt

It was early morning, and instead of running into work early, Colt had opted to head out to the Carrin farmer’s market and place orders with some of his favorite vendors for an upcoming wedding at the ranch.

He could easily have placed the orders over the phone, but Carrin was a small town, and it meant a lot to the suppliers for a big business owner like himself to come and do it in person.

Plus, it gave him some time to clear his head. He had the opportunity to get lost in the crowd and sample some fresh produce.

He was going to bring the kids with him, but Eleanor was fussy this morning, and Shelby suggested they stay home with her.

As awful as it sounded, bringing his children somewhere with him was not one of Colt’s first instincts these days.

Being without Amma made it difficult to think about spending time with the kids. They had been more of a responsibility to him than a joy since her passing.

But ever since Shelby came around, he had begun healing his relationship with his children. At first, he just wanted her to think that he was a good dad, but it was slowly turning into something real.

Just as Colt was beginning to get lost in his thoughts, he caught sight of two familiar faces.

In the distance were two friends he hadn’t seen in forever. Whitney and James.

They were walking arm in arm and looked as happy as ever.

Whitney was wearing loose pink overalls and had her wild afro up in an explosive ponytail. She had a cloth grocery bag slung around her wrist, her eyes darting furiously around the market stalls.

The pair were his and Amma’s favorite couple to hang out with.

Whitney ran a diner where Amma spent most of her pregnancy loading up on blueberry pancakes and crispy French fries. She and James had a modest lifestyle, but if they were ever jealous of Colt’s wealth, they never let on.

The truth was the foursome were happy to spend time in Whitney’s tiny above-diner apartment watching Netflix on her cozy couch and making homemade pasta sauce or at Colt and Amma’s ranch mini-mansion playing pool and sipping cocktails.

“Hey, you!” Whitney said as she ran up and hugged him. “I haven’t seen you in forever!”

“Hey!” he said excitedly. “How's the diner?”

“Better since you stopped coming around,” she said, giving him a light slap on the shoulder.

“Revenue has shot up six-fold!” he teased.

She laughed. “Yeah, exactly! What have you been up to? How's life at the ranch? How are the kiddies?”

James trailed up behind the wild-haired brunette and said, “Hey, man!”

“Hey!” Colt said happily. “The ranch is great,” he said, answering Whitney’s question. “We have a big wedding coming up this weekend, so that's always fun.”

“And by fun, you mean crazy,” James teased.

“Yes, by fun, I mean rip-my-hair-out-stressful. But in a good way.”

Whitney raised her brows and asked, “And the kids?”

“The kids are...great, actually,” Colt concluded, surprised at the truth behind his answer. “You won't believe it, but I hired a nanny.”

“That's so modern man of you!” Whitney teased. “No more Mama Brooks hanging around?”

“No,” he said proudly.

Whitney smiled. “And who was more heartbroken about that decision: you or Mama?”

“I'm not sure,” he laughed.

After Amma passed away, Whitney and James had been at his place almost every day before he left to go be with his parents.

When he got back, he thought seeing them would be a painful reminder that Amma was missing. And it was the first few times. But mostly, having them around was just comforting.

But, as the spring rolled into Carrin, Texas, the ranch exploded with tourists, and he hadn’t had two seconds to spend any time with them.

“Geez, I miss you guys!” Colt said genuinely. “We need to make plans sometime.”

“Definitely,” James agreed.

“No, not just definitely,” he repeated with air quotes. “Really,” he enunciated. “Let's do something. Let's go to a movie or...or come to the wedding!”

“You are inviting us to a stranger's wedding?” Whitney repeated.

“That is a first,” James said with amusement.

“I know the guy; he’s a great friend of mine. Come on! It's public property, technically. Stand back with the staff and me. We'll enjoy some of the music, eat a little, go see the horses. There's a big firework show during the reception. It'll be great.”

“Sounds awesome,” Whitney said.

“Yeah, I'm in!” James said.

“When is it?” Whitney asked.

Colt’s eyes went skyward, trying to remember the exact time. “Saturday, reception starts at six.”

“Awesome!” Whitney cheered, brushing a hand against her dark forehead, wiping away the beads of sweat that had accumulated from standing in the sun. “And what are you doing Friday night?”

“I'm free,” Colt said. “Why?”

James stared at his girlfriend with a humored look on his face. “Whitney,” he said in a sing-song voice. “I know that look on your face. Don't meddle.”

“I'm not meddling!” Whitney said in a high-pitched, guilty tone.

“Why?” Colt asked curiously. “What's goin’ on?”

Whitney’s lips curled into a side-smirk, and she tapped her chin thoughtfully as she began, “Well, I know this girl—”

Was she…trying to set him up on a date?

Colt’s stomach flipped at the implication of her smile. He should have seen this coming, but the idea of starting up a romance with someone new was such a wildly impossibly idea; he didn’t even think about it.

“Nope!” Colt announced, trying to smile.

James agreed, laughing awkwardly as he said, “No, Whit!”

“No, seriously!” Whitney said with a smile on her face as though she hadn’t just asked him to move on from the love of his life in less than twelve months. “Don't write it off yet! She's super beautiful, new in town, and she's so much fun to be around.”

Colt adjusted his cowboy hat and teased, “You seem to like her so much; why don't you date her?”

“I'm already shackled, practically,” she said with a grin, nudging James.

Colt grabbed Whitney’s left hand and raised it to eye-level before turning to James with mock-accusation. “Yeah, I don't see a ring yet, buddy.”

“Hey, don't try to change the subject!” James chuckled.

“I'm serious, Colt,” Whitney insisted. “You'll have fun. I promise.”

Whitney was usually up for a good jab at James about his lack of proposal in the years they’ve been together. To see her ignore Colt’s comment showed him that she meant business.

“You want to set me up on a blind date, and you're seriously trying to convince me that it's going to be a blast?” Colt asked incredulously. “We must be getting old.”

“It'll be completely relaxed,” she said.

“N-no. I…” he stammered awkwardly. Colt looked at James, giving him pleading eyes. “I don't know,” he continued. “I'm not there yet, you know? It's only been eight months.”

“I know,” she said.

“Dating is...” he shook his head. “It's the last thing I'm looking to do. Not now. Not ever, I don't think.”

Whitney’s brows cupped into a U-shape. Sympathetic. But James, who had been on his side up until two seconds ago, looked shocked.

“Not ever?” James repeated with surprise. “I mean, Colt, we all miss Amma. But that's it? Twenty-eight years and you're calling it quits? Forever?”

Colt shrugged. “Geez, James. Tell me how you really feel. Look, I already found the one. I found the one,” he repeated with emphasis.

They didn’t get it.

Whitney and James were a great couple. They had been so good to Colt and Amma over the years. But they didn’t get it. He already chose the love of his life. Decision made.

They were soulmates, and it was physically and spiritually impossible to find another one. It went against the very core of believing in soulmates.

“I picked the girl,” he said, trying not to sound too upset. “I got married. I started a family. That's it! You don't just pick again.”

“You're right. I'm sorry, Colt,” Whitney said sweetly, bouncing up to kiss him on the cheek. “I was just trying to—” she said before her eyes darted across the farmer’s market. “Pineapple!”

With that, Whitney let go of James’ hand and raced off into the market crowds.

Colt let out a bright laugh and looked at James. “Pineapple?” he asked.

“Ah, she's been waiting for this one pineapple lady. She's from Guam or something, and she grows these amazing pineapples in this weird greenhouse she built. I know it sounds stupid, right? It's just a pineapple, but Whitney is obsessed with them. And I'm not gonna lie,” James smiled, “they're really good pineapples.”

“I'll take your word for it.”

“So...” James trailed off, crossing his arms. “You're really never going to date again?”

“It's only been eight months. Maybe some guys are ready to hop into a relationship again after that, but Amma wasn't my high-school girlfriend. She was my wife.”

“I know. I'm sorry, man. I can't imagine losing Whitney, and we don't have nearly the history you and Amma did. It just surprised me is all,” James said.

“Why?”

James offered a one-shoulder shrug. “Well, because you're not even thirty yet. You know? That's a lot of life you're planning on living by yourself.”

“I have my kids,” Colt corrected.

“I know,” his friend nodded. “But what about when they leave? I mean, they'll probably go off to college or find their own way. And then what? Besides, I'm sure they would love having someone around too, you know what I mean?”

Colt took a moment to let that sink in. James was probably right. Eleanor never met her mother, but Isaiah was old enough to remember her—to miss her. He said it all the time.

“Yeah. I guess that's probably true,” he admitted.

No one could replace Amma but having a female around would probably be beneficial for the kids.

But then again, now that he had hired Shelby, the kids already had that.

James threw his palms up. “Hey, I'm not saying you have to jump back in the dating game tomorrow. I'm just saying, keep an open mind. When was the last time you went out and had fun?” he asked.

Colt tried to think of the real answer to that question.

“A year ago?” he asked rhetorically. “Maybe more. Before Amma got pregnant again, I guess. After that, it was all worry and doctor's appointments.”

“That's a long time, my friend,” James said casually.

It was a long time. After being with someone for so many years, it was hard being alone.

Losing Amma was hard, of course. Not having her spirit light up their house. Not having her expertise in their business. Not being able to watch her mother their children. Not seeing her smile or talking to her.

Having something to say, questions to ask, or witnessing something strange or funny and not being able to tell her about it wrenched his whole body.

But beyond missing Amma, it was difficult to be alone. Colt missed the way he used to feel when he came home after a long day. He missed the companionship and always having someone to go somewhere with.

He missed the small things, like having someone cook for you or sleeping close to another warm body.

With more curiosity in his tone than he had anticipated, he asked, “So, you've met this mystery girl?”

“Yep,” James nodded. “Very well acquainted with her. She and Whitney have been friends for a long time.”

“Yeah? Me and Whitney have been friends for a long time, too. Do I know this girl?”

“Well, she moved away so…” James trailed off.

Colt nodded, embarrassed to continue asking questions for fear that he might sound interested. “Is she...?”

“Hot?” James asked.

Colt nodded, and his friend scanned the crowds for any sign of Whitney. He brought his pointer finger and thumb together in a circle and nodded.

“Yeah, man,” James confirmed. “She's really good looking. Funny. All that good stuff.”

Silence filled the space between them once more as Colt thought on this.

“Am I selling you on her?” James asked.

“Not as a date. The last thing I want is to start dating someone.”

James nodded. “But as a...fun night out?”

“Maybe,” Colt said, noncommittal.

“If it makes you feel any better, I think Amma would want you to do this.”

Colt scoffed. “Amma would want me to go on a date with another woman? Kiss her goodnight? Have…” he cleared his throat humorously. “Ungentlemanly thoughts about her?”

His friend laughed. “She'd want you to be happy.”

Chapter Eight

Shelby

In the weeks that she had been working as a nanny for Colt’s children, Shelby had worked Monday through Friday, and sometimes Saturday mornings. She got her nights and most weekends to herself to do whatever she pleased.

This mid-week night she chose to spend at home with Whitney.

Her best friend had invited her boyfriend James over, and the three of them were going to spend the evening watching a movie about a missing person. This genre was about as close as Shelby ever got to any kind of horror or spooky thriller.

James was in the small kitchen getting a feast of snacks ready for the girls. They had kettle chips, gummy worms, sour keys, and three different kinds of popcorn—caramel, butter, and sour cream and onion.

Shelby wasn’t sure how well the palette of flavors would work together, but she was game to try.

Whitney was bundled up on one half of the couch with a blanket, waiting for James to come back. Shelby was on the other side of the couch with her own blanket, her legs crossed on the couch cushion.

“How’s life at the ranch?” James called from the kitchen before emerging with a platter of food.

“It's good,” Shelby nodded, her eyes wide with delight as she reached a hand up to steal a gummy worm from the plate. “Isaiah's been getting pretty busy. Colt signed him up for a bunch of classes.”

“Classes?” Whitney asked absent-mindedly as she pulled the movie up on the television screen. “Like, learning French?”

“No,” Shelby said. “Like swimming.”

“Ah,” James said. “Does Isaiah like it?”

Shelby shrugged. “I mean, he's learning to swim. He also goes on these little hikes. It's this program Hikes for Tikes. So they're trying to promote exercise in four- to seven-year-olds.”

“Meaning you get exercise,” Whitney said with a laugh, emphasizing the word ‘you.’

“I am definitely getting my steps in regularly,” Shelby mused.

“I think my little cousin is in that program, too,” James piped up, staring at the black screen in front of them, the movie set to pause. “They're trying to encourage kids to get out an explore instead of staying on their tablets all day long.”

“Well, it isn't working,” Shelby snorted. “Half of these kids bring phones or games with them anyway.”

“Darn kids,” Whitney teased.

Shelby knew her friend was only joking, but it was a shame. Shelby may have grown up in the internet age, but she wasn’t allowed on a computer outside of school until she was fourteen. She remembered the joys of spending time outside growing up. She remembered jump rope on the playground, hopscotch, going out in her dad’s boat, and riding horses.

She wished she could give Isaiah and baby Eleanor those same joys one day—to be able to experience the wild like you were absolutely free.

“Honestly, I think Colt just signed him up for this so that he doesn't have to spend any time with him,” Shelby admitted with more attitude than she meant to.

Whitney grimaced at the information, exchanging a pointed look with James.

“That's not a nice thing to say,” Whitney said.

“Well, Colt's not a very nice guy,” she replied.

“What?” Whitney said, her brows shooting up her forehead. “I thought you liked him!”

James looked over at Shelby, clearly feeling left out of the loop. “She does?” he asked.

“I don’t 'like him' like him,” she snapped quickly. “He’s alright. Nice enough and all that. But he doesn't seem even remotely interested in being around those kids.”

“I mean, the guy lost his wife. I'm sure the kids…” Whitney trailed off, unsure whether her train of thought was going to offend Shelby. After a moment of silence, the brunette continued, “I'm sure the kids bring back some painful memories right now.”

“I understand that,” Shelby said. She wrinkled her nose and then quickly corrected, “Actually no, I don't. He should be head over heels for those kids! They should remind him of his wife, and he should take joy in that.”

James went to say something, but Whitney cut him off, “Well, who knows what’s going through his mind. Everybody handles grief differently. He’s probably not as bad as you think.”

“I wish he were just a little more attentive to them,” Shelby said stubbornly.

She knew to Whitney and James it probably seemed like she was making a big deal out of nothing. But she spent day in and day out with those kids and it was only natural that she become protective of them. She saw the separation anxiety Eleanor had when her father left. She watched Isaiah dance around his father, practically begging for his attention.

Colt was busy, she understood that. In fact, she could probably never understand the pressure he was under, running his business alone. But she did know what it felt like to have a child. And she knew what it felt like to lose your spouse. Maybe not in the same way that Colt did, but her heart was broken just the same.

And even knowing how angry Andrew had made her and how he irreparably he had shattered her ability to love, she would never have taken those feelings out on Powell.

She would do anything to have one more hour with her baby. But she didn’t have that option. Colt did.

“They're just like these little figurines in his picture-perfect mansion. He's all about money. You can tell,” Shelby continued, unable to let the subject go.

“But I thought you had dinner there a few nights ago?” Whitney asked.

Shelby felt her face go pink with embarrassment. “I mean, it's not like I think he's a monster. He's a nice guy, just...” she finished with a shrug, unsure what else to say.

“So, nothing's going on there?” James asked before tossing a handful of popcorn into his mouth.

Shelby blinked in surprise and waited to see if he was kidding. He wasn’t.

“What?” she exclaimed with a laugh. “No! He's my boss!”

“Good,” Whitney said with a grin. “Because we want you to come out with us on Friday night. You're not working, right?”

“Yeah, I’m free. Sounds like fun!” Shelby said. “Where are we going?”

“Cowboy bar,” James said simply.

“I'll text you the address,” Whitney said, grabbing her cellphone. “And the menu.”

Shelby watched her phone screen light up. She grabbed the device and scrolled through Whitney’s text, checking the menu for the restaurant. “Looks cool,” she said, then exclaimed, “Oh, buffalo cauliflower bites. I love that stuff!”

“So good,” Whitney said, rolling her eyes back for emphasis.

“Who's all going?” Shelby asked.

Whitney tossed her phone back onto the coffee table and curled up against James. She rested her head on her boyfriend’s arm. “Well, it's going to be me, you, James,” she said, counting on her fingertips, “And probably one of James' friends.”

“Cool,” Shelby nodded.

The three of them continued to talk about work, friends, food, and then finally began playing the movie.

This always seemed to happen to the three friends. They would plan for a big movie night, make a buffet of snacks, and then end up talking the night away and devouring he snacks before they ever had to chance to hit play on the television.

It wasn’t until forty minutes into the movie that Shelby began dwelling on the Friday night invitation from earlier. James would be bringing a friend… or a setup?

“So when you say James is bringing a friend, you mean…?” Shelby blurted suddenly.

Whitney’s gaze found Shelby’s quickly, and she smiled in her sheepish way. “I mean a delightful new friend,” she said, enunciating nearly every word.

“So you mean date,” Shelby said flatly.

“Basically, yes,” Whitney smirked.

“And you don’t even just mean a date; you mean to set me up on a horrible double date?”

James snapped his fingers as if to say ‘Bingo!’ and said, “You've known her for too long.”

Shelby set her jaw. “And I think she's known me long enough to understand that I'm not ready for a relationship right now. What do you even know about this guy?”

“I've known him for a while now. Both of us have,” Whitney said, pausing the movie. “And I mean, he's good. He's very cute, good job, he's a cowboy—”

Shelby’s heart felt like it had clattered down her chest and landed hard in her stomach. “No! Nu-uh!” she said, waving her hands in the air. “Whitney, I just went through the worst divorce in the history of divorces with a cowboy, and I'm not exactly itching to jump back in with another one. Got it?”

“Well, maybe this one won't end up in a divorce,” she said playfully. “Think positive, girl!”

Shelby felt a genuine wave of anxiety wash over her. Whitney wasn’t taking her seriously.

“Or it won't end up as anything at all, because I'm not going,” she snapped.

“Oh, come on!” Whitney laughed like it was no big deal. “It's just a bunch of friends hanging out.”

Shelby rolled her eyes. “Yeah, until you and James go off to play pool or grab drinks and then are never heard from again.”

Whitney shook her head, still smiling. “You must think I'm really underhanded, Ms. Peters.”

“I’m not going,” she insisted.

“Fine! Fine!” Whitney relented. “We won't invite anyone else, okay? Just come out with us. You could use a little excitement.”

Shelby didn’t know whether she should believe her friend. Whitney had been encouraging her to join a dating app for weeks now.

“Really?” Shelby asked. “Promise me it’ll just be the three of us—and I mean it, Whit!”

Whitney nodded, seeming to get the drift. “I swear.”

Shelby met Whitney’s eyes and gave them a thorough search. It was the kind of search you could only do when you had been best friends with someone for many, many years.

Whitney seemed to be telling the truth.

“Alright,” Shelby relented. “I’ll be there after work. Now let’s finish this movie.”

Chapter Nine

Colt

“You have everything you need?” Shelby asked thoughtfully as Colt scrambled around the main floor of his home.

“Yep, I think so,” he said absent-mindedly.

He grabbed his wedding ring from the console table by the door and slipped it on. It was a habit he'd taken up doing ever since he got married. As soon as he got home from work, his ring came off. But if he had to leave the house for any reason, it slipped right back onto his finger like clockwork.

It was a habit he hadn't been able to give up since Amma's passing.

“And you're taking the kids to Reg and Cheryl’s...” Colt trailed off.

“In about fifteen minutes,” Shelby said.

Reg and Cheryl were friends of Colt and Amma. They also worked at Brookside Ranch and had a two-year-old and a five-year-old who Isaiah loved to play with. They offered to take the kids overnight, and Colt could hardly say no.

Isaiah could use a good cheering up, Colt thought. Besides, Reg and Cheryl's oldest would be starting kindergarten in just a few months and raved about his excitement to Isaiah every chance he got. Best to get Isaiah used to the idea now than have to fight him tooth and nail on it next year.

“Good,” Colt said. He checked his back pocket, finger, and front pocket as he began to recite “Phone, keys, wallet,” under his breath.

Shelby held Eleanor in her arms, his daughter seeming unbelievably calm with her nanny. He was almost afraid to kiss her goodbye, worried he would send her into a crying fit.

He opted out of the kiss and let Eleanor pull his finger into her little hands and then promptly into her mouth. He laughed as the saliva hit his skin and pulled away, stroking a clean finger up her soft cheek before tapping her on the nose.

“Have a good night,” he said to Shelby.

“Thanks,” she said. “You too.”

“Bye, Isaiah!” he called into the house before turning back to Eleanor. “Bye, sweetie.”

Colt opened the front door and was about to leave when he heard Shelby erupt into a fit of giggles. He spun on his heel and turned to look at her.

“Are you sure you aren't forgetting anything?” she asked with a laugh.

“No, why?”

Shelby readjusted Eleanor in her arms and nodded down towards Colt's feet.

He looked down and saw that he wasn't wearing any shoes. Just two, mismatched socks. One black, one orange.

“Oh boy,” he said, feeling his face burning red. “What's wrong with me tonight?”

“Yeah, what's got you all nerved up?” Shelby asked with a grin.

“No idea,” he lied.

“No?” she asked, tilting her head to the side.

“I think my brain knows I’m about to go do something really stupid,” he said.

“Ah,” she nodded. “And now it’s trying to prevent you from leaving by all means necessary?”

“Mainly through hurt and dirty feet, apparently,” he chuckled.

“Brains are tricky like that,” she said.

“Thanks for savin' me. I don't pay you enough,” he teased.

What did have him so nerved up? He thought about this for his whole drive.

To be happy seemed like such a foreign concept to Colt.

James seemed to imply that Amma would have wanted Colt to be happy—to move on from her.

But James didn’t know Amma the way Colt did.

It’s not that Amma was a monster or that she wanted Colt to continue in the state of mindless depression or hollow numbness he had been living in for the last eight months.

But Amma wouldn’t want him to be with someone else, either.

Amma planned a life with him. She started her family with Colt. Why would anyone think she would want Colt to pursue some other woman?

He denied Whitney’s invitation to be set up for a blind date.

But he had agreed to come out as a foursome with Whitney, James, and the girl in question that Friday night.

Tonight.

“I could be nice to have a new friend,” Whitney had argued.

It was a transparent argument. She just wanted to see if the pair had chemistry. He knew that.

Colt just wanted a fun night out with his friends, and if some new girl had to be there for it, so be it.

But he wasn’t looking to date. He wasn’t looking for love at all. Not now, not in a month from now, not in five years from now.

To prove it wasn’t a date, Whitney had chosen a run-down old burger joint as the location of their dinner. No candles, no ruffles. Just a regular old steak-and-burger cowboy joint.

That suited Colt just fine.

But then, why was he so nervous?

As usual, he was early to the restaurant.

Forty minutes early, to be exact.

Whenever he felt anxious about a social gathering, he would always show up extra early to give himself a chance to psyche himself up.

He had convinced himself that he didn’t care what this stranger thought of him, and yet he still found himself dwelling on questions like, what if she doesn’t find me attractive? What if she doesn’t like kids? What if she feels sorry for me or thinks that I’m just some sad, pathetic widower?

He had to keep reminding himself that these weren’t his thoughts to have.

Whoever this girl was, she meant nothing to him. She was just a fourth seat at a table.

He sat in his truck listening to the radio, only interrupted once when his phone went off twenty minutes before he was supposed to head into the restaurant.

He opened the text from Whitney, and it read: “Excited?”

“It’ll be a fun night,” he answered, noncommittal.

“We’ll be there in thirty. Gonna be just a few minutes late, sorry! Reservation’s under my name.”

“Not likely,” he responded.

Whitney just wanted him to have some alone time with her friend. He knew that much. But he could be social for ten minutes. That didn’t bother him.

“LOL! see you soon!” she responded, followed by about eight smiley faces.

Chapter Ten

Shelby

The bar was as Shelby expected.

She knew exactly what Whitney meant when she referred to it as a ‘cowboy bar.’ There were vertical wood-paneled walls, two long bar shelves of liquor—mostly whiskey—old wooden booths, and an immense collection of cowboy memorabilia lining the walls.

Shelby was surprised that a restaurant like this would take reservations. She approached the cowgirl hostess with a smile and said, “I have a reservation under Whitney Harding?”

“Right this way!” the hostess said cheerfully as she led Shelby to an old booth in the far corner of the restaurant. It appeared she was the first one there.

Loud country music played through the overhead speaker, and there were people standing up from their barstools and dancing.

Shelby watched them with mild interest, remembering what it was like to have someone to dance with. She remembered the glory days of having someone who made you feel so special, they could turn a honky-tonk bar into an unforgettable evening.

“Just got here,” she texted Whitney.

“We’ll be there in five! Can’t wait for those cauliflower bites :D,” her friend texted back excitedly.

After a few minutes of sitting alone, the waitress came over and brought a complimentary basket of pretzels to the table. Shelby smiled her thanks and took a bite of the salty snack.

Every time the front door would open, Shelby’s eyes would dart toward the hostess’ podium to see if it was her friends.

Her attention was caught when a handsome man walked in. He wore blue jeans, a short-sleeved button-up, and a cowboy hat. He had dark hair, tan skin, and an amazing jawline. He was so attractive, she couldn’t help but openly stare.

He was so familiar, but she couldn’t put her finger on how she knew him. Then it clicked. It was Colt Brooks.

Shelby’s heart raced as she stared at her boss. He looked so different without his beard. She’d never seen him clean-shaven before, so it took a second for his features to register with her.

“Oh my gosh,” she whispered to herself, sinking into her chair. This was so embarrassing.

Her embarrassment grew twofold as she heard the man say to the hostess, “I have a reservation. Should be under the name Whitney Harding.”

Shelby’s eyes went wide. Her brows shot up, and she watched with a wrinkled forehead as the hostess brought Colt up to the booth and announced that she would bring them a couple of menus.

“Shelby,” Colt said, his tone rising in confusion as he looked down at her. “What are you doing here?”

She wanted to crawl under her seat. “I'm...what are you doing here?

“Whitney invited me,” he said, raising a brow.

Shelby’s heart lilted. This was the guy Whitney was trying to set her up with? How did she even know Colt?

“You know Whitney?” she asked, and before he had the chance to answer, she blurted out, “I knew she was going to do this!”

“How do you know Whitney?” Colt asked, still deciding whether or not he should sit down.

“I've been friends with her for years. When I moved back to Carrin, I moved in with her.”

“You live with her?” he repeated in surprise. “Above the diner?”

Shelby nodded and pulled at her shirt, suddenly embarrassed she didn’t put more into her outfit for the night. She foolishly believed Whitney when she said it would only be the three of them at dinner and so opted for a pair of jean shorts and a ribbed bodysuit that didn’t do anything for her figure.

“Just for the record,” she said in a small voice, not looking up at him, “I did not agree to a setup.”

“This wasn't exactly what I was expecting, either,” Colt said.

Colt’s phone began to vibrate, and he pulled it out of his pocket. Shelby watched his eyes scan the message on his screen. He flipped the phone around and showed it to Shelby. It was a message from Whitney that said: “Sorry! Can’t make it. Have fuuun!”

Shelby’s boss shook his head and let out a breathy laugh. “Looks like we both got played,” he said.

“I am so mad right now,” Shelby said, setting her jaw.

“Can I get you something to drink?” the waitress asked, her voice all sugar as she bounced up to their table.

“No, no. We're not staying,” Colt said. Then he met Shelby’s eyes and asked, “Are we?”

“No,” she shook her head. This was beyond inappropriate. “We can't.”

“Though,” he said, crossing his arms.

“Though?”

Colt shrugged. “I am starving.”

“Yeah, me too. Did you want to sit?” she offered awkwardly.

Colt studied her body language and sat down unsurely. Then he nodded and said, “One meal won't hurt.”

“Great!” the waitress said. “Here are your menus. What can I get you to start?”

“I’ll have a water,” Colt said, slipping his cowboy hat off and resting it on the hook on the side of their booth—probably installed there for that very reason.

“And a sweet tea,” Whitney added.

Colt looked at her, his bright brown eyes studying her. He offered her a charming smile. One that said ‘Ah, what the heck’ and turned to the waitress. “And a rum and Coke.”

“Two, please,” Shelby added.

“Now we’re talking,” Colt said.

If this were a date, she would think it was cute and flirty of her to chime in and order the same drink as her date. But this wasn’t a date; this was the world’s most awkward dinner with her boss.

The waitress bounded off, and Shelby opened the sticky pages of the menu. She glanced over the options and wondered if it would still be appropriate to order the cauliflower wings. They would be a bit of a mess, which wouldn’t be very lady-like.

But then again, this wasn’t a date, so Shelby could behave normally.

This thought calmed her down. She felt like she was able to breathe and relax for a moment. There would be no sweet-girl pretense or pressure to be engaging or likable. She could just be herself.

“So, how do you know Whitney?” she asked.

“She was one of the first people I met when I moved to Carrin,” Colt said. “I was an obsessive patron of her diner while we were just opening up the ranch.”

“Small world,” she mused.

“Yeah,” he said with a laugh. He still seemed just as shocked as she was. “And then I met James, and we've been buddies for years. We play football together sometimes he helps out at the ranch. Yeah, they're great.”

“Agreed.”

“Just not tonight,” he added. “Tonight, they are in my bad book.”

“Agreed,” she giggled. “So, Mr. Brooks, tell me, why were you so opposed to this setup?”

“It's not like they told me it was you, so don't be offended,” he explained.

“No, of course not,” she said, waving her hands. “I didn't want to be here either.”

The waitress arrived back at the table with their drinks and asked what they would like to eat. Shelby did one order of cauliflower wings as an appetizer and a burger and side salad as her meal. Colt ordered steak and salad, then commented to her after the waitress left that he wasn’t expecting much from the steak.

She supposed that would be the assessment when you produced some of the best beef in Texas.

“Well, anyway,” Colt said, resuming their conversation as the waitress left them. “I'm just…” he trailed off, then shrugged. “I’m just not looking to date. Not now and not ever. I have my priorities and falling in love isn't one of them.”

“Same. Big time,” she said. She pressed her lips thin and looked down at her drink. Somehow it felt wrong drinking in front of her boss.

Shelby wanted to ask him questions about his wife. She didn’t know anything about her, except that she passed away. She wanted to know more about his life if only to understand his children better, but she wasn’t sure how well he would receive the question.

Then again, she hated when someone’s spouse passed away and then everybody acted like that person never existed. Instead of including the widow or widower in the conversation, they try to shield them from the pain by excluding them altogether.

She didn’t want to pretend his wife didn’t exist.

“How long were you together?” she asked bravely, her tone completely casual. “With your wife?” she added.

Colt didn’t even flinch. With little emotion, he said, “We met when we were both twenty-one, and she died when she was twenty-seven, right after having Eleanor.”

He proceeded to tell her about his wife’s rare condition. His tone was so factual, it was like he was a doctor listing off a patient’s facts to her. She knew the game well from Andrew. This was what it was like trying to talk to a real cowboy. Impossible to get any real emotion from him.

“That must have been hard,” she prodded.

“It was. It is. So, as you can imagine, love isn't high on my list of priorities right now,” Colt said. “Besides, the ranch takes up so much of my time. I barely have time for my kids.” He paused, studying her face. Then he smiled and said, “As I'm sure you've noticed.”

Shelby had noticed, but she wasn’t about to lecture her boss about childrearing. She didn’t have the right to tell anybody how to parent.

“You have a lot of responsibility,” she said.

“I hope Isaiah isn't too much of a handful for you.”

Shelby smiled, reflecting on the little ball of energy she was responsible for looking after. “He was at first, but he seems to realize that I'm not going anywhere anytime soon, so I think he knows he's stuck with me,” she laughed. “We have our good days and bad.”

“And Eleanor?”

“She's a sweetheart,” Shelby smiled. “She misses you when you're gone.”

“Amma wanted kids. Amma,” he explained, “that's my wife. Yeah, she was the one who wanted to try again for Eleanor. She wanted a little girl. Girl and a boy, picture-perfect family and all that.”

“Did you like kids before you met her?”

“Oh yeah,” Colt smiled, and she felt immediately drawn to him. “But I was raised in a big family. Six boys, one girl. Two crazy parents. So I was used to the chaos. I just didn't think I would be doing all the chaos without her.”

“That's hard,” she sympathized.

“It is, which is why I appreciate you being around so much. It was all just getting to be...too much. And now I feel like when I come home, I'm not so stressed. Now I actually have the headspace to really talk to them. You have no idea what these last few weeks have been like. What a good change it's been, I mean.”

“I'm glad to hear it,” Shelby said. “Also, I can’t imagine growing up with six siblings. I have a younger brother, and that was bad enough! Did you guys all get along?”

“Did six brothers all get along?” he said with some amusement, running his hand across his perfectly pointed lips. “Hardly! We all scrapped and fought over girls and attention and who was, you know, the biggest man and all that. But then my mom had Kennedy.”

“Younger brother?”

Colt chuckled and shook his head. “Little sister. She’s eighteen, so that’s a fourteen-year age difference between her and the oldest, Jett. At first, we were all horrified, right? My mom was thirty-four and pregnant, and we were like, come on, Mom! How many more do you need? But when she had Kennedy, it was like we all clicked.”

“That’s so interesting,” Shelby said. “Why do you think things changed?”

“It was a girl,” he said with a grin. “We had a little sister to protect. We all came together after that. I don’t know; it was weird.”

“No, it’s adorable,” she teased.

Colt shook his head, suddenly embarrassed. “So, what about you, Shelby? How come you were so opposed to this blind date?”

“I mean,” she snorted, “it's a blind date. Isn't that the very definition of a bad time?”

“Hardly!”

Shelby’s eyes went wide with amusement. “Really?” she asked. “Name me one couple who you know—personally—who has ever had a successful blind date!”

“Okay, um...Oh! Pam and Eddie!” he said, snapping his fingers.

The waitress brought out the cauliflower bites and left the table. Colt didn’t wait to stab his fork into one of the faux chicken wings and pop it into his mouth.

“You're making that up!” she insisted.

“No, I swear!” Colt exclaimed playfully. “They were set up on a blind date by Pam's cousin. So, Pam was really broke, right? But she spent what little savings she had on a new dress. She basically raved about this dress to everybody who would listen. Then she meets Eddie at this little diner, and they have the best time. They both order the same meal, they are finishing each other's sentences, all that jazz.”

“Uh-huh,” Shelby said as she popped one of the spicy bites into her mouth. She loved how the barbecue sauce, the ridged texture of the vegetable, and the blue cheese dipping sauce all mingled together in her mouth. This was the flavor she had been craving all day.

Colt continued, “At the end of the night, Eddie is so head over heels for this girl already, but he works out on the water. So he says, ‘Pam, I'm in love with you.’ He tells her that if she sees any future with him, any future at all, that's she'll meet him at the docks in the morning with a packed suitcase and run away with him.”

“No,” Shelby said, rolling her eyes, not believing a word of the story. “He didn't.”

“He did!” Colt chuckled. “And guess who shows up the next morning with a big blue suitcase?”

“Pam?” she asked, smiling.

“Pam!” he repeated, smacking the table lightly.

“And then what happened to them?”

Colt shrugged, going back in for another bite. “Nobody knows,” he said with a mouthful of food.

Feeling pulled into the story now, Shelby frowned and said, “What do you mean nobody knows? Did they die?”

“They sailed off on Ole Geronimo,” he explained, using his hands to enunciate his story. “That’s a fishing boat. After that, nobody ever heard from them again.”

“You're lying!” Shelby exclaimed, nearly rolling over with laughter. “This story isn't real!”

“I swear!” he said. “It was my grandpa's brother. Edward Brooks! He set sail with Pamela Burton on July twelfth, nineteen-forty-six. Never to be heard from again.”

Shelby leaned back in her chair. “You're telling me that, first of all, the only successful blind date story you've ever heard ends with the couple disappearing into the night, never to contact their friends, family, and loved ones ever again? And second, you're admitting that yes, they really could be dead?”

Colt shrugged again, and he looked impossibly handsome. “I guess I am.”

“I reject this story,” she said, crossing her arms.

“You can't reject it; it's a fact!” he laughed.

“Meet me on the docks,” she scoffed. “It's so made up!”

To Shelby’s surprise, as the night went on, their banter was easy, charming, and entirely too flirtatious for her liking. She hadn’t come out expecting to connect with someone, let alone her boss.

As much as she tried to push the thought to the back of her mind, the night felt like a date. And not just any date, but an amazing first date. The two had so much chemistry, it was practically lighting up their booth with a romantic glow.

After dinner, the two went for a walk down by the water. The night was warm, but the breeze off the water was cool. When Shelby shivered, Colt put his arm around her and rubbed her arm.

“I’m sorry I don’t have a jacket to offer you,” he lamented.

Colt was so different from what Shelby had expected. It turned her stomach

He turned and looked at her, towering over her, handsome and broad and perfect, and she thought for sure he would lean down and kiss her.

She wanted to appreciate Whitney's gesture, but she couldn't help wondering what her friend was thinking, trying to set Shelby up with her own boss.

It was wrong, and not in a naughty, fun way. Shelby was more financially stable now as Colt's nanny than she had been while working at the doctor's office. She was paying off her debts and finally felt like her life was coming back together. She couldn't risk all of that for Colt, not even for his beautiful eyes or perfect lips.

Somehow sensing this, or perhaps having the same thoughts himself, Colt didn’t kiss her.

“You know, for the record, nothing can happen here, right?” he said softly.

“Oh, absolutely. You're my boss; I'm your nanny,” she said, showing her palms to him and waving them. “It’s…”

“Inappropriate,” they said at the same time.

Chapter Eleven

Colt

Colt couldn’t stop thinking about his night with Shelby the day before. The two had been out for hours, talking and laughing together. It felt nice to make a new friend.

He thought about it so much that he felt like he was under a constant state of distraction that day at work. He was supposed to be running one of the horseback riding activities and was so caught up thinking about his nanny that he’d led twenty people off in the absolute wrong direction and off the trail.

Thankfully, he knew his ranch well enough to pass it off as a special excursion to the ponds, instead of along the usual dirt trail.

When the activity was over, guests raved about the extra thirty minutes they’d gotten with no charge.

Colt got back to his office in the main lodge and caught up on some e-mails before looking at the clock. It was two hours until his friend’s wedding.

Against his better judgment, he picked up the office phone and called Shelby.

“Hello?” she greeted.

“Hey, stranger,” he said in a nervous cowboy twang.

“Oh, hey,” she said, sounding pleasantly surprised. “Is everything okay?”

“What? Oh yeah, of course,” he dismissed quickly. “I was just wondering if you wanted to come out with Whitney, James, and myself tonight?”

Shelby was quiet. “You mean like a date?” she asked.

“No, like a friendly hangout. There's this big wedding at Brookside. Very casual. I was hoping you might want to join us for the festivities. It's a buddy of mine getting married, and I know he won't mind a few familiar faces there. I'm bringing the kids. There's going to be great food from our restaurant; should be a lot of fun.”

He felt like he was rambling. His did this often when he was nervous, though why he should be nervous he didn't know.

“And Whitney and James are definitely going to be there this time?” she asked with a laugh.

Colt snorted. “They'd better be.”

“Alright, it sounds like fun,” she said casually. “What should I wear?”

“Cowboy boots,” he said playfully. “And a nice dress.”

Colt told her he’d send a car to pick up her, Whitney, James, and the kids. She seemed to be under the impression that he was inviting her to watch the children for him and suddenly he wondered if she was expecting to get paid for this. He supposed he should explain to her when he saw her that this would not be the case, though that whole conversation in itself seemed like an awkward one to have.

Maybe he would just bite the bullet and pay her.

The next two hours dragged on, and Colt couldn’t wait until the festivities started.

Khayr and Marina were the couple getting married. Colt had known Khayr for a couple of years. When they had come to do the consultation for the venue, both Khayr and his wife-to-be decided that they wanted the natural beauty of the ranch to shine through. While they had created a rustic archway for them to be married under, the rest was simple.

No flowers were lining the walkway, no decorated chairs for the guests. There was just the rolling green of the ranch and the beautiful blue summer sky behind them.

The reception would be a different story. It was being held in a clearing designed for big events, and they'd pulled out a dance floor and thousands of string lights to hang across the sky like stars.

Eventually, Colt’s secretary informed him that his children had arrived and that it was almost time for the wedding.

“Welcome to the ranch,” Colt said as he welcomed his guests.

James greeted him with a hello, and Shelby just nodded in his direction and offered him a shy smirk. He had to hand it to her: for giving her such short notice, she looked stunning.

She wore her pale blonde hair up in an intricately braided style, and she wore a long, gauzy emerald-green dress and white cowgirl boots. She must have been wearing contacts because this was the first time he'd ever seen her without her oversized glasses on. He'd never noticed how blue her eyes were before.

“Hey, buddy,” he said to his son, giving him a fist-bump.

“Well, if it isn't our little star-crossed lovers,” Whitney said with a proud smile on her face as she gestured to the pair as he took Eleanor from Shelby's arms.

“Yeah, real funny Whitney,” he snorted. Do you know I almost—”

“Save it,” Whitney laughed heartily. “Shelby already gave me a talking to when she got home, okay? I've learned my lesson. I am the Wicked Witch of the North, or whatever! Never again will I meddle in your business.” She set her hand on her heart and promised, “This I swear.”

“Wow, she really must have given it to you,” Colt said with a bright smile.

“I spared no insult,” Shelby laughed.

“Really, Colt. You wouldn’t believe the mouth on this one,” Whitney teased. “You shouldn't let her around your precious little munchkins.”

“Whitney!” Shelby said, looking horrified.

“What?” she giggled wickedly. “I'm only kidding!”

“If anybody asks,” Colt half-teased, “you work here, got it?”

His group of friends nodded, and it was the first time he wondered if he shouldn’t have invited so many people. Then again, he knew Khayr and Marina wouldn’t mind. They were a ‘more the merrier’ type of couple. Besides, he wasn’t just at the wedding to oversee it; he was a guest here. And if he wanted to bring his children, nanny, and two best friends along as his plus ones, he felt entitled to that.

The friends took their seats at the back as the procession began.

The groom was at the end of the walkway, looking enamored and nervous as the bride began coming down the aisle on a white horse. The train of her white dress draped off the horse as she rode side-saddle.

Khayr helped her down, his first gentlemanly gesture as a soon-to-be newlywed, and the couple immediately embraced.

Colt sat with Eleanor in his arms, and she was cooing contentedly. Every so often, she would look up at him in wonder, and he would be reminded of Amma. Shelby was to his left in the aisle seat. She was watching the couple intensely as they exchanged their vows.

“I, Marina Allen, take you, Khayr Antoun, to be my lawfully wedded husband. To have and to hold, in sickness and in health, from this day forward I do swear. I take you to be my friend and partner, my closest confidant, and my only lover—”

Colt smiled as he watched his friends express their love for one another, though part of him couldn’t help but reflect on his relationship with Amma.

There was something bittersweet about watching two people commit their lives to one another when you were alone.

Colt glanced at Shelby. She looked upset. Her eyes filled with tears, though whether this was just a natural reaction to weddings or if she was thinking of her own experiences in love, he couldn’t say.

Before long, Shelby excused herself from the ceremony, and Colt’s eyes followed her along the back where she escaped into the distance.

He felt antsy but knew he had to wait until they had finished their vows before he could check on her.

When the couples finished saying ‘I do,’ Colt excused himself, asking James to watch Isaiah and Eleanor while he went to find Shelby.

He found Shelby, but it took a while. She was inside the luxury stables.

The outside of the stables looked like a giant cottage mansion. The front had a stone façade and stone pillars. It had a thatched roof and a large walkway leading up to the building.

Inside, there was an immense utility room and tack room. There was seating, washing stations, an immense sink, and anything else one could ever need to take care of the horses.

He stepped further into the stables to where the horses were kept. There was faux marble brick flooring and stylish wood beams lining the ceiling along with chandelier lighting and oval-topped doors. He had made sure he spared no expense when it came to his horses.

Outside the massive stables was an immense outdoor all-weather arena for the horses.

Colt saw Shelby near the dark stable gate of his favorite horse.

“That’s midnight,” he said with ease as he walked up next to her.

Shelby wiped a tear from her eye. She kept her gaze fixed on the horse as she said, “He’s beautiful.”

Colt nodded. “He is,” he said. “Want a closer look?”

“Sure,” she said quietly.

He stepped beside her and unlatched the gate to Midnight’s stable. She walked in behind him and Midnight connected with them immediately. He pushed his nose against Colt’s hands and let out a contented breath.

“He's a wild one,” he said, nodding toward the beast.

Colt didn’t want to completely ignore the fact that she was crying, but he knew she was probably embarrassed. If their roles were reversed, he wouldn’t want a near-stranger—let alone his boss—prying for personal details about why he was crying. He would want someone to distract him.

“Does he ride out with the guests much?” she asked.

“If he feels like it. Midnight does what midnight wants, so we work around his mood, if you can believe it. Never says no to me, though.”

“I'm sure that's a common thing for you,” she teased lightly.

“To have a horse's undying loyalty or to have lackeys who are unable to say no to me due to my wealth and power?” he chuckled.

Shelby laughed. “I wouldn’t exactly phrase it that way.”

“No, you’ll just think it,” he said, nudging her. “Hey, are you okay?”

“Yeah, just…” Shelby shrugged. “Weddings.”

Colt nodded. She didn’t need to explain. “You want to go for a ride? Get out of here?”

She looked at him curiously and asked, “Won't your guests mind?”

“Ah, I'm a drop in the ocean to them. They won't even notice I'm gone.”

She smiled, seeming to brighten a touch. “Alright,” she said. “Let’s go.”

Colt brought Midnight out of the stables and helped Shelby up. He sat behind her and with one loud, ‘Yah!’ Midnight took off down the trail.

The steed followed the usual path, going along the endless ranch property until they reached a clearing outside of some woods. The whole valley smelled of fresh-cut grass and evergreens.

“Your ranch is absolutely amazing,” Shelby said, breathless as she looked around. “I never really got the chance to tour it like this. It’s beautiful.”

“Your riding skills are absolutely amazing,” he complimented.

“Thanks. My dad used to have horses. My parents used to live in Texas. They're in New York now, so we've had to sell their horses,” she explained. “I certainly couldn't afford to keep them.”

“Any interest in getting another one?” he asked.

“Oh, I'd love to. But I don't think a horse would fit in my closet at Whitney's house,” she snorted.

“Well, I'm sure you'll be out of there in no time,” he said. He was certainly paying her enough to get her own apartment.

“Yeah. That's the thing,” she began slowly as they trotted through the property. “I'm not sure I want to leave. I don't do well with quiet.”

“Then you must love it at my house,” he joked.

He couldn’t see it, but he could tell from her tone that she was smiling. “Unless James and Whitney get engaged or he moves in, I think I'll just stay put,” Shelby said. “For a little while, anyway.”

“Fair enough,” he nodded.

Colt closed his fingers and squeezed Midnight’s reigns just a touch, pulling them back until the horse came to a halt. When he did, Colt dismounted and helped Shelby down.

“Feels nice to stretch my legs,” she said, rubbing at her thigh.

“I forget not everyone has a tolerance for the cowboy stance,” he said, mimicking an overdramatic cowboy walk. She laughed, and it made him happy to see her smile.

“I'll tell you what, Shelby,” he said without thinking. “If you ever decide that you love the apartment life but miss the riding, you can store your horse here at the ranch. We'll board him.”

“Or her,” she winked.

“Or her!” he repeated happily. “Free of charge, no problem.”

“Seriously?”

“I've been thinking of adding another girl to the family,” he said, raising a shoulder. “Maybe you can come help me pick her out sometime. We'll make a special stable with your name on it. That way she'll know she's not a wild horse. She belongs to someone.”

Shelby’s face seemed to glow as she looked up at him. “That's...so incredible. I don't know what to say. Thank you,” she said.

Colt nodded, feeling overwhelmed by his attraction to his nanny. He took a step back and looked out in the distance. “We should head back,” he suggested.

By the time they had gotten back to the wedding, the reception had already begun. Colt made sure he docked the meals for himself and his friends and set up an extra table for his wedding-crashers.

The meal was incredible, as was the reputation of his ranch restaurant.

After dinner, the dancing began.

Whitney and James were always good for this. Slow or fast dancing, they were up for it. During a slower song, Colt worked up the nerve to get on the dancefloor.

He looked at Shelby and smiled. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m about to ask the most beautiful girl in the world for a dance.”

She looked at him curiously and clapped her hands joyously when she saw him scoop Eleanor up and walk her out to do a daddy-daughter slow dance. To his surprise, Shelby joined them on the floor, ‘dancing’ with Isaiah.

“Switch!” Whitney shouted as the next song came on. She grabbed Isaiah and James took Eleanor, blatantly leaving Colt and Shelby without partners.

Colt extended his hand to the stunning blonde in front of him, and she slipped her delicate fingers into his palm. He pulled her close, dangerously close, and whispered in her ear, “Hey, I never got to drill you about our non-date.”

“What about it?” she asked.

“I told you why I was so opposed to the date. What about you?” he nodded toward her. “You seriously had no desire to get out and meet someone new? Start planning your future getaway from Whitney's apartment?”

“Not especially,” she grinned. “I think I've had enough cowboy adventures for one lifetime, anyway. No offense.”

“Ouch,” he said. “Bad experience?”

Her eyes went comically wide as she said, “Beyond bad. We were married. We met when I was twenty-two; we were divorced twenty-five.”

“You're twenty-five now, right?”

“That's right,” she confirmed.

“What happened?”

“He worked on a ranch,” she said, as though that answered everything. “Nothing even close to this. He was a stable boy, but it sucked up a lot of his time.”

“So, this split was pretty recent, then?”

She nodded. “It was just a couple of months ago. We had a...well, something happened that we couldn't seem to get over.”

Colt couldn’t imagine a marriage failing so soon. He didn’t ask what happened that they couldn’t get over. Couples could find a myriad of things to argue over if they put their minds to it. But cheating, he assumed, was the most obvious reason why they might get a divorce.

“And eventually he told me he wanted out,” she explained. “He told me I was a selfish person, and he needed to find someone easy to be with. Actually, correction,” she laughed spitefully, “he told me he already found someone else. Some country bumpkin from the ranch.”

“Strike-two for the ranch life,” he said.

“Yeah. And you know, it wasn't even just the cheating; it was all the other cowboy bull.”

“Cowboy bull?” he repeated, amused.

“Yeah, you know. That stoic kind of guy. The 'I don't have to tell you my feelings because I'm a cowboy' and the 'Buck up' when you're crying attitude. He just kept to himself. Emotionally, I mean. And I think that's what really ended up driving us apart.”

Colt raised a brow. “More than the cheating?”

“I mean, I wasn't exactly happy about that either, don’t get me wrong. But he was at his worst, and he made a mistake. What kind of wife would I be if I couldn't forgive that?”

“Seems like the ultimate betrayal to me,” Colt said.

He couldn’t imagine how he would have felt if Amma had cheated on him. Didn’t that tear down the very essence of what your relationship was? How could you ever go back to your partner feeling like you had something special after knowing they did something like that to you?

“It is,” she agreed. “But I could have let it go.”

“If what?” he asked.

Shelby swayed to the music. The light of the sunset behind them caught her eyes, causing the normally blue irises to look a deep gray-purple.

“If he still loved me,” she admitted.

“What makes you so sure that he didn't?” he asked.

Shelby’s eyes filled with tears, but they didn’t fall. “Trust me,” she said with a bitter smile. “A woman knows.”

“I'm sorry,” he said, swaying with her to the music behind them. “That's awful. Your ex sounds like a real piece of work.”

“Sometimes I wonder if maybe I deserved it,” she said with the verbal equivalent of a shrug.

Her statement caught Colt by surprise. He felt a catch in his throat at the idea that anybody would deserve to be treated so poorly.

“Why?” he asked, but Shelby didn’t answer.

“I can't think of any reason why someone as sweet and kind as you would ever deserve to be treated like second best,” he said firmly. “I may not know you that well, Shelby, but I see what you give to my kids. If you gave even half of that to your ex, then he didn't deserve you. Not the other way around.”

Shelby’s expression remained unchanged. She was far from convinced by Colt’s words.

“So, you're calling off love?” he asked.

The blonde smiled and nodded, looking up at him. “I'm calling it off!” she said playfully, despite the tears in her eyes.

Colt leaned close to her ear and whispered, “Then I'm calling it off with you.”

“Solidarity,” she brightened. “Sounds like a deal to me.”

Chapter Twelve

Shelby

Shelby couldn’t sleep. Her mind was a haze of memories, whizzing by like pages of a photo album. Just as she went to grab a memory and reflect on it, a hand would turn the page and other conversations, smells, and feelings would come into view.

She opened her eyes and stared up at the ceiling above her. They were white square tiles. The kind you could push up and hide something in. She wondered if Whitney had hidden anything in the ceiling. Probably not.

Shelby thought about the non-date night she had shared with Colt. Then she thought about the wedding and how sweet he had been to her. He didn’t judge her or shame her for her feelings.

But they were both broken, she supposed, and you don’t judge someone for breaking when you yourself are shattered.

Her thoughts trailed to the kids, Isaiah and Eleanor, and how good they had been for her that day. Then she thought about Powell and Andrew and the little family she had created, only to watch it disappear in front of her eyes.

Andrew worked hard for their family, but he was gone a lot. He worked long hours and rarely came home to help with Powell, not even after he was first born. She understood at the time that they couldn’t afford for him to miss work, especially with her taking maternity leave, but she was left alone a lot and she was exhausted.

She’d come into the habit of taking Powell into bed with her. She was a light sleeper, so it was easy for her to wake up and check on him if he stirred. She’d even set up a wall of pillows against the edge of the bed as a protective measure.

Shelby had been up for days straight, with only the sparse nap in-between feedings, and she was beyond tired. She didn’t know humans could be that tired.

She lay Powell down next to her and drifted off for what only felt like a minute. But when she woke up, Powell had passed away.

Shelby blamed herself, as any mother would. She insisted she must have accidentally rolled on him, covered him with a blanket, or that he’d been smothered somehow.

But no. Doctors, her therapist, friends, family, and the official autopsy all said the same thing. It was SIDS.

No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t wrap her conscience around it.

She’d gone into a fog.

“It’s not enough,” Andrew said after he’d tossed the divorce papers onto her lap. “I need someone who can be there for me.”

“Be there for you?” she repeated, incensed. “Be there for you?” she said again, louder this time. “If you were there for me, none of this would have happened!”

Andrew spun on his heel, his eyes dark and pained. He tried his best to stay calm as he said, “That's not fair, Shelby. I have never blamed you, not once have I ever, ever blamed you for what happened.”

“He's dead,” she said harshly. She wanted him to blame her. She wanted someone to be responsible for what happened.

She’d never seen Andrew yell until that night. He screamed at her, “It was an accident!”

Her eyes went wide and filled with tears at the sudden outburst. Andrew pressed his lips thin and wouldn’t break eye-contact with her as he snapped, “If you could just accept that fact, maybe, just maybe I would have gotten my wife back.”

She inhaled sharply, incredulous. “It’s only been three months, Andrew. I need time. I need to process this and get over it and heal.”

“Well now you have all the time you want,” he said, staring at her.

He watched her long enough to make sure she comprehended what he was saying to her. When he was sure she had, he nodded and walked into their bedroom.

Shelby followed him down the hall and watched as he began filling a duffel bag with his clothes.

“You're leaving?” she asked. “You're just going to go? Just like that?”

“I told you, I want a divorce.”

“Talk to me, Andrew,” she begged, unsure whether to cry or scream or be kind. “Tell me what you're thinking!”

He never did. Andrew lived by the cowboy code, and the cowboy code dictated that you were a man. And men don’t talk about their feelings.

There were positive parts of this code, of course. She always felt safe and protected around Andrew. He never let on if he was worried and she always knew that they would be okay.

Until that moment.

“I can tell you what I'm feeling,” she said, raising a hand over her head and bursting into tears. “I feel alone. Ever since Powell died, I feel alone. I feel like you and everyone else in the world has moved on, and I'm the only one who remembers that three months ago, we had a baby.”

“You want me to talk?” he asked, furiously throwing a shirt into the bag before turning to her, his eyes angry and far away. “Alright, how’s this?” he seethed. “I can't stand being around you anymore. Being with you is like living in a time warp of the worst day of my life,” he cursed. “It's unbearable.”

Shelby felt the tears spill down her cheeks, but she didn’t register the sadness she felt. She didn’t feel anything.

“It's unbearable?” she repeated, both taken aback and offended by the comment.

“Unbearable,” he repeated with emphasis. “I can't take all these details. I remember Powell, of course I do. But I don't need to remember every little thing about him, Shell. I don't need to know that his face was blue or recount the way he looked when you found him dead. I don't need to relive you screaming in my ear when I answered the phone at work. It makes me sick.”

She cried then, hard. “Where are you going to go?”

“Harper’s,” he said, resuming his packing.

“Harper, as in Matilda Harper?” she winced. “From the ranch?”

Andrew didn’t look at her. “As in that Harper, yes.”

For the first time in months, Shelby felt something other than guilt. Her whole body lit up with goosebumps as though an unseen chill had washed over her.

“Are you sleeping with her?” she asked so softly, she didn’t know if Andrew even heard her.

He went stiff-backed. He gripped a pair of soft joggers in his fist and turned his profile to her, no longer willing to make eye-contact.

“Yes,” he said.

He made a mistake, she forced herself to think. We can fix this. We can fix everything that’s broken.

“For how long?” she tried to ask calmly.

“Since...that night.”

Her calm faded from her and she finally felt the fury swarm over her body. She could feel her heart suddenly pulsing through her chest. “That night?” she repeated, walking closer to him as the realization kicked in. “That night...that night?” she kept repeating, getting angrier each time she said the words. She smacked him on the arm until he finally met her eyes, and she seethed, “The night our son died, you slept with another woman?”

Andrew looked stricken. He looked down, then quickly found her eyes. The guilt on him was overwhelming.

“When? Why?” she asked in quick succession.

“When I went to get your mom’s overnight bag,” he said lowly.

She set her jaw. “Why?” she repeated, her tone harsher.

He swallowed hard. “I just needed to feel something else.”

She screamed at him then. Shelby had never been a violent person in her life, but she had smacked him so hard, she felt her palm sting for days. She slapped his cheek and beat him on the chest in a heap of sobs until he grabbed her hands and forced her into his arms.

The truth was, she believed she deserved that. She deserved to be left by the person she loved—the person she needed the most. He had trusted her with their most precious possession, and she had failed him.

She just wished it didn’t hurt so much.

“You blame me, don't you, Andrew?” she had asked later than night, and he seemed surprised by the question.

“That's the thing, Shell,” he said. “I don't talk because you don't listen.”

Shelby had been wild ever since that night. It was just a couple of months, and she felt completely rootless.

She had no more son. She was no longer a mother.

She had no husband. She was no longer a wife.

They’d taken a second mortgage out on her bungalow so Andrew could invest it in the ranch. Now she had no way to pay it off.

Her whole life fell apart.

As much as she felt she deserved Andrew’s cold shoulder at the time, her feelings on the matter had soon become torn. She didn’t know how someone who claimed to love her could abandon her when she needed him so badly.

The buzzing of Shelby’s cellphone shook her out of her memories, and she snapped back to attention. She grabbed the device off the nightstand and saw that it was Colt calling. She answered, and he said, “Hey, I’m sorry, did I wake you?”

“No, actually,” she said, wide-awake. “Is everything okay?”

“I was wondering,” Colt began awkwardly, and she could hear Eleanor screeching in the background.

“Look,” he said, exhaling his pride. “I know you get nights off, but Eleanor is crying, and I can't get her to stop. And I don't want you to think this is me, bumbling dad, unable to take care of my daughter, or that I called you the second she started to cry. This has been going on six hours now, nonstop. I've tried feeding her, changing her, I've had a doctor on call, and he said she's fine. She just won't stop and you're so good with her—”

“—I'll be there in twenty minutes,” she said quickly.

“Are you sure? I can send a car to come to pick you up if you don't want to dri—”

“No, it's okay,” she said. “I'll see you soon.”

Chapter Thirteen

Colt

Colt’s head was pounding. Eleanor had been screaming for hours. It was nearly half-past three in the morning, and this cowboy’s patience had long worn thin. His only relief came when he heard the door downstairs open and promptly click shut again.

Shelby had arrived.

He rocked Eleanor in his arms and walked out into the hallway. Shelby was coming up the stairs.

The blonde wore her hair up in a messy bun. She had on a pair of pale green leggings and a burnt orange t-shirt, and Colt wondered if they were the same clothes Shelby had been sleeping in.

“Thank you so much, Shelby,” he said, sounding guilty. “I just can't take it anymore. I feel like crying, and I never feel like crying.”

“It's no problem,” she said quietly. He could barely hear her over Eleanor’s screeches.

“She's only stopped twice since you left,” he said, walking back into his daughter’s nursery. “And that's when she's literally cried herself to sleep.”

Colt knew parents who have said that before. With a playful roll of the eyes and maybe a chuckle they would relate, ‘She cried until she passed out!’

To hear it from a friend, it sounded like a humorous parental anecdote. But seeing it in real life...it made your heart stop. Eleanor cried until her face turned red. She cried until her voice was so hoarse, she had no voice left. She cried until she threw up.

“Let me see,” Shelby said. She walked close to Colt and brushed her fingers up against Eleanor’s cheek. “Hey, sweet girl,” she said, and her voice was like honey.

Eleanor looked up at her, still crying, but there was recognition there.

“Come here,” the nanny said with a sympathetic smile and took Eleanor from Colt’s arms. The child looked up at her in wonder, the same way Isaiah used to look at Amma.

Shelby brushed her thumb against the girl’s forehead and tickled her neck. As if a level had been turned, Eleanor’s expression brightened, and her cries turned into contented coos.

His daughter reached up and began to grab the loose strands of Shelby’s hair. She twirled them in her tiny palm and seemed completely satisfied to live in Shelby’s aura.

“Oh, my gosh,” Colt exhaled in relief, running a hand over his eyes.

“Aww, baby girl, did you miss me?” Shelby giggled. “Did you just miss me?” She rocked the child in her arms and teased, “Well, why didn't you just say so?”

“You're going to have to start piping out some words soon, sweetheart,” Colt said as he removed Shelby’s hair from Eleanor’s hand, replacing it with his finger. “Then Daddy can get you whatever you want to make you stop crying.”

“Something tells me you're going to have some very interesting teenage years with her if that’s how you bargain,” Shelby said.

“Yeah,” he snorted. “You mean I'm going to get walked over like a doormat.”

His nanny smiled and said, “Something like that.” Then, “Here, can you hold her? I'm going to go warm up a bottle.”

Colt had been trying to give Eleanor a bottle all night, and she wasn’t having any of it. “I already tried that,” he said. “But you're free to take a shot.”

Shelby set the girl into his arms, and he began to rock her. She seemed so sweet and loveable now, he’d already forgotten about the agonizing hours he’d just spent trying to calm her down. He immediately remembered as Shelby left the room and the child began screaming again.

He pinched his eyes shut, feeling the pulse of his headache return. He tried to be patient until Shelby got back upstairs.

Relief hit him when she came in through the bedroom door and clicked it quietly closed behind her. She sat in Amma’s gliding nursery chair with a bottle in her hand and reached one hand up, waiting for him to give her the child.

He set Eleanor in her arms, and she immediately calmed down.

“Remember when you said she misses me when I'm gone?” Colt recalled aloud.

“Yes,” Shelby nodded.

“I think it may be the other way around now. I think you might be the one she's having separation anxiety over,” he suggested.

Shelby nodded. “I think you may be right, unfortunately.”

“Her capacity for screaming is unbelievable,” he said as he took a seat in the tub chair adjacent to Shelby. “There was this one time when Isaiah was sick, it was the first time he'd ever gotten a cold, when he was around two or three, and he screamed bloody murder those nights. I thought that was the worst crying I had ever heard.”

“Until you met Eleanor,” Shelby said.

Colt set a finger on his nose. “Exactly,” he said. “She just pierces right through my soul. It makes you feel so powerless.”

“I know,” she agreed.

Colt watched the young woman feeding his daughter and felt a jolt of something run through his stomach. She looked so natural there with Eleanor, like nothing phased her. Then again, she hadn’t just been sitting with a screaming child for five hours straight.

“So, what do we do?” he asked.

“I read about separation anxiety in kids once,” Shelby offered. “It usually starts around nine or ten months, so Eleanor is right on track.”

“Goodie,” he snorted. “Do you remember what to do about it?”

Shelby fished her phone out of the band of her pants and began typing something into it with her free hand. “It says,” she began slowly, reading, “I should leave at the right time. Eleanor should be well-rested and fed when I leave so that she's not irritable.”

“You always leave after her dinner though,” he said with a shrug.

“It says here it might seem like a good idea to slip out without letting her know,” she read off, “but that I should be giving her a cheerful goodbye before I leave and let her know that I'll be back soon.”

Colt queried ‘separation anxiety in nine-month-old’ on his phone, and the two of them sat in blissful silence, each reading suggestions on how to handle the situation.

“Here,” he offered quietly. “It says distractions work wonders. So, maybe I'll play with her when you leave so that she doesn't notice so much?”

The two of them sat for the next twenty minutes talking about Eleanor and Isaiah. Shelby said she felt bad that Eleanor had gotten so attached to her that she now cried when the nanny left, but Colt assured her that the phase would pass. He said that it was a good thing that Eleanor was attached because it meant Shelby was doing a good job.

“So, what were you doing up anyway?” Colt asked, wondering why Shelby was freely available at three in the morning. “Out partying?”

She laughed softly. “Hardly. I just couldn't sleep, lucky for you.”

“Yeah, no kidding.” He smiled. “Are you a night owl?”

“No,” she shook her head. “Just, I don't know. That wedding.”

“I hear ya,” he nodded in agreement. All he had wanted was to go and support his friends getting married and show everyone a great night out. Instead, he’d been left thinking about Amma all night. “Here I thought I was doing something nice.”

“No, no, no. It was!” she insisted in a quiet voice. “The fireworks were beautiful. And the impromptu horse riding was great. It's just everything else.”

“Right,” he said.

“The thoughts you have when you're alone, you know?” she said, big blue eyes staring into him. “It's hard to get over.”

He asked, “Heartbreak?”

“Self-doubt,” she said with a weak smile. “My marriage left me feeling unworthy.”

“Of love?”

Shelby shook her head, offering an unenthused half-shrug. “Of love. Of a family. Of this job, your kindness, Whitney's friendship, air.” She smiled. “Everything. It just tears you down.”

“Just remember that it doesn't have to.” He said. Colt felt jarred by her words. How could someone so sweet be torn down so badly? “I was married, and it made me feel just about the opposite of everything you just said. She made me feel worthy.”

Even as the words were coming out, Colt began to wonder if they were even true. During the marriage, yes, but after? Did the memory of Amma leave him feeling good about his standing in life?

He felt unworthy of being a good father, that was for certain. He felt undeserving of Amma’s children. Maybe he didn’t feel worthy after all.

“It was only after that everything got all messed up,” he added.

“Then I guess we arrived at the same train,” she said. “We just took different paths to get there.”

“Hmph,” he said, letting out a breath. He crossed his arms and said, “Maybe. But I still think you're too young to be giving up on love.”

“You're only three years older than me,” she grinned.

“It's different.”

The two stayed up for the next few hours talking. Somewhere around five-thirty that morning, Shelby fell asleep.

Colt could feel the bags under his eyes. He was exhausted, but he couldn’t take his eyes off of Shelby. She was passed out in the nursing chair with Eleanor in her arms, both looking peaceful. Being a mother to his daughter was so natural for Shelby. He couldn’t deny the way it made him feel about her. She was so natural at all of the things he was so terrible at.

Eventually, Colt nodded off himself. It wasn’t until around seven in the morning that Shelby flinched awake in a panic, waking Colt out of a solid sleep.

“Is she okay?” she said, likely more frantic than she meant to.

Colt chuckled sleepily. “She’s fine,” he reassured her.

“Did I fall asleep?” she asked, seeming completely lost.

“For a little while,” he said. “I think we both did.”

“You shouldn't have let me fall asleep with her in my arms, Colt,” she said, her tone clipped.

“Ah, you weren't going to drop her,” he said, sitting up straighter and stretching into his chair. “You're a natural.”

For whatever reason, Shelby looked upset by this. Maybe she wasn’t used to children, but once you have them, you develop a sixth sense for them. Amma used to say she could tell when Isaiah was going to cry before he even opened his mouth.

“Here,” Colt said, sensing Shelby’s distress. He got up and put Eleanor in her crib. “You should get some rest, Shelby.”

“I'm alright,” she said as she adjusted her arm for the first time in hours.

“You're working on two hours of sleep,” he said. “Why don't you take one of the guest rooms for a bit?”

She blinked. “Like, sleep here?”

“Call it a power nap,” he winked.

“I can't sleep here,” she said with a humored incredulity. “You're my boss.”

“Shelby, you look exhausted,” he said. “If you headed home and nodded off at the wheel, I wouldn’t know what to do with myself. You should grab some sleep while you can, okay? Just come see the room before you pass on my offer, alright?”

Shelby reluctantly agreed, and he walked her down the hallway to the guest’s corridor.

This particular guest suite was styled in the same way as the rest of the house. The walls were all hand-hewn logs. The space also featured planked flooring and native stonework.

The room had a balcony with a sitting area, private ensuite bathroom with a heated or cooled flooring, a claw-foot jetted tub, a satellite TV that came up out of the floorboards, blackout curtains, and a king-size canopy bed with a massage function.

The minute Shelby sat on the bed, Colt knew she was sold. It was too luxurious to say no to.

Colt left his nanny to rest and found Isaiah awake and waiting by the baby gate at the top of the stairs.

“Morning, buddy,” Colt said.

He took his son downstairs and popped him up on the kitchen island while he made himself a coffee.

“Sh-she finally stopped crying,” Isaiah said sleepily, rubbing his eye.

“Feels like heaven, doesn't it?” Colt said as he began to brew an Americano.

“Yeah,” Isaiah smiled. “Are you going to work?”

“Not today, buddy,” he decided on the spot. “I think I'm going to stay home and hang out with you today.”

His decision was affirmed when Isaiah’s eyes went wide with excitement, and he exclaimed, “Really?”

“Really,” Colt nodded. He began to prepare a small hot chocolate for Isaiah. It may have been warm outside, but inside, the home was a pleasantly cool temperature—perfect for sipping warm drinks.

It made him happy that he could share this moment with his son. It was as close to having a cup of coffee with his boy as he could get. “So what's the first order of business?” Colt asked, setting the chocolatey drink next to Isaiah. “What do you feel like doing?”

“I want to race!” Colt said, pointing to the video game system in the open concept living room.

“Alright,” Colt said with a smile. “Let’s go!”

Colt walked over to the sofa with Isaiah and booted up the game. They played endless rounds together, and Colt couldn’t help but realize how nice it was to do something as simple as playing a game with his son.

They continued playing games for the next two hours, and finally, Colt’s stomach began to rumble.

“How about we make some breakfast for Shelby?” he suggested, pausing the game.

Isaiah turned his head curiously before standing up against the back of the couch and craning his neck to the staircase. “Shelby's here?” he asked in wonder.

“Yep. She came over to help with your sister,” Colt said. “How are things going with Shelby? You like her?”

“Yeah,” Isaiah said, noncommittal.

“Does she play games with you?” he asked.

“Yeah,” his son said, more enthusiastic this time. “And she bakes stuff all the time! And she takes us out to the park and the library.”

“To the library?” Colt nearly frowned. “What for?”

“To the book club,” Isaiah said.

“Oh, right, I forgot about that,” Colt said, smacking his forehead. Shelby had brought that up a few weeks ago. She said her parents always signed her up for the summer reading club.

Isaiah was still learning how to read, but Colt figured it would be good practice for him. Especially if he would be starting kindergarten the next year.

“It's fun. We get to dress up as characters from different stories an-an-we sit in a big circle.”

Colt smiled. “That sounds awesome, buddy.”

“You know,” Isaiah said thoughtfully, tapping his chin. “Shelby is like Mommy.”

Colt swallowed hard, taken aback. “She is?” he asked in surprise.

“I don't know,” Isaiah shrugged. “She reminds me of Mommy. I like her.”

“I like her, too,” Colt said, realizing at that moment just how strong his feelings for her actually were.

The two of them clamored along in the kitchen, trying to make a presentable breakfast for their houseguest.

Shelby slept for two hours before Colt saw her descend the long wooden staircase. She held her hand on the banister and turned the corner to enter the kitchen. Her hair was down in a mess of natural pale blonde, and she smiled sheepishly.

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” Colt said with a laugh.

Isaiah’s eyes widened with excitement as he caught sight of his nanny. “Morning, Shelby, we made you breakfast!” he exclaimed.

“Hey, buddy,” she smiled, tousling his hair as she stepped up to the kitchen island. “I'm so sorry,” she said to Colt in a whispered hush. “I didn't mean to sleep that long. I'm so embarrassed.”

“Shh, don't worry about it,” he winked. Come see what we made for you.”

She looked across the island at the magnificent spread they had prepared. There was a turquoise bowl of cheesy scrambled eggs, silver-dollar blueberry pancakes, sourdough toast, and a plate of bacon. There was also coffee, tea, and orange juice splayed out for her to choose from.

The last time Colt had cooked for anybody, it was Amma. Since then, it was just toast, cereals, and assigning a meal schedule to his private chef.

There was something so satisfying about doing it himself, especially when he saw the joy overcome Shelby’s face.

She covered her mouth with her hands in surprise and said, “This is too much! You shouldn’t have!”

“I made the pancakes!” Isaiah said as he crawled up onto one of the island stools.

“You did?” Shelby said, offering a cheeky glance to Colt. “Wow! That's amazing!”

The three of them sat down at the breakfast table and ate together. At first, Colt wondered whether it would be weird or awkward to have Shelby there, but it felt natural. It felt right.

They spent the morning talking about the changing weather, music, television shows they were currently obsessed with, and favorite books. Then, seemingly out of nowhere, Shelby gasped and said, “You’re supposed to be at work!”

Colt waved her off. “I took the day off,” he said.

“You...did?” she asked, blinking curiously.

“Yeah,” he smiled. “I wanted to spend the day with the kids. That way, I can give you a day off after making you work all night.”

“Then she can stay here,” Isaiah suggested, smiling up at his nanny.

“No, buddy,” Colt chuckled. “Shelby has to go home today. It’s her day off.”

“What about Eleanor?” Shelby asked.

“I think she's tuckered herself out,” he reassured her.

Shelby frowned in a concerned, motherly way as she considered it. Then she shook her head softly and said, “No, I...I'm going to stay; it's alright.”

“Don't feel like you have to,” he said. “I'm staying home with them no matter what.”

They met each other’s eyes, each unwavering in their gaze. Was she trying to help out with the kids, or was she trying to spend more time with Colt? Either way, he could hardly say no. The idea of spending the day with Shelby, watching movies, or going to the park seemed too good to pass up.

“Unless it's an imposition,” she offered.

Colt shook his head and smiled. “If you want to stay, by all means, stay.”

Chapter Fourteen

Shelby

Eleanor had turned one year old two days ago. There was no overwhelming celebration, just a Skype call with her grandparents and a chocolate pudding after dinner.

It seemed unreal that Eleanor was already one. She was toddling around the house by herself now, requiring little help to stand or walk. Shelby couldn't believe it.

If Eleanor was one year old, it meant that Shelby had been working for Colt for almost four months.

Doing math had become a surprisingly upsetting facet of losing a child. There was no longer a focused stream of time. Now everything was 'Before' and 'After.' If she had been a nanny for four months, it meant it had been nearly eight months since Powell passed away.

Shelby pressed her lips thin, hardly able to comprehend how brief his existence was in the world.

She shook her head. Today, she, Colt, Isaiah, and Eleanor were taking a 'family day' to explore the ranch’s Lil Wranglers activity. It was mostly a tiny petting zoo for kids, featuring bunnies and chickens and ponies, but there was no shortage of activities to do.

Isaiah was leading Shelby by the hand to the pony stables when he saw an ATV go whizzing by in the distance. It caught his attention so much, he nearly spun in a complete circle to watch it go by.

“I want to do that!” he exclaimed.

Shelby laughed, and she and Colt exchanged a knowing look.

“And you'll get to; you just have to wait a couple more years, buddy,” Colt said.

“Aww,” Isaiah said, kicking the ground beneath him.

“But look at all the cool stuff you get to do here,” Shelby said enthusiastically, pointing at all of the different Lil Wrangler signs. “There's a zip line you can go on if you get strapped to me, and there is an arcade, and biking, and horseback rides.”

“Wrangling,” Colt added in.

“Right,” she said while snapping her fingers. “Don't you want to see what it's like to be a real cowboy and wrangle a cow?”

“Yeah!” Isaiah said. They had won him over.

“Yeah!” she repeated with a laugh.

They walked closer to the stables and saw the beautiful display of ponies on show.

She watched, enamored, as Colt started telling the kids about the different kinds of horse markings. Star, stripe, blaze, bald face, irregular blaze, lip marking, and the list went on and on. They were beautiful horses, brown and black and golden coats.

As they walked by the pen of horses, Eleanor began pulling on Shelby’s sleeve, pointing at one of the spotted horses.

“I know, Ellie. Look at the pretty horses,” she said with a smile. “They're so soft.”

“Mama,” Eleanor said, and the words were unmistakable.

Shelby’s face felt hot, and she knew she was blushing. Colt’s eyes immediately darted to hers, shock washing over his features. He looked at his daughter, wondering if she was the source of the word. Before either had a chance to question it, Eleanor repeated, “Mama,” and continued pointing at the horses.

Colt’s eyes went wide, as did Shelby’s, and he asked, “What did you say?”

“Ooorse,” Eleanor tried to sound out.

“Did she just say mama?” he asked with a laugh. “Did she just say her first word?”

Eleanor had made sounds before. She had done an elongated da-da-da-da-da-da and ba-ba-ba. She was so close to speaking. By the way her mouth moved and the chatter she made daily, it was clear she was trying her hardest to talk to them. And now she had.

“Eleanor, you just said your first word!” Shelby said excitedly, bouncing the girl in her arms.

She made a big deal of it because it was a big deal. Shelby had never experienced a child saying their first word, and it felt like a momentous occasion.

She didn’t know how Colt felt about it. No doubt on some level, it must have hurt his feelings. Shelby was, after all, not Eleanor’s mother. But he acted excited all the same.

They spent the rest of the day over the moon, celebrating Eleanor’s first word and trying desperately to get her to say ‘Dad’ or ‘Daddy.’

It wasn’t until the end of the day when Shelby was about to go home for the evening that Colt pulled her hand into his and said, “I was wondering if I could run something by you.”

“Is it about Eleanor?” she asked. “I’m so sorry about the…uh…first word, thing. I know that must have been hard for you.”

Colt made a face that she couldn’t read. He looked like he was deep in contemplation. He ignored her statement and said, “Actually, I was wondering how you would feel about a raise?”

“Obviously, I would feel good about that,” she laughed. “Why do you ask?”

“Well, I was thinking maybe we could change the terms of your job and have you as a live-in nanny?” he suggested, leaning in through her window as she sat in her car, ready to go.

“Oh,” she squeaked with some surprise.

“I know it's a lot. You'd still get nights off and two days a week. I've decided that I'm going to start shifting my responsibilities at the ranch so that I can have more time at home with the kids,” he said.

Shelby bit her lip. She couldn’t believe he was offering for her to move in.

“And we would have to make some ground rules about privacy and boundaries and all that,” he continued. “Eleanor is so head over heels for you, and she's just miserable without you. I think that if she knew you were going to be in the house all the time, then she wouldn't be so anxious.”

“So...” she stammered, unsure what to ask next or how she felt about the offer. “What about rent and all that?”

“Included in the position,” he said easily. “No rent necessary. It's a big ask, I know. But I'm prepared to offer a lot for it.”

“And where would I sleep?” she asked.

“Don't worry. I wouldn't make you stay in the guest room,” he chuckled. “You could have the western part of the upstairs if you like. There's a bedroom with an ensuite and a living area. No kitchen, though.”

“Wow, it's like a little apartment in there,” she said.

“Did I mention there were fourteen bedrooms in my house?” he said with some humor. “I just thought that way you would be able to have your own space if you want to have friends over or something. As I said, we’d have to work out the logistics. I’d want you to feel welcome. You know? Not like you’re always on the clock.”

Shelby’s eyes glazed over, lost in thought. She felt lost in an endless stare, wondering what it would be like to live with Colt and Eleanor and Isaiah full-time. He told her his offer, financially, and again it seemed like something she couldn’t afford to refuse.

Then again, there were so many complications that would come from her living with her boss. Her feelings for him were already growing and being in close proximity might put them in a precarious position.

Not to mention, Colt still didn’t know about Powell. Could she agree to put herself in the vicinity of his children twenty-four-seven when he didn’t know her darkest secret? Could her mental health handle being around his kids every day, especially now that Eleanor was looking to her as a mother-figure?

“Can I think about it?” she asked with a wince. She didn’t want to seem ungrateful, but at the same time, she couldn’t imagine saying yes to the offer.

“Of course!” he said happily. “Take your time.”

Shelby knew she would spend the next week or so going over the pros and cons of the offer. But for now, she needed to talk to Whitney. She needed a sounding board for the thoughts that kept spiraling through her head.

She knew Whitney had a date that night with James, so she would have to act quickly. The moment she heard her friend get home from work, Shelby bounded after her and ran into her room.

“I need to talk to you!” she said as she jumped onto Whitney’s bed. “And it’s big.”

She told her best friend everything. She told her about the family-esque day out, how she had been called mama, and how Colt offered her to be a live-in nanny for the foreseeable future.

“Wow!” Whitney said as she checked herself in the mirror. She carefully applied coconut oil to her curly locks, and Shelby watched as they glistened with a healthy shine. “He wants you to move in?”

“Sort of,” she shrugged. She felt like she was talking about a romantic partner and not an employer all of a sudden. Like they had just taken their first big step of moving in together. “I mean, I could still keep paying rent here, just in case. It's a temporary thing until Eleanor isn't going through this little phase anymore.”

“I can't believe she called you mama,” Whitney said, still processing the story as she got ready.

“Me neither.”

Her friend spun on her heel and squealed, “That's so cute!”

Shelby’s heart warmed. “It is cute,” she gushed. “I just…I feel like I don't deserve it.”

“Are you kidding me? You're an amazing mother!” Whitney reassured her. “I mean, sure, you didn't exactly birth these kids, but they are obsessed with you in the cutest way possible.”

“No, they're not,” Shelby declined, feeling a blush come to her cheeks.

“Wanna bet?” Whitney scoffed playfully. “When we were over the other night, all Isaiah did was talk about you. You guys created your own board game?”

Shelby grinned. They had drawn and colored in their own board game on a giant piece of Bristol board. They spent the evening making up silly rules for it and making paper doll characters to be the player pieces.

Isaiah didn’t remember any of the rules as they played, but it didn’t matter. They had a blast.

“Yeah,” Whitney said in an ‘I told you so!’ tone. “He could not stop raving about it and about how much fun you are.”

“He’s so cute,” Shelby said with a smile.

“So, it all sounds like a good idea, right?” Whitney asked as she poked an earring through her lobe and fixed it in the mirror. “I mean, more money, more convenient to be there. Plus, hello? You'd be living in a mansion on the most beautiful ranch in Texas.”

“I know, I know,” she nodded.

“Then, what's up?” Whitney said, catching her friends’ eyes in the mirror. “Sounds like a no-brainer.”

“Right,” Shelby agreed slowly. “But, don't you think it's a little too close for comfort?”

“I mean, you're with them all the time,” her friend reasoned. “And clearly Eleanor already views you as a family, so...”

“I know, and I love those kids. Honestly, I love them. It's just...”

Whitney's curiosity as piqued. She stopped fussing in the mirror and bounced on the bed, taking a spot next to Shelby. “What?” she asked, narrowing her eyes suggestively. “What are we really talking about here, Shell?”

“I don't know,” Shelby admitted shyly. “It's just, sometimes I think there's a...vibe, between Colt and me. Not a vibe but just, there's a chemistry there and I'm—”

“—What? That's perfect!” Whitney interrupted.

“No, it isn't!” she laughed. “I'm nervous that by being in such close proximity, playing house, his kids calling me Mom...” She shrugged. “I don't know. I don't want to start anything with him.”

“You're not starting anything with him,” Whitney said, rubbing her hand on Shelby’s back. “You're doing a job. Plenty of live-in nannies move into their employer's residences and don't end up in a romantic entanglement.”

Shelby raised an eyebrow in disbelief, and Whitney burst into laughter.

“Okay, okay,” her friend said, showing her palms to Shelby. “A lot of them do. But that's not going to happen to you unless you want it to. Besides, haven't you both made some ridiculous pact about swearing off love altogether?”

“Forget I said anything,” Shelby blushed.

“I can't!” Whitney grinned. “This will be seared into my brain for the rest of eternity.”

“But you can understand how that complicates things?”

“Yes, of course,” her friend nodded.

“Besides, even if there is no chemistry, what about the kids? Obviously, they're getting attached now. Is it responsible to do this to them?” Shelby asked.

Whitney considered this. She remained silent for a few moments more, crossed her legs on the bed, and then offered, “You're not planning on bailing anytime soon, are you?”

“No,” she said, her eyes going wide. “Not with the money the way it is. Besides, I adore them; you know that. That's the problem.”

“Ah.”

“I'm scared, Whit,” she said.

Whitney continued to rub her back, giving her sympathetic eyes. “Of what?” she asked softly.

“I'm scared that Colt is going to find out what happened with Powell and he's not going to trust me anymore,” she said, starting to cry. She covered her face with her hands and shook her head in embarrassment.

“It was an accident,” Whitney assured her for probably the thousandth time. She loved Whitney for that. Unlike Andrew, she never seemed annoyed or exhausted by Shelby’s need for reassurance.

“It didn't feel like an accident,” Shelby said.

Now that Shelby was getting regular days off—Saturday evening, Sunday, and Monday, she was using Saturday to see a therapist. She hadn’t seen one since Powell first passed away and figured that if she really wanted to get her life back together and be a responsible caretaker for these kids, she had to do something about the way she felt.

After several sessions, her therapist confirmed what she had already guessed—she had post-traumatic stress disorder. Her symptoms said it all—difficulty sleeping, persistent and distorted blame, guilt, and anger, re-experiencing her trauma through flashbacks, distressing recollections, and nightmares. Sometimes she would even have spontaneous panic attacks.

“Sufferers of PTSD often feel unlovable,” her therapist said. “Do you ever feel like that?”

Shelby had felt chills go up her back and down her arms when her therapist asked. Feeling unlovable, unworthy, had become the theme song of her life.

The doctor had agreed that working with children could both be healing and potentially triggering for Shelby but encouraged her to stay positive. She also insisted that Shelby confide in Colt about her experience.

“First of all,” Whitney said, snapping her back to the present. “Colt doesn't have to know what happened. Second, even if he did find out, he's an amazing guy. He would understand that it was an accident. It happens. It's horrible, but it could have happened to anyone.”

“But it didn't,” Shelby said pointedly. “It happened to me, and I’m the one taking care of his kids.”

“Listen to me,” Whitney said, locking eyes with her friend. “You deserve this; do you hear me? I have to beat this into your brain because you're not listening otherwise. You deserve to move on from Andrew. You deserve a good job, and you deserve to be adored by those two little kids. You are a good mother and a good person.”

Maybe Whitney was right. Maybe she wasn't a rootless, wild horse after all. She belongs to someone. Wasn't that what Colt had said? If an animal could get such a warm welcome, why shouldn't she?

Chapter Fifteen

Colt

Shelby had been moved in for a little less than a month, and Colt couldn’t have been happier with their new boss-employee arrangement—or more confused.

The move-in was seamless. Shelby didn’t bring much with her, save for her clothes and a shoebox full of trinkets. She’d mentioned something about owning a bungalow in Dallas, but if she had any furniture or belongings from her time there, she didn’t bring them with her to Carrin.

Or at the very least, she must have left them at Whitney’s apartment.

Shelby living on the premises just made sense. She wouldn’t have to commute to work anymore, and his kids were happier. They felt safer with Shelby around. Not to mention they behaved much better. Eleanor hadn’t had a meltdown once since the nanny moved in.

That was the good part of her living with them.

Which wasn’t to say there was a bad part, necessarily. But there was certainly more temptation.

Living together meant he got to see Shelby all the time. He saw her dressed up with blonde curls and red lips; he saw her bundled in blankets in her pajamas and no makeup; he saw her snuggling his kids, making popcorn, watching movies, and everything in between.

He saw her as a wife.

The thought sent a sharp chill through his midsection. His physical attraction to her was immense. His eyes had traced the curves of her body even when he swore to himself that he wouldn’t. He stole glances at her at dinner. He thought about them being together, and that thought scared him more than almost anything else in the world.

After Amma died, he had vowed to stay faithful to her in mind, body, and soul. She was gone. His brain knew this fact well, but his heart couldn’t let her go. The thought that he’d let someone else in, even from afar, was terrifying. It felt like cheating.

“Shelby, what are you doing today?” Isaiah asked. He was sitting on the couch, but he was standing with his stomach against the back cushions so he could watch Shelby in the kitchen.

“I’m not really sure yet; why, buddy?” she asked, looking up from feeding Eleanor.

It was Sunday morning, and Colt had taken the day off.

He wanted to take the whole weekend off, but it was hard to get away on Saturday since it was the ranch’s busiest day. But Colt made sure to be home Sunday and Monday every week to spend time with the kids and give them a sense of structure. Not to mention, give Shelby some days off.

He treasured the time he got to spend with his children, and Shelby, if she decided to stay home on those days.

“We have a surprise for you!” Isaiah exclaimed, and Colt winced.

“Shh, Isaiah,” Colt laughed as he scolded his son.

Shelby looked at him with surprise and intrigue, and his heart skipped. He shrugged bashfully and said, “Well, now that somebody's spilled the beans. Yeah, we have a little bit of a surprise for you.”

“Mama!”

Colt blinked, and his eyes darted toward Eleanor. She was sitting in her highchair, reaching for Shelby’s hand, trying to get her attention. “Mmm-mama,” she said again.

Isaiah burst into a childlike giggle and shook his head. “No, Ellie,” he said sweetly. “That's not Mama.” He looked over at Colt and whispered, “Is it?”

“Is Shelby your mom?” Colt repeated with a laugh.

Isaiah fell back down into the couch and looked embarrassed. “I know she isn't my mom. But is she our new mom?”

Colt looked over at Shelby, and they exchanged a smile. “She's your nanny,” Colt said.

“That's what I thought,” Isaiah said absent-mindedly, turning his focus back to the television.

Colt walked over to Shelby and leaned against the island counter as he said, “I know it's your day off, but I was wondering if you wanted to come out with us? Maybe do a little picnic or something?”

“Out where?” she asked.

“Well, that's the surprise part, isn't it?” he grinned. “We're going to enjoy the nice fall day before it starts getting too chilly to have a proper day out with Eleanor.”

It was late October, and while the weather was still in the high sixties, Colt knew that soon it would be all spring jackets and cold nights.

“Sure, I can do that in the afternoon,” she agreed. “I’ll just have to be back by five because I have plans tonight.”

“Okay, no problem,” he said, feeling a twinge of jealousy course through him. “Hot date?” he tried to tease.

Shelby laughed and rolled her eyes playfully. “Yeah, exactly,” she snorted.

Her response left Colt feeling lovesick and uneasy. Responding with a joke was usually just a deflection of the truth. So, was there a date or not?

By lunchtime, Colt had packed a basket full of food. He grabbed a selection of freshly baked bread from the restaurant along with some mason jar key lime pies they were featuring that night. He packed cheeses, thick pastrami sandwiches, pickles, and fruit.

He took Shelby to the ranch to start the picnic. They were just south of the stables at some picnic tables that overlooked the meadows. The picnic area had a fire going to warm the guests that almost made the cool day feel humid.

The four of them ate lunch together, talking and laughing. After the meal was over, Shelby sat with Isaiah on her lap, and they pointed at the clouds, picking out ones that looked like animals.

“What’s your favorite color?” Isaiah asked his nanny.

“Hmm,” she said, tapping her lips with her delicate finger. “Blue!”

“Mine too!” Isaiah said excitedly.

“What?” she giggled. “Wow!”

Isaiah turned to Colt and asked, “Dad, what’s your favorite color?”

He shrugged. “I think brown?”

This answer was not the right one, it seemed, as it sent Isaiah into a fit of laughter. “That’s not a fun color,” his son said, nearly teasing him.

“Yeah,” Shelby snorted. “You’re kicked out of the club.”

Colt smiled at her, enamored. She let Isaiah out of her arms, and he ran to play in the meadow. He wondered what Amma would think now, seeing him with this other woman, wishing that they were more than just employer and employee. He wondered how hurt she would be to see another woman taking care of the daughter she had wanted so badly.

He wondered how Amma would feel if she knew Colt’s feelings for Shelby were overwhelming his heart.

“Did you do a lot of picnics with your family as a kid?” Shelby asked, bringing Colt back to reality.

Colt shook his head and smiled. “Not picnics, really, but we had these big anniversary parties where the whole family would get together. There are about a million kids in the family, so you can imagine how rambunctious those events were.”

She nodded. “And have you always been wealthy? If you don’t mind my asking.”

He blinked. “I guess, yeah. But you don’t understand that as a kid. Besides, my parents weren’t the kind to spoil us; you know what I mean? When I got a car, I got a used car.”

Shelby laughed. “Seriously?”

“Yup. My dad is all about working hard for your money. He worked his a—” he began but stopped quickly, looking around at his children. He smirked and corrected, “He worked his butt off for the ranch to make it successful. He and my mom always worked at partners, and they didn’t spend a lot of the money they made.”

“They just put it back into the ranch?” Shelby guessed.

“Yeah,” he confirmed. “Now there are seven ranches, all Brookside brand.”

“Wow,” she mused, looking out over the immense property. “One for each kid.”

That irony hadn’t been lost on him either. “It did work out that way,” he admitted. “But I don’t think that’s what they meant.”

“They must just like the number seven,” she said with a cute wink.

“Besides, I doubt Kennedy will ever take up ranching,” he said, the thought making him want to laugh.

“The baby sister?” she asked, and he nodded.

“My baby sister,” he confirmed.

“Why, what’s she interested in?”

“At eighteen?” he said with a raise of his brow. “Solely making my parents crazy, I think.”

Shelby laughed, and he could see the sharp edges of her canine teeth. They were adorable. She pushed her tortoiseshell glasses up her nose and met his eyes. She was like this magical being that he couldn’t believe he got to be near. Suddenly he was a kid again, in love for the first time.

“Were you a wild child? Rebellious teen?” he asked.

“I may have been known to…” she began, her eyes darting to the little ones around them. “Drink some ‘grape juice’ at the occasional party now and then. But no, I didn’t give my parents a hard time. I waited until my divorce to do that. What about you?”

“I was a nightmare,” he admitted. “A well-mannered nightmare. If they said red, I said blue. If they said stop—”

“You said go,” she finished.

“Yeah, pretty much. But I never did anything crazy.”

Shelby set her hands on the table as she asked, “No arrest records lurking around somewhere with your name on ‘em?”

“Nah,” he laughed. “Nothing like that. I just wanted my own thing.” He paused. “It’s too bad we didn’t meet back then. I think we could have had a lot of fun together.”

Shelby smiled in a flirtatious way, her face going pink at the statement. She shrugged and reached across the table to touch Eleanor’s cheek. “Yeah, but then you wouldn’t have these little bundles of joy,” she said.

“That’s right,” he said. “Speaking of this bundle of joy. Isaiah!” he called out. “Should we give it to her now?”

“Yeah!” Isaiah called back excitedly.

Colt smiled and set Eleanor in her carrier and put her on top of the picnic table. He disappeared momentarily, heading off to the car and returning to Shelby’s side with a massive box with yellow wrapping paper.

He inhaled a nervous breath and pushed the box across the table to Shelby.

“I was going to get your opinion on it,” he said, “but Isaiah decided it would be better as a surprise.”

“Okay,” she said excitedly.

Shelby gingerly opened the box and gasped as she pulled out a beautiful rider’s cap, gloves, boots, and a stunning dark green riding jacket. She oohed and awed over it, gushing about how amazing the gift was and hugging Isaiah until it finally clicked in.

Suddenly, Shelby threw a hand over her mouth and said, “You didn’t…”

But he did. He bought her a horse.

He nodded toward the stables, and her eyes beamed and brimmed with tears. The whole family made their way into the stables and walked from each door until they were met with a white horse with a braided brown mane.

“Her name is Swift!” Isaiah said.

“I love her!” Shelby said excitedly, hugging Isaiah and then hugging Colt. She met his eyes, blushing and beaming, and said, “I can’t believe you did this. Thank you. This is the best surprise ever.”

And with those words, he knew for a fact that he was in love.

Chapter Sixteen

Shelby

Living with Colt was an adjustment. It wasn’t like living with Andrew or even like living with a boss. She felt she had freedom while still being able to do her job well and spend time with some of her favorite people.

She’d been able to have Whitney over without any problems from Colt. She wondered if he would try to make it a group get-together, but he gave her privacy and didn’t interrupt their girls’ night.

He was being perfectly respectful—and that was the problem.

On top of being respectful and kind, Colt was also sweet, funny, charming, and incredibly handsome. Shelby found herself practically drooling when he was around. He was so tall and broad and rugged. He was everything she looked for in a man, and that wasn’t good.

Those were all the same qualities she felt Andrew had, and she had been so wrong about their love.

She couldn’t put her heart back on the line for another cowboy.

Plus, she didn’t even know if Colt felt the same way.

She and Whitney had spent the night in her bedroom, sipping wine and talking about everything from holiday plans to nail polish.

“I can't take it anymore, Whit,” she whispered in her bedroom. She knew the mansion was big enough that Colt wouldn’t hear her, but she was paranoid.

Whitney leaned in and knitted her brows together. “What do you mean?” she whispered back.

“Being around Colt all the time. He's just...I'm...” she blushed.

Whitney drew her fingers up to her head to make fake ears out of them. This was her way of saying her ears or ‘antenna’ were up—that she was ready for some good gossip.

“I can't believe my ears and whiskers,” Whitney gushed. “Are you finally admit that you like him?”

“What do you mean, finally?” Shelby asked.

Whitney rolled her eyes in a playful tease and said, “I mean, you've liked him since the date. Right? I'm right, aren't I?”

“Shh!” Shelby said, wide-eyed and waving her hands in the air.

“That's amazing!” Whitney exclaimed as much as she could in her whispered hush.

“No, it isn't,” Shelby whispered back, mortified. “I wasn't ready for this, Whit. I'm not ready. He's my boss. I...there are so many reasons why this can't work. It can't.”

“Then all you have to do is avoid acting on those impulses,” Whitney dared. “That’s all it takes to keep things exactly as they are. The real question is, can you do that?”

Shelby stared across the room and shook her head. “I don't know,” she admitted.

The truth was, the chemistry she felt with Colt was uncontrollable. She didn’t know how long she could keep from kissing him or needing his arms wrapped around her.

The best-case scenario was Colt felt the same way. That he needed her as much as she needed him. That they could be together and forge their little family together in happiness.

The worst-case scenario was they gave a romantic relationship a shot, it fails, and Shelby loses everything—for the second time in a year.

She would lose her job, her crush, her home, and the two children who meant the world to her.

She couldn’t take that risk.

Even knowing this, as the days went on, it was becoming more and more difficult to be in the house with Colt and his children.

She and Colt spent the night with the kids, watching movies on the couch downstairs that night. Once the little ones fell asleep, she and Colt stayed up for hours talking about life. She told him she didn’t like thinking about the future and he said that was the bravest way to live—that all he did was think ahead and it was exhausting. That he wished for one day, he could be as fearless as her.

Shelby wished she could tell him that it wasn’t brave at all. It was utterly cowardly. She couldn’t look ahead because she was still living in the past, not because she was a free spirit.

The way Colt looked at her that night on the couch made her stomach flip. She would have bet anything that he was going to lean in and press his perfect lips against hers. The possibility seemed so real that her whole body felt warm. She could practically feel her lips pulsing.

He didn’t, and she was relieved to end the evening.

The safety and anxiety she felt in the Brooks household were utterly infuriating.

Some days she felt like she was a part of something—like she had developed her own little family there. She’d tried to encourage Eleanor to call her nanny, instead of Mama, but secretly she loved that Eleanor was so attached to her.

Then other days, like today, Shelby couldn’t handle anything.

She woke up that morning and Colt was already gone to work. She walked into Eleanor’s room.

The little girl was usually standing up in her crib, ready to face the day. But this morning, Eleanor was quiet as anything. She was laying on her stomach in the crib, and Shelby’s heart froze.

She raced to the little girl’s bed and said, “Ellie?” but the baby didn’t respond.

Shelby’s hands began to shake wildly. She remembered saying Powell’s name that morning, and her voice had sounded so foreign. She had put a hand on his little body, trying to rouse him, but he didn’t move.

“Ellie?” she repeated, louder and more frantically, but she didn’t make a sound. She set a shaking hand down on the baby and felt the heat from her body.

Shelby’s heart began to pound, even as Eleanor turned over in her crib and smiled up at her.

Without hesitation, Shelby scooped the child up and held her firmly against her chest. She could feel her heart pounding through her skin.

“It’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay,” she whispered in quick succession to herself.

Eleanor was happy as could be, smiling and chattering her childlike nonsense as she tried to form words and make shapes with her mouth.

It wasn’t Eleanor who needed reassurance; it was Shelby.

“Nanny!” Isaiah called from his room, and Shelby bit her lip as she rocked Eleanor in her arms.

She wanted to calm down, but she felt the pins and needles of anxiety wash over her entire body. She felt unsafe and vulnerable. She felt like she had already failed the children even though there wasn’t anything wrong.

Shelby gulped in a breath and tried to steady herself as she walked out into the hall. Isaiah was already in the hallway by the baby gate at the staircase.

“I’m hungry,” he said.

“Okay, we’ll make some breakfast just as soon as I change Ellie, okay?” she said.

“I want to go downstairs now,” he said stubbornly and pushed against the gate.

Shelby grit her teeth. “Just give me two minutes, okay, buddy? Then I promise we’ll make whatever you want.”

She watched as Isaiah banged against the gate once more and wrapped his fingers around the latch, trying desperately to unlock it.

“Isaiah!” she said, taking a step toward him. “I said no,” she said firmly.

Isaiah looked up at her with defiance and slapped his hand against the gate again, only this time the latch came undone. He’d pushed against the door so hard that he lurched forward as it swung open toward the stairs.

“Isaiah!” she screamed and watched as the little boy fell. Thankfully, he grabbed onto the gate before any real damage was done.

Isaiah had barely fallen, landing square on his bum on the first step at the top of the stairs.

“Come here, now!” she yelled, and Isaiah quickly scurried back up the single stair and down the hall to her side. Once he reached her legs, she sat on the floor and pulled him close to her chest, erupting in a heap of sobs.

“I’m sorry,” Isaiah said. He was crying now too, though from Shelby’s tears or from thinking he was in trouble, she couldn’t be certain.

She knew she had to be the adult and get up. She had to take them downstairs and act like everything was alright. She had to make them breakfast. But she couldn’t do any of it.

Shelby was overcome with an anxiety attack. Even closing her eyes felt terrifying, like something else would go wrong if she lost her focus. She didn’t deserve these kids. All she could think of was Powell’s tiny body laying on the bed next to her. How long had he been passed away while she lay there napping? What kind of a mother could sleep through something like that?

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Isaiah said, hugging Shelby so tight that his little knuckles were going white. “I’ll go to my room!” he insisted.

“No, it’s okay,” she cried. “Come on, let me take you downstairs.”

She picked Isaiah up and latched the gate closed behind her. She didn’t want to risk him falling down the immense staircase, so she made her way down one stair at a time with two kids in her arms.

Shelby put Eleanor in her swing and fixed Isaiah with some cereal and popped him in front of the television.

Her whole body was trembling. She felt like she couldn’t stay in that house another minute.

Colt had given her a list of in-case-of-emergency numbers. People she could call at the ranch if she couldn’t get a hold of her boss.

She called Jonathan Meyers, one of the heads of the Lil Wranglers activity division. He was a kind man who was great with children. She told him she needed him to come and watch the kids for a little bit, and to her surprise, he arrived at the house without question.

Shelby didn’t wait five minutes after he arrived before she was out the door. She couldn’t get to Colt’s office fast enough.

“I can’t do this,” she said frantically as she walked in through his office door.

“Can't do what?” he said, standing up from his desk. “What's going on? Where are the kids?”

“This,” she said, extending a finger toward the floor. She felt hysterical. “Me and you. Them. I can't do it; I can't do it,” she said before giving in to her tears.

Colt walked over to her and set his finger on her chin, tilting her face up toward him, but she couldn’t meet his eyes. She was too embarrassed and too weak to do what she wanted to do if she looked at him.

Perhaps understanding this, Colt pulled her into his arms, embracing her tightly. “It's okay, Shelby,” he said softly. “Talk to me.”

She cried, unable to speak.

“Where are the kids?” he repeated, tensing slightly.

“At home,” she managed to squeak out. “With Jonathan,”

“Alright,” he said slowly, curiously. “What's going on, Shelby?”

“I...” she began but stopped short. She wanted to tell him everything. She wanted to tell him that the feelings she had for him were beyond professional. She wanted to tell him about Powell, her failings as a mother, and her fear that she wasn’t good enough to take care of Eleanor and Isaiah.

She wanted to say these things, but she felt breathless.

“I want to quit,” she said, pushing away from Colt.

Colt looked down at her and his brows knitted together with one deep wrinkle between his eyes. “What?” he said, shocked. “Why? What happened?”

Shelby pressed her eyes closed. She could feel two tears falling from her eyes and cascading down the slopes of her cheeks. “I think I'm falling in love with you,” she said out of nowhere.

The words hung in the air, and she was too afraid to open her eyes.

Colt’s hands were on the sides of her arms. She heard his lips part with a smile as he asked, “And?”

Shelby opened her eyes and looked up at him. She felt calm for the first time since her meltdown back at the house. Her breathing slowed, and she shook her head.

“And…” she breathed, feeling some sort of shock wash over her. “And I can't be working for you and in love with you.” She shook her head, mortified that she was admitting one of her biggest secrets to her boos.

“I thought it was something that I could control,” she explained. “But the longer I live with you and the closer I get to Isaiah and Eleanor and the nicer you are to me...the easier it becomes to pretend that you're mine. And you're not. And the idea that you could be is so wildly inappropriate I don't even know where to—”

“—Shelby,” Colt interrupted with a pleased laugh.

“No, don't,” she said.

“Shelby,” he said insistently.

She bit her lip. “Please, don't try and make me feel better,” she pleaded. “I don't deserve—”

Colt leaned down, and before Shelby had the chance to speak, he was kissing her. His lips were everything she had dreamed they would be. Soft, warm, gentle. It took her breath away.

Shelby wanted to leave it at that. She wanted it to be a sweet, reassuring gesture, but she couldn’t help herself. She opened her mouth, reciprocating, and the sweet kiss quickly turned passionate.

When their lips parted, Colt was smiling. “I've been falling in love with you since you ordered cauliflower at a steakhouse,” he teased.

Shelby blurted out a laugh, and her face felt hot. “What?” she asked, her word barely audible.

“You are my favorite part of the day,” he said, brushing her cheek with his thumb. “Don’t you know that?”

“No,” she protested—not to the question, but to the very idea that he could love her.

“Yes,” he confirmed.

“No.”

“Yes, and I want to be with you, Shelby,” Colt said before landing one last peck on her lips. “I have for a long time now.”

Shelby was feeling a different kind of shock now. A too-good-to-be-true shock. “No!” she repeated, not knowing what else to say.

“Why not?”

“Because,” she said stubbornly, “we agreed that we were done with love.”

He smiled and looked down at her. “I guess love wasn't done with us.”

Chapter Seventeen

Colt

The next few months with Shelby seemed to fly by without warning.

Colt had spent so much time writing off the idea of being in love, and the guilt that swam through his veins when he thought about Amma could make him sick. But he was in love with Shelby. It didn't matter anymore how much he tried to fight it. He could no longer live life pretending those feelings weren't there.

He loved talking to Shelby, and of course, she was easy to look at, but she made him better, and that was more than he could ever ask for.

The pain of Amma would always be sharp. Shelby couldn't heal that. But he'd spent months ignoring his children, too pained to look them in the eyes. And after only four months of working for him, this girl had reminded him that there was more joy in raising them than there was pain. That they didn't have to be a bad memory. They could be his way out of the deep hole he was in.

Since Shelby came into their lives, Colt had started with taking two days off a week to spend exclusively with his kids. Now that had gone up to three days.

Outings no longer had to take place at the ranch. Colt was happy and content to spend time with his children outside of his work.

Not only was this new habit healthy for his family, but it was also good for Colt. He began to crave family time. It used to be that he looked forward to nothing more than coming home and pouring himself a glass of whiskey. Now he looked forward to sitting on the couch with his kids, showing Isaiah all of his favorite movies, and making Eleanor laugh.

The fact that she had been so worked up about her feelings for him that she felt the need to come in and quit only endeared him more to the girl. She didn't quit, of course. She remained employed as his nanny. Only now, she was also his girlfriend.

But there was one thing he still had to do before he could fully commit to the beautiful blonde at his side.

It was early in the morning, well before eight, and Colt had taken a brisk February walk through the Carrin Side Cemetery.

He walked up to a large plot marked AMMA BROOKS and felt his heart sink. He knelt before the stone marker and smiled.

“I know I promised I would bring the kids next time I came to see you, but I wanted to talk to you about something first,” he said.

His eyes traced the lines of the tombstone, and he stared at the birth and death dates embedded in the rock. Amma was so young to be gone already. A life half lived and fully loved.

“I'm seeing someone,” he said nervously. “She's been in our lives for just a little while now. Everyone tells me that you'd be happy I was moving on, but I know it would break your heart. If you could see us together, I know you would hate me for it.”

He imagined what Amma might say if she were in person, or some heavenly figure before him, and for the life of him, he couldn’t hear her voice.

“But then you'd see her with the kids,” he explained with a smile. “You'd see how much she cares for them and I know you would love her. She’s good for them, Amma. She’s good for me.”

He turned around and looked in the distance. Shelby was standing by the car in a long-sleeved black wrap dress, her hair in a side braid as she waited for him to call her over.

Colt waved, and Shelby began walking over. She held a small bouquet of white baby’s breath in her hands and placed it on the grave.

“Amma,” Shelby said, holding Colt’s gaze. “I’ve come to pay my respects to the woman who created those beautiful children.”

Colt nearly teared up, but he held it together for Shelby—and Amma.

“I don’t know if you’re out there somewhere,” Colt said. “But if you are, I want you to know that I’m…happy.”

The graveside ceremony was important to Colt. He liked to believe there was an afterlife in some form or another. And if he were correct, then it wouldn’t have felt right to fully commit to Shelby without talking to Amma about it first.

He couldn’t have been more appreciative that Shelby was willing to go along with the strange meeting.

It was cathartic. Afterward, Colt felt like he could breathe again.

He loved his new life with Shelby. They had regular family days every Sunday that were easy to look forward to.

Tuesday nights, they would talk over dinner about what their adventure would be for the following Sunday. Each took their turn planning an amazing family day.

Isaiah always wanted to play something. Video games, board games, sports.

Colt often chose an activity from the ranch such as horse riding, hiking, or fly fishing—though it was getting too cold to do the latter.

When it was Shelby’s turn, the activity always felt like home. She wanted to learn, go to museums, or bake something. She wanted to read or cozy up at home and watch a movie.

When Eleanor was old enough, she would be able to pick something too. Colt looked forward to adding another spice to their planning.

Friday nights, Colt got a babysitter. This was a funny concept, considering Shelby was supposed to be the children’s nanny, but he wanted to spend time alone with her. Friday night was date night, and this night Colt had taken Shelby to the same cowboy bar they had their ‘first date’ at.

They ordered the same meal they had that night and celebrated their new relationship.

“Happy three months,” Shelby said, raising a glass to Colt.

“Happy four months,” he said with a smile.

The pair had been an official couple for three months, and it had gone by so fast, Colt hardly had time to catch and enjoy it.

Things were going well. Colt hadn’t been this happy in forever, but he was holding back, and he knew Shelby was, too. There was an invisible wall between them.

He knew what was holding up his end and was hoping he had rectified at the graveyard. But Shelby’s reservations remained a mystery. Whatever haunted her at night, whatever left her trembling or distant, was something she kept close to the vest.

There was a folk-rock band playing at the bar, and after they finished their meal, Colt and Shelby took a seat at the bar and listened to the band perform.

After watching them for some time, Colt leaned into Shelby’s ear and asked, “What do you think?”

“I love them,” she said with a bright smile. “It’s so rare to find someone who has that raw, musical talent, you know? He’s not putting on a voice to try and sound a certain way or fit into a particular genre,” she gushed excitedly. “His voice is just a natural gift. And their harmonies are—”

Colt began to laugh. He cupped her cheek in his hand and said, “I’m glad you love the band. But I was talking about us. What do you think?”

“Oh,” she flushed. “Well, I’m a pretty big fan of that, too.”

“Me too,” he said.

Colt leaned in a kissed her. She smelled like warm vanilla, like a cookie. He closed his eyes and took her in, lips finding the perfect rhythm that only those who were truly passionate about one another could master.

Chapter Eighteen

Shelby

Shelby’s eyes darted to the photo of Amma that hung in an oval frame on the wall of Eleanor’s nursery. She couldn’t help but think what a beautiful woman she was.

“What was your mommy like?” Shelby asked Isaiah as they sat in Eleanor’s room, the three of them playing with wooden building blocks.

“I don’t know,” Isaiah said with an innocent tone.

“What do you mean you don’t know?” she repeated with a laugh.

“I don't remember,” Isaiah said. He looked up at the photo of his mother in the frame on the wall and cocked his head to the side. Then he smiled and said, “I remember that she was a-always singing songs. And she called me...um...cowpoke.”

“Cowpoke!” Shelby giggled. “I love that! That's so cute. She was a fun mom, wasn't she? And I bet she made your dad so happy.”

“Yeah! Like you,” Isaiah said, building his blocks up higher and higher.

“Do you think so?” she asked.

Shelby watched as Eleanor tossed a block at Isaiah's pile, knocking it over with a mischievous giggle. Isaiah sighed, laughed, and began rebuilding.

“Yes,” Isaiah finally responded.

Shelby had agreed to go to the cemetery with Colt. She thought it was going to be weird, at first, but it wasn’t at all. She was taught that when you die, you were simply gone—not watching from above. She had no delusions that Amma could hear her.

But it felt good to do it. It felt right.

It was a symbolic passing of the torch for Colt, and for Shelby a little, too. Like somehow, she now had the blessing to let Eleanor call her ‘Mom’ without feeling guilty or to play with Isaiah with all of her heart.

“And what about you, Isaiah?” she teased, tickling his side as he tried to build his castle back up. “Have I won you over yet?”

“Yeah,” he said casually. “You're fun.”

Shelby's heart warmed. “You're fun, too, buddy.”

They continued playing and chatting, and then Isaiah asked something that made Shelby think.

“Is my dad going to marry you?” he asked absent-mindedly.

“I don't know,” she said quietly. “I guess that's something we'll have to wait and see about.”

“Okay,” Isaiah smiled. “I hope he does.”

It had only been a couple of months of dating. Though, Shelby had been in the Brooks family’s life for nearly eight months now.

It was too soon to get married. It was too soon to even think about it.

But the way Shelby felt about this little family was undeniable. She felt like she finally belonged somewhere.

But she was holding back.

After the cemetery visit, Colt was like a completely different person. He’d lost that cowboy standoffishness. He was even more affectionate and vulnerable now than he ever was during their initial courtship.

But Shelby could feel her heart holding back. Colt had revealed himself to her. He’d taken the steps to move forward, but she was still stuck in her past.

She still had anxiety attacks. She still woke up crying in a cold sweat. She still had days where she felt like she wasn’t worthy of the love of this family. And Colt still had no idea why.

They had been curled up on the couch, cuddled under a blanket, watching a nature documentary, when she first thought about telling him.

“Being a mother is important to me,” Shelby said nervously, hardly able to hear her own words.

“Then you're lucky I have two little ones running around,” he teased.

“I'm serious,” she began to say.

“So am I,” Colt said. He tilted her head back and landed a kiss, pulling her into his charm. “Besides,” he whispered flirtatiously, “we may just have our own rugrat running around one day.”

Shelby swallowed nervously. “That's the thing...I actually...”

Before she had the nerve to finish her thought, Colt gripped her arms tightly as he spooned her and then pointed to the television. “I don't understand this parasite at all. So basically, it takes over the animal’s brain?”

Shelby laughed nervously. “Basically, yes.”

The television showed a parasitic wasp larva attach itself to a spider. Under manipulation by the larva, the spider built a web it had never built before. It was a special web designed to house the larval wasp until it matured. There were other types of zombie parasites as well. Many of these creatures were located in the Amazon jungle.

Others took over the brain of a small insect, such as an ant, and got it up a tree. The ant would then kill itself, allowing the parasite to grow a vine-like spire out of the ant's head. The vine would then grow more spores that would infect more ants and insects. And the cycle continued.

“What's the point?” Colt winced. “This is basically animal mind control, right? It turns animals into zombies.”

“Essentially,” she said.

He tickled her sides and joked, “And you're okay with this?”

“It's nature!” she laughed against his fingertips. “I can't control it.”

“I'm getting the heebie-jeebies just watching this,” he said.

Then and there she knew the moment was over. She couldn't very well talk about the trauma of what happened to her son when Colt was going on about zombie spores.

Even though Shelby and Colt were technically living together, they still maintained their boundaries while under the same roof. At night, Shelby would go to her wing of the upper floor, to her bed. The two of them would stand in the middle of the hall saying their goodnights for as long as they could, kissing and whispering sweet nothings.

But that night, Shelby couldn't get Colt's words out of her head.

“Did you mean what you said...about having a little rugrat?” she asked just above a whisper.

Colt touched his nose to her and smiled sheepishly. “Was that too much? I didn't mean tomorrow or anything. I was talking long, long, long term. Way, way down the road.”

“No, no,” she said. “I just...I'm not sure I'm ready for that.”

“Hey,” he said sweetly, “all I was saying was that, if being a mother is important to you and you want to have your own kids one day, then I am in. I am all in this with you, Shelby.”

“Good,” she said. “I'm all in, too.”

She was happy to hear his loving words. In her experience, it wasn’t easy for a cowboy to admit when he was committed. But his words were like a double-edged sword. They made her feel safe and secure, but they also reminded her that for the first time in almost a year, she had something to lose again.

But sooner or later, she would have to tell him. She only worried that he would never be able to look at her the same way he did now if he knew who she really was.

Chapter Nineteen

Colt

Colt was running late to work. He had a meeting in just under an hour that he had hoped to spend more time preparing for. But with how his morning was going so far, it was looking like he would just make it to the office in the nick of time.

He was still at home. It was nearly eight o clock, and he had been chasing after Isaiah all morning, getting him fed, dressed, and spending a little playtime together.

Shelby had spent the night at Whitney’s, and it felt strange not having her home in the morning.

Whitney was planning some massive surprise party for James and asked Shelby if she could help her prep some of the activities, decorations, and favors.

Colt didn’t understand that special brand of joy that women got from party planning, but Shelby seemed over the moon with the sleepover.

“Can you stay home today?” Isaiah called from upstairs.

“No, sorry, buddy!” Colt called back, beginning his ascent up the wooden staircase. “Daddy has to work today, but Shelby's going to be back in a little bit. She had to help Whitney with something.”

Colt walked into Isaiah’s room and cocked a brow when he saw his son was nowhere to be found. He checked the bathroom and then Eleanor’s bedroom. She was sleeping soundly, her brother out of sight.

“Where are you?” he called into the hallway.

This was one of the only downsides to having such a massive house. The kids had plenty of options to play hide and seek.

Isaiah didn’t respond, and Colt knew this could only mean one thing. His son was doing something he wasn’t supposed to.

He heard rummaging in Shelby’s room and approached her door hesitantly. He pushed the ajar door open and peeked in to see his son on the floor with a massive shoebox of photos and trinkets opened in front of him.

“Isaiah, what are you doing?” Colt asked in a stern voice.

“Nothing,” Isaiah said, not looking up at him.

“Are you going through someone else's things?” he asked, setting both hands on his hips.

“No,” Isaiah squeaked out.

Colt wanted to laugh. “That's a pretty blatant lie, buddy.”

Isaiah was sitting in the middle of the floor with his legs crossed, his back facing Colt. He tilted his head back so that he was practically tipping backward, looking at his dad. “I lost my car,” he said.

“And you thought it was under Shelby’s bed?”

Isaiah turned around. He was in front of a box overflowing with Polaroids. Colt had never seen so many tiny polaroid photos in all of his life. In Isaiah's hands sat a crystal elephant. The sun from the window had caught onto the crystal edges and was casting a rainbow of light throughout the room.

“We were playing this morning an-an-an I—” Isaiah stammered.

“Uh-uh. You can't do that, buddy,” Colt said, stepping deeper into the room. He took the elephant from Isaiah's hands and set it back in the shoebox. “We need to respect other people's privacy,” he said.

“I know,” his son said glumly. “I'm sorry.”

Colt scooped the photos up that had spilled from off the floor and tossed them back in the box. Isaiah was chattering away, but the photo that landed on the top of the box caught Colt's eye. Against his better judgment, he picked it back up.

It was a photo of Shelby. She was laying in a hospital bed, hair wet and face paler than normal. She was smiling, crying, and had a face full of sweat. Swaddled in a blue blanket in her arms was a newborn baby boy.

Below the photo, “Mommy + Powell” was written in black marker.

Colt set his jaw, feeling a strange unease wash over him.

“Go wake up your little sister, okay, bud?” he said, not looking at Isaiah.

“Okay!” Isaiah said cheerfully, running down the hall.

Colt bit his lip. These were Shelby's personal belongings. He was never the person to search somebody's things, check their phone, or take an interest in knowing what someone wasn't ready to tell him. But he was drawn in now; he couldn’t help himself. He ran his fingertips across the photos in the box, stopping only when another polaroid caught his eye.

He plucked the photo up between his thumb and pointer finger and stared at it with a jealous confusion coursing through his veins. It was a photo of Shelby in a green sweater, a tall man with dark blue eyes at her side, his arm wrapped snugly around her. In between them, held by Shelby, was a baby.

The black marker at the bottom of the photo read: ‘First family picture.’

Colt felt his body go cold.

He heard the sound of the front door open and quickly closed the shoebox, shoving it far under Shelby’s bed.

Colt slipped out of the room feeling numb. He walked down the hall to Eleanor’s room and stared at the little girl in her crib.

Isaiah was telling her a story. One that he was making up on the fly, clearly, because the tale didn’t make a lick of sense.

On another morning, Colt might smile at this. On another morning he would laugh and pick Eleanor up. But he couldn’t.

Shelby jaunted up the stairs, and before he knew it, she was in the doorway behind him.

“Morning, munchkins!” she shouted happily, swooping in and picking Eleanor up out of her crib.

“Morning!” Isaiah said, giving Shelby their usual high-five exchange.

“Sorry I’m late,” Shelby said, kissing Colt on the cheek. “We got a little carried away and ended up staying up until, like, two in the morning planning presents and all that good stuff. I slept in. I’m so sorry! Oh!” she exclaimed, looking at the wall clock. “You’re going to be late for your meeting. You’d better hurry, babe!”

Colt smiled. “I’ll see you later,” was all he said.

For once, he was glad to have an early meeting. It meant he didn’t have to talk to Shelby or confront what he had found.

The meeting went horribly. They made the deal with their investors, but Colt was distracted the whole time. He was overwhelmed with thoughts of Shelby.

When he was back in the safety of his office, he locked the door and pulled the ‘first family photo’ out of his back pocket.

He knew he shouldn’t have taken it, but he was in shock. His biggest concern was getting Shelby’s photos back underneath the bed.

He stared down with a twinge of jealousy at the man who broke Shelby’s heart, then softened to a deep-seated pain as he looked at the child she was carrying.

When he had scattered his fingers across the photos, he had seen others of Shelby with a giant pregnant belly, photos of her wedding day, photos of she and Whitney when they were much, much younger.

Shelby had a son.

This fact kept playing over in his mind.

Why wouldn’t she tell him?

He understood why she might keep it from him when he was just her employer—but even then, why wouldn’t she have used that fact as a selling point when he offered her a position as a nanny?

And now that they were together, why wouldn’t she tell him this huge facet of her life?

Most important of all…where was the boy now?

He could have been with Andrew, the father. But something told Colt that this was not the case.

The box of photos and the trinkets inside were more like a memorial than a celebration of the life she had created. Colt knew pain when he saw it, and Shelby was a deeply pained woman.

He didn’t want to confront Shelby with this, but he didn’t know if he could pretend he didn’t know about her past.

He felt sick to his stomach, hurt at the thought that she wouldn’t trust him with her life. He had shared so much with her. He thought he was winning her trust and breaking down her walls. But it turned out he was just as far away as he ever was.

Shelby was impenetrable.

Chapter Twenty

Shelby

It was date night, and Shelby had been looking forward to her time with Colt all week, mostly because he had been so busy at work that they hadn't been able to see each other very much in the last couple of weeks.

The weather was high-fifties, and Shelby loved the feeling of being bundled up. They were going to do dinner and then walk down by the marina. They had made reservations at an Italian restaurant, which was a far departure from the children's restaurants or steakhouses they usually frequented.

Shelby dressed up in jeans and an oversized sweater with a black beanie that made her hair look extra light.

Colt met her at the bottom of the stairs wearing dark slacks and a posh button-up. He'd even ditched the cowboy hat for her tonight.

They drove to the restaurant, and she beamed with excitement. She felt like she hadn't talked to Colt all week and was shocked at how long she talked for in the car. Things were no different in the restaurant. She raved about the amazing pasta dishes.

The two ordered a charcuterie board to start, which sounded so fancy to Shelby but just ended up being a picnic platter of cured meats, cheese, pickles, and olives, along with little pieces of crusty bread. Not that she was complaining. Next, Colt ordered the vongole, clams stuffed on the half shell. Carrin's proximity to the water meant that they had excellent seafood, and these clams were no exception.

For the main course, Shelby ordered gnocchi, potato dumplings with a black truffle cream sauce. Colt ordered a carved ribeye with a side of rigatoni mixed with vegetables, each of which she stole a bite from.

It wasn't until their meal was over that Shelby realized she had been doing most of the talking for the evening.

Colt seemed distant.

They walked down by the water, and the whole pier was lit up by string lights. She looped her arm through his and snuggled into him.

“Is it too cold for you?” she asked.

He shook his head and stared forward. “No, I'm fine.”

The pair continued to walk in silence. Like any girlfriend would do, Shelby decided to see how long she could stay silent until Colt finally made conversation.

She began to count the seconds in her head until two minutes had gone by in complete silence.

Finally, she asked, “Did you have a bad day at work?”

Colt took an even, audible breath and said, “I've had an interesting week.”

“How's that?” she asked.

“I'll tell you when I'm done figuring it out myself.”

She grinned, looking up at him. “Come on, I'm a good ear for this kind of stuff. Trust me!”

Colt scoffed with sarcasm. The tone of his breath was enough for her to pull back, forcing their arms apart.

Colt turned around to look at her, and they were face to face under a streetlight, the rush of the water crashing up against the docks behind them.

“What's up with you tonight?” she asked, trying not to sound like she was starting a fight. “I feel like you're somewhere else tonight.”

“Maybe,” he shrugged.

“Is everything okay?” she asked again.

Colt inhaled for what felt like forever. His eyes scanned the dark water behind her before locking her in a gaze. “I don't know, Shelby,” he said. “You tell me.”

Shelby felt her stomach twist and ache. Colt wasn’t happy. She’d never seen him this way before.

Usually, he was warm and open with her; it was one of the things she liked most about him. At worst, he had acted professionally around her. The two had yet to argue, so this behavior was utterly foreign to her.

“What's wrong?” she asked, her voice revealing her growing panic. “What did I do?”

“I love you,” he said firmly.

She nodded. “I love you, too.”

“Alright, well, I love you, and I want to share everything with you,” he said carefully. “I share my life, my home, my kids, my...past.”

The way he said those last words made her skin crawl. He knew.

“I've trusted you with that,” he confirmed.

Shelby swallowed hard, her heart beating wildly. She felt an anxiety attack coming on. She dug her nails into her palm to stop herself from crying—to make her focus. The action left half-moons imprinted in her skin, but she hardly noticed.

She set her jaw and asked, “Who told you?”

“Isaiah,” he said, which was one of the most surprising revelations.

The skin in the corners of her eyes tightened. “What?”

“I found him playing with some...I don't know,” Colt shrugged, “some elephant in your room. He was digging through a box under your bed. He said he was looking for his car.”

Shelby’s pulse was going so quickly that she no longer had control over her expressions. She was incapable of staying calm and collected.

“I was putting everything away and...well, it wasn't exactly hard to catch a glimpse,” he said.

Colt produced a tiny snapshot from his inner jacket pocket. He handed the photo to her, and she instantly knew what it was. The first family photo.

Her heart leaped at her former life. Powell’s cheeks looked so cute and full. He was sleepy that day, and her friend wasn’t able to capture him with his eyes opened.

Her bittersweet memory was overcome with hurt feelings as she pulled the picture closer to her chest and said, “You took this from me?”

“I realize I shouldn't have,” he said, showing her his palms. “It sounds stupid, but I didn't mean to. You came home when I was trying to put the box away and, well, it caught me off guard. I realize you have every right to be upset that I took it, just like I realize you have a right to your privacy.”

“I do have a right to my privacy,” she repeated.

“I apologize,” he said sincerely. “I hope you can see how this might be a little shocking to me. I thought, she needs space. She needs to trust me. She needs something I haven't given her yet to share this with me. Do you know how long it's been since I found this?”

“No, I don't,” she said nervously.

“Two weeks. And I haven't heard a thing from you, and something tells me I never would have if we weren't standing here right now.”

“No,” she swallowed, shame filling her face in the form of red blush. “You wouldn't have.”

“I can't make you tell me about him,” Colt said, as kind as ever. “But I can't live like I don't know about him, either.”

Shelby stared down at the photo and was transported back to another time. A time when she was a new mother, expecting everything out of life. She was transported to Powell’s funeral. To Andrew leaving. Finally, to meeting Colt.

He had been so kind to her. And he was right; he had let her into his life in every way possible. She was so afraid that if she moved on, it meant she would forget about Powell. She was scared that if she told Colt what really happened, she would end up losing him too.

A sob elbowed it way up her throat, and she released it into the air like with a fury of tears.

Colt immediately wrapped his arms around her.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” he said quietly.

Shelby pulled away. “Don’t be,” she managed to say through her tears. She had been wanting to tell Colt about Powell for months. Now was the time.

“Does he live with Andrew?” he asked.

She stared down at the photo and shook her head. “No, he doesn't.”

“Someone else?” he asked and again, Shelby shook her head.

Colt grabbed her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. She could feel his love radiating around her as he said, “Let me in, Shelby. It's not as scary as you think. I promise.”

She heaped out another sob and couldn’t stop the tears anymore. They wreaked havoc down her cheeks, forcing her body to shake with pain.

“He died,” she said, tasting the bitter words on her tongue. She pushed them out through a cry, and it made her voice sound foreign and wrong. “He died when I was watching him,” she continued, struggling to breathe, her words coming out rapidly. “He died while I was sleeping right next to him. I couldn't even protect my own son, and I was so scared that if you knew, you wouldn't let me around the kids anymore.”

She couldn’t look at Colt’s face. She didn’t want to see the disappointment in his eyes.

“Shelby, shh,” he hushed, holding her.

“It was so, so selfish. I don't deserve your family; I know that,” she cried. “I just wanted you to keep looking at me like...”

“Like what?” he asked.

“Like I wasn't a total and complete screw-up.”

“Shelby, you are not a screw-up. Talk to me. What happened?”

“SIDS,” she said angrily. “They said it was SIDS.”

“I'm so sorry,” Colt said, shaking his head. He went to speak again, but she cut him off.

“They said it was SIDS, but I know it was my fault. It was my fault and Andrew left, and I know he blamed me. I know he did.”

Colt shook his head. “He left because he couldn't handle it, not because of you.”

“He left because of me,” she disagreed. “And you're going to leave, too.”

“Shelby,” he said with an out-of-place, whispered laugh, “I can't imagine what that has been like for you. I love my kids more than anything in the world and if I lost one of them...”

His words made her cry harder, but he wasn’t finished.

“But you don't have to worry about any of that other stuff. I love you. I trust you completely with my kids, and I wouldn't dream of having our life any other way. You're my family now, and we're your family. Always.”

Her tears halted, and she looked up at him, wrinkling her forehead in surprise.

“What?” she asked in disbelief.

“I love you,” he repeated with a warm smile. “I trust you completely. You are my family. I’m just sorry you weren’t able to tell me this sooner. You have helped me heal, Shelby, and I want to do the same for you.”

“You want to…” she repeated foggily. “You’re not leaving?”

He laughed and shook his head. “I would never leave you, Shelby. Never.”

Epilogue

Colt

Shelby had started as a nanny, but not she was so much more. She was Colt’s wife.

One year after they met, Colt asked Shelby to marry him, and she said yes.

Since then, they had hired a new nanny. A sweet and charming window named Donna. This was not to say that Colt didn’t trust Shelby. He trusted her implicitly. But knowing what he did about her past, he wanted to do anything he could to lighten the load for her with the children and to help her heal organically—never feeling overwhelmed or forced to face her demons.

Donna worked four days a week. Those same four days, Shelby worked with Colt at the ranch. The rest of the time, the kids were Colt and Shelby’s full responsibility, and they wouldn’t have it any other way.

They had become partners in everything. Business, love, and parenting.

The kids adored Shelby, maybe more than Colt did if that were possible. And then, one not so special day, they decided that they were ready to make their little family even bigger. Shelby was pregnant, and Colt couldn't have been happier.

She taught him so much about patience and love. She taught him that a healthy, real life isn't about shutting yourself off from love. It is about growing together, forgiving each other, and constantly evolving love into something better than it had ever been before.

The End

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About the Author

Hanna Hart is a passionate sweet clean contemporary romance author who has found the love for writing since the age of 6.

Hanna lives in the beautiful Santa Cruz California with her loving husband, two children and dog Milo. Other then dreaming up of extremely sweet & romantic stories, Hanna enjoys spending time with her family, going to the beach, cooking great food, traveling the world, and getting a lot of exercise.

Hanna’s purpose is to delivery very sweet romantic stories to her readers that will touch their hearts in a very meaningful taking them to another place that will positively impact their life.

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