"Yes. I do."

"That fire, where I fell through the roof...I was rescuing a kid. He's suspected of starting the fire."

"Oh my God, a kid?"

"A teen. And now he's suing me and the department and the city and the state and probably God, too."

"You saved his life and he's suing?"

"Yeah. And when I got out of the hospital, the press was having a field day on me, my shoulder was killing me, I was getting broker and broker, and..."

"And you needed out."

"I needed out." He sighed. "And now here I stay until I can go back to work."

She looked at his shoulder. "You're not ready."

"Not yet."

In his eyes, she saw what he didn't say, that he feared he might never be ready again, and her heart broke for him.

"Maybe you should take better care of me," he said softly.

"Back to that pampering thing, are we?"

A slow grin tugged at his mouth as he crowded into her space again, leaning in, lips parted, eyes dark and sexy, but a knock at the door, just behind her back, made them both jump.

Michael poked his head in, bumping the door into them. Callie dropped her arm from Jake, but Jake was much slower to pull free. His shirt was askew from her hands, her hair messed from his, and guilt flashed through her for reasons that made no sense.

"Did I interrupt something?" Michael asked, his welcoming smile gone.

"I'm just surprised to see you." Callie glanced at Jake, who'd turned his back now, jamming his hands in his pockets, looking out the window. "What brings you out here this late?"

"You seemed down on the phone earlier. I brought you dessert." He eyed Jake, then Callie again, and held up a gallon of Rocky Road ice cream. "Thought I'd cheer you up."

It was so awkward, Callie couldn't stand it, but she forced a smile. "Thanks. Ice cream is always appreciated. Jake? Do you want-"

"No. Thanks." He moved to the door. " 'Night."

When the door shut behind him, Callie stared at it for a minute trying to get her bearings in a spinning world.

Michael handed her a spoon. "Interesting night, huh?"

"Yeah. Michael-"

"Hey, it's none of my business." He jabbed his spoon into the ice cream with much more force than necessary, then sagged a little bit. "Ah, Cal. Tell me I'm seeing things. Tell me you're not doing this."

"I thought you said it was my business."

"I lied. You are my business. I know you hate it when I say this, but honest to God, you're scaring me. This whole thing is scaring me. Things missing and horses hurt. You hurt. And now you're...I don't know what exactly, with Jake Rawlins. Your mortal enemy."

"One horse got hurt. And I don't think I was meant to. And as for Jake..." When she trailed off helplessly, not sure what to say, he just stared at her.

"I really don't like you all the way out here in the middle of nowhere with him."

"I'm home, Michael. And I'm not with Jake."

"You're not home. Not with him planning on selling this place from right beneath your feet."

She dug into the ice cream and tried not to think about that, or the confusion in her heart. "I'm going to be okay." She always was.

10.

The ranch had one full day before its next guests arrived-a group of professional cheerleaders looking for an exciting retreat atmosphere for a team-building experience.

Everyone used the day to catch up on chores. Eddie worked on the inside of the barn. He tried to move the soft, sweet, mewling puppies again, just so he could clean their area, but Tiger wouldn't allow them to be moved. Shep sided with her, and with resignation, Eddie worked around them all, giving the protective, possessive momma wide berth. Only when he accepted the situation did Tiger come close to him, tail wagging, butt wriggling, as she nosed up for some of the attention he'd been giving her every day. "She's aptly named," he told Callie.

Stone painted with Jake, talking nonstop in his usual cheerful manner. Tucker worked with the horses, once again quiet and brooding, making Callie figure he and Jake had already forgotten the paint-Callie incident.

All in all though, things were calm. At least until late in the afternoon, when Marge managed to run her finger beneath the sewing machine needle while repairing curtains in the big house. Callie was good with injured animals, but at the sight of Marge's finger and the blood spurting out of it, she felt faint. Amy was no help, either. She just stood there, mouth covered with her hands, eyes wide.

They were all just beginning to panic when Marge herself leaned out the window of the laundry room and yelled, "Problem!"

In two seconds flat, Jake was there with the others behind him. He pushed Marge to a chair, elevating her arm and applying pressure to the wound, calmly giving directions to everyone around him. "Amy, grab some towels. Eddie, get Lou to pull out the truck. Stone, the floor-"

"On it," Stone said and began to clean up.

Callie just sat and held Marge's other hand while Jake dressed the wound with supplies from the first-aid kit Tucker had gotten from the kitchen. She was careful not to look at the wound while reluctantly admiring Jake's cool composure under pressure.

Lou drove Marge into town for a doctor, leaving Callie and Amy hustling to get all the bed linens and towels changed and the house cleaned up. They stood over the dryer, folding the linens as they came out. Hot, tired, and sweaty, Callie rubbed her arm over her forehead. "I appreciate the help in here."

As usual, Amy's face was a study in seriousness. "Did you thank Stone and Eddie? And Tucker?"

"For what?"

Amy kept folding. "For doing their job."

"But this isn't your job."

Amy snapped a sheet in the air, then proceeded to fold it like an army drill sergeant. "It just so happens you needed a cook and I'm good at it. But I can do other stuff, too."

"It's been a while since I've had a thank you thrown back in my face." Callie smiled.

Amy didn't.

Callie sighed, and they continued to work in silence until she couldn't stand it anymore. "You've been here over a week now, right?"

Snap. Amy began to fold another sheet. "Yes."

"Do you like it?"

Amy didn't answer for so long that Callie stopped folding to look at her.

"I like it," Amy finally said.

"And everything is okay?"

Amy looked suspicious. "Why?"

Callie remembered coming to the ranch at about the same age, scared and alone, terrified she'd make a mistake and get kicked out. She'd have done just about anything to avoid that. "Look, I'm not trying to pry but you don't smile very much, and you're so quiet. Marge said she walked by your cabin the other morning when you were coming out and it looked like you hadn't unpacked your bag. I just want to make sure-"

"I'm good." And while she didn't exactly smile, she did look a little less rigid. "Really."

Callie smiled. "Okay, then." She set another folded set of sheets in the basket. "You don't have any reason to know this, but you could talk to me about anything. If you needed to."

"Like what?"

Like who put that haunted look in her eyes. "Anything."

Amy just kept folding.

Ten years ago Callie would have done the same thing, and no one could have convinced her to talk. So they finished folding in silence, and she released Amy from housekeeping duties to start dinner.

Jake showed up while Callie was making the beds. He helped as best as he could with one hand, which is to say he wasn't much help at all.

An hour later, in the last bedroom, he watched her from the other side of the mattress with heavy-lidded eyes as she smoothed out the spread. "We've looked at each other over a lot of beds today." He leaned over the bed, resting his weight on one arm, giving her a secret little smile. "You wanna...?"

"No," she said quickly.

"How do you know what I was going to say?"

"Okay." She folded her arms. "What were you going to say?"

He grinned. "You wanna lock the door and have your merry way with me?"

Her body tingled. Yes. "No. Double no."

He leaned in even closer, lightly tugging on the wayward strand of her hair that was forever escaping its band. "Did you know your pupils dilate when you lie?"

She threw a pillow at him, and he laughed. But he backed off, and when she was done she thought about that.

He walks away.

She thought about that the rest of the evening, through dinner, through visiting Marge in her cabin with her new six stitches, through talking to Stone and Eddie while they fed the animals. By that night she'd have thought she'd fall into bed exhausted, but instead she found herself uncomfortably wide awake and unable to sleep.

She kicked off her covers, pulled her jeans and T-shirt back on, and headed outside. A few cabins down, Lou sat on his front porch, nursing on a long neck. She sat next to him, tipped her head back, and eyed the stars. "You okay?"

"I went to Roger's for my final paycheck. When I got back here, Roger called. More tools are missing. They think I stole them while I was there."

"What? That's ridiculous."

"Yeah. But customers have been asking for me, wanting only me to work on their car. My guess is that Tony feels threatened. He wants to make sure I can't come back."

"Oh, Lou. What can I do to help?"

"Know a cheap attorney?"

She shook her head, and he shook his. "The truth'll come out," he said with a sigh.

"It will," she said fiercely, and hugged him, aching for both him and Marge.

Lou went back inside his cabin and Callie moved across the yard toward the big house and her office. Goose came running. "I don't have a snack," she said in apology, but patted the goose's head before moving on. Eddie sat on the back porch of the big house, smoking. Seemed it was a restless night for a lot of them. "Hey," she said. "What's up?"

He exhaled smoke and didn't look at her. "Don't ask unless you're up for more bad news."

"You get one of those girls you date pregnant?"

He laughed but shook his head.

"You going to jail?"

Another shake of his head but no laugh, and she sat down next to him. "I hate guessing games, Eddie. Just spit it out."

"I'm worried about Stone."

She absorbed that and tried to hide her alarm. "What's happening?"

"You've seen him. He's drinking like our dad. But he says he doesn't have a problem."

"And you think he does."

"I know it. I've lived through it before. I see the signs."

She rubbed her temples. "Okay. I'll talk to him."

"No." He stood and tossed his cigarette, grounding it out beneath his heel. "It'll just make things worse. It's going to have to go all bad before things change. Trust me, I know."

"You're talking about your dad."

He nodded and looked miserable, which was so unlike the usually upbeat Eddie that she wanted to hug him like she'd hugged Lou, but before she could, he walked off into the night.