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I plopped the first few potatoes on the cutting board and reached for the peeler. “Why wouldn’t they know?”

He wandered in from the living room and stopped at the kitchen counter to load another cracker with cheese, but he didn’t eat it right away. “I think some folks like to let their feelings grow without a lot of interference, even from the people they care about the most. Maybe Blake’s just private. Couple of his boys are like that, too.”

I tossed the first potato into the pot. “I could see that. Not about Luke, but maybe Evan. He’s almost a hermit since he lost his wife.”

Dad nodded and crunched on his cracker. “And there’s Dusty.”

I turned a quizzical look on him. “What about Dusty?”

He shrugged. “Seems like a guy who thinks a lot more than he talks, that’s all.”

I frowned as I peeled and chopped. “Maybe. I always thought he just wasn’t very sociable.”

“Maybe you never took the time to find out.”

I swept the last of the chopped potatoes from the cutting board into the pot. “I’m not sure how I’m supposed to do that. He never really says anything when I run into him in town. In fact, he usually acts like he can’t get away from me fast enough.”

“He could just be shy.”

“He doesn’t seem like that with other people. And anyway, I’m seeing Austen right now, so it would probably look bad for me to try to solve all the mysteries of one cowboy named Dusty Walker.”

“Hmm.” Dad grunted and helped himself to another cracker. “I guess it would.”

Austen got home early on the twenty-seventh and picked me up from work to grab lunch at Burger Shack. And then, after milkshakes and curly fries, he drove me out to see his ranch.

I hadn’t been out there since I was a teenager and came up to watch a branding. The place had gone downhill since then, but here and there, I could see where Austen was already fixing things back to what they should be. Old gates that would need to be replaced soon swung from new posts. There were sections where the barn siding had obviously been repaired, and a patch of new steel had been welded into the feed silo where it had probably rusted through.

“Lots of stuff still to do,” he apologized as he shifted the truck into park. “For now, it’s like plugging holes in the dike until the floodwaters recede and I can fix things right.”

“I’m sure.” I pushed open the door of the truck, and Dakota, who had tagged along, hopped out behind me. He started sniffing everything in the path until we got to the front porch, where a shifty-eyed Border Collie sat waiting for us. The dogs squared off for a few seconds, taking their measure of one another, then Dakota sneezed and turned away to nudge my hand.

“Meet Shep,” Austen said. “He and I are still getting to know each other, and he’s giving me the silent treatment for leaving town.” He chuckled and reached down to pat Shep’s head. He was right—the dog gave Austen a suspicious look before permitting him to stroke his ears.

“You had someone watching the ranch, though, didn’t you?” I asked as I extended my hand for Shep to sniff. He hesitated, then cautiously licked my fingers.

“Danny was here, so he was well taken care of. But you’d think I was cheating on him or something by the way he’s acting today. I’m not sure why he’s so funny about it.”

“Give it time. He’s just figuring you out, and these working dogs are like Velcro. They really bond to their handler, and it upsets them to be alone.”

“I guess so. Well, shall I give you the ten-cent tour before you have to get back to work?”

“Sure! Only I’m not going back to work today. I’m starting to volunteer out at White Pines a couple of afternoons a week.”

He looked mystified. “The horse therapy program? But you’re not a therapist. What can you do there?”

“Oh, lots of stuff, now that they have the funding to expand. Morgan always needs volunteers, even if it’s just for stall cleaning and feeding. You should stop by if you have time.”

“I doubt I will. One thing I’m learning about being a rancher is you don’t get spare time. Unless…” He slipped an arm behind me and tugged me closer.

“Unless what?” I asked in a whisper. I let my hand rest on his chest as prickles raced over my skin.

“Unless something is really worth investing in.” He pulled his hat off and leaned down. I met him halfway.

He was nice to kiss. Gentle and considerate, and he smelled like aftershave. I didn’t let it carry on too long, but I wasn’t sorry. I’d seen a bit of his soul in his words, and so far, I liked what I saw.

Austen drew back. “Well, I guess we’d better hurry up if you have somewhere to be. What would you like to see?”

“How about the horses?”

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