Megan had agreed to the rodeo. She regretted it as she pulled her Subaru sedan off the two-lane farm road and onto a rutted two-track driveway. At least she thought it was supposed to be a driveway.

She felt like a pushover, because she'd given in after the 15,237th time Julianne had asked.

And partly because Brady hadn't asked.

He didn't ask for things, because he didn't trust her. At least, that's what she'd guessed over the last nine months since she'd been awarded custody of her nephew and niece.

She's not our mom.

Brady's quick temper at the gas station had made her want to curl up in a ball and weep all over again. For what he'd lost. What they'd all lost when her sister and brother-in-law had been in a fatal car accident. Emma and Riley were gone.

One phone call had changed Megan's life, and the kids' lives, too.

Months had passed, and they were still walking on eggshells around each other. Trying to figure out how to do life now.

Thus, the rodeo.

It couldn't be dangerous to watch the rodeo, right?

"This is so exciting," Julianne squealed from the backseat of Megan's sedan. At eight, everything was exciting.

As the car bumped and tilted over the rough off-road terrain, Megan could only pray she wasn't doing irreparable damage to the car. She squinted against the setting sun, trying to find a place to park. She was surrounded by trucks. Finally, she pulled off the rutted lane and parked between two huge farm trucks in the tall field grass.

Hot, humid Texas air and the smell of animal feces hit her as she stepped out of the sedan. The summer grass crunched beneath her sneakers.

Julianne and Brady jumped from the back seat.

"Guys," she warned before they could run off.

They both froze, their energy instantly diminishing. Brady wouldn't look at her.

"What are the rules?" she asked.

"Don't go off by ourselves," Julianne chirped.

"And?"

"Don't eat junk food...?" the girl asked tentatively.

Brady stared off in the distance, chin set at a mulish angle.

She addressed him. "Is there anything you want to add?"

He shot her a glare. "Don't run around. Don't talk to anyone. Don't have any fun."

Well, that was a bit of an exaggeration.

"You know why we have the rules," she reminded them both. "It's not about keeping you from having fun."

"It's about protecting us." His mocking emphasis on the last words didn't go unnoticed, but she let it go.

She followed as they navigated through the sea of trucks and trailers toward a metal-fenced arena, where red dust rose above everything else.

Things had been going well—as well as could be expected, under the circumstances—until the last few weeks. Brady wanted to argue over everything. Felt her rules were too confining.

She didn't know what to do. She knew Emma hadn't let the kids run wild. She was maybe a smidge more strict than Emma had been, but she was still learning her way here too. She'd been working her way through med school when her friends had been having babies. People with kids Julianne and Brady's age had gone through the baby stages, the terrible twos, the beginning of the elementary years.

They knew what they were doing, parenting-wise.

She didn't, no matter the number of parenting books she’d stacked on her nightstand, too tired to crack them open after a full day of work and evening of corralling the kids.

They joined the small crowd—all of whom seemed at home in boots and jeans and fancy cowboy hats. Megan bit her lip to hold back a warning as the kids clambered up the stairs of the bleachers, the shiny new boots she'd bought them upon their arrival in Taylor Hills ringing against the metal.

She scanned for three seats in the first or second rows, hoping that if they stayed low to the ground, it would mitigate any damage if the kids got excited and fell through. No dice.

The kids were already halfway up the bleachers, heading for the mostly-empty top row.

"Guys!"

But they either didn't hear her or were ignoring her.

Someone in the row next to her whooped, and she whipped around, expecting to see a bull rider or something dangerous come into the dirt-packed arena.

It was a tiny boy, no more than four, riding on the back of a... sheep?

The sheep was running around the arena, and the boy was jostled off after a few seconds. A booming announcer called out a time, and the crowd cheered.

Megan turned back to locate the kids, and her heart rate skyrocketed. Where were they?

Wait. There.

Behind a man with a huge ten-gallon hat. Of course on the top row. She moved to join them and sat down on the metal seat. Heat seeped through her jeans and into her skin.

Another sheep-riding little boy entered the arena. This time, the sheep headed directly for the fence and knocked the little boy into it.

Breath caught in her chest as the sheep kept going, but the little boy was caught by his belt and left hanging upside-down on the fence. His hat came off as his head knocked into the railing.

Was he hurt?

She was ready to jump up and rush for her car to get her medical bag when a lanky cowboy dressed as a clown sauntered across the arena and righted the boy. He set the kid on his feet and plopped his cowboy hat back on his head.

The boy waved and the crowd went wild.

Seriously?

These people were crazy.

And Julianne and Brady were cheering along with them.

Across the arena, several cowboys and cowgirls lined the arena fence. The men wore black felt hats while the women had on fancy sequined vests and white hats. Their hair was eighties-big, and Megan almost thought she could smell the Aqua Net from here.

She let her eyes scan for familiar faces. She was not looking for Dan—but she found him anyway, behind some kind of chute, out of the way of most of the action. From this distance, it was impossible to know whether he'd seen her or not.

She didn't know why she was drawn to him, other than the intense flare of attraction she'd experienced in the exam room.

And then he'd witnessed Brady's mini-meltdown at the gas station. Way to make a great impression on the guy.

Not that she had time for dating. She was a single mother now. And she had a thriving, busy practice.

She didn't have time.

Next, the announcer called for the clover leaf barrels.

"Is this for girls?" Julianne asked excitedly.

The ten-gallon-hat man turned and gave her a winning smile. "It sure is. Maybe next time, you'll be down there competing."

Julianne lit up like a firecracker. She turned her bright face on Megan. "Could I?"

"Oh, honey. You don't even know how to ride."

Julianne frowned.

When the first girl, who was about Brady's age, came flying out of the gate, low on her horse's back, Megan knew she'd been right to discourage Julianne.

At that speed, one slip from the saddle, and a little girl could have a traumatic brain injury.

They weren't even wearing helmets!

Megan fought the urge to cover her eyes as girl after girl raced out, looped their horses around three barrels, and then raced back through the gate.

It was like watching a scary movie. She couldn't look away.

The third annual Triple H spring rodeo was in full swing. Dan had no idea what he was doing.

Nate had put him in charge of manning the chute for the steers they'd use in the calf mugging and later for the big bulls. It was hot, and he'd been slobbered and snotted on by two steers already.

The gate clanged open, and he swatted the steer's rump, not that it needed any extra encouragement. It ran into the arena, and he closed the gate, then ushered in the next animal.

He needed to brush his teeth. He’d eaten a bushel of dust already and the night was young. The sun was barely setting. They hadn't kicked on the tall arena lights yet.

He was itching between his shoulder blades again. Had pulled his Stetson down low over his eyes. His ears were hot.

This many folks from town...

He felt the weight of several dozen stares. Knew they were all talking about him. Waiting for him to screw up again.

Maybe he would. But not tonight.

He wouldn't.

Even if he had to stay on the ranch twenty-four seven.

Fifteen minutes ago, he'd overheard one of the bull riders chatting it up with Nate. And heard, "Why'd Hale hire him back on?" He’d known they were talking about him.

Nate's "No idea." had stung more than Dan wanted to admit.

He'd been right about Nate. He would never forgive him. The foreman tolerated Dan but didn't speak to him if he didn't have to.

He'd screwed up their friendship.

He needed to think about something else.

Megan.

He'd seen the doctor show up with her charges almost an hour ago. They'd climbed onto the top of the bleachers.

For some reason, he couldn't seem to stop glancing her way. Unlike many of the folks in the crowd, she didn't seem to have visited the food truck that'd set up on the edge of the parking grounds. No sign of corn dogs or pretzels for her. Was she a health nut? Because of her profession?

His curiosity about the good doctor couldn't be a good thing. He needed to keep his head down and remember the vow he'd made to himself. Pay back the Hales and get out. Even if it took him ten years. Or thirty. He was determined to do it.

But he also couldn't help noticing the way the doctor kept covering her eyes. Like right now, as the kid in the arena roped his calf and jumped off his horse. A glance in the stands revealed the doctor with both hands cupping the sides of her eyes, hiding.

Seriously?

She was adorable.

Why had she come, if the rodeo freaked her out? Was it for the kids? The kids who weren't hers.

"Hey."

A female voice interrupted his musings, and, for one microsecond, his heart leapt as if it were the doctor.

It was Kelsey, his boss's very pregnant wife. At his elbow with a dripping, ice-cold bottled water.

"Thought you might need to wash down some of that dust you're eating."

Through the bars, he took it from her. "Thanks." And then because he couldn't help it, "Aren't you supposed to be resting?"

He didn't know details but had overheard enough to know that she was supposed to be on bed rest during this last part of her pregnancy.

Right now, she braced one hand on her lower back, looking slightly miserable in a maternity shirt and jeans and... flip flops?

She followed his gaze down but grimaced when she realized she couldn't see her feet. "I can't get my boots on any more," she admitted. "I wanted to watch Miles ride. He's up next, isn't he?"

Nate and Kayla's adopted son was roping for the first time tonight, and the whole spread was anxious on his behalf. Even Dan, though he wouldn't admit it.

Her eyes caught on something over his shoulder. He craned his neck to look. There was Matt, looking like thunder and heading for his wife, though still yards away.

"And it looks like I'm going right back into the house to lie down on the couch."

Dan looked back at her, saw the pout.

"It's boring. I can't see anything, even from the living room window."

"I'm sor—" He didn't get the words out before she went pale. One hand clutched her stomach. and she reached out and grabbed onto the outside of the chute.

"Hold up," he shouted to the guy working the chute's lever several feet away. He stepped onto the bottom railing of the chute and used his momentum to propel himself over the top. He was halfway over when he remembered the stitches. Remembered because he could feel them tearing apart.

He made it just in time as she fainted dead away.

He caught her, lifted her, and turned.

"Kelsey." Matt scooped her out of Dan's arms. His face was almost as white as his wife's had been, his eyes wide. "What should I do?"

Nate had seen the whole thing and joined them. "Want me to call an ambulance?"

"I don’t—" Matt muttered.

"The doctor's here," Dan blurted.

Both Matt and Nate turned identical hard looks on him, and he almost wished he'd kept his mouth closed.

But he liked Kelsey. She didn't treat him like dirt.

"I saw her in the stands."

"Go get her," Matt ordered as he strode off toward the ranch house, his wife in his arms.

Something had happened, over by the chute where all the huge, scary animals kept coming from. A fight? Or something else? She'd seen Dan go up and over the metal chute in a move that would've been beautiful if she hadn't known about his injury.

The rodeo stalled out for several moments, and then Megan was shocked when a shrill whistle came from behind her.

Julianne nudged her. "Look."

Megan glanced over the railing behind them, down the dizzying one-story height, to see Dan there.

"Come down," he called. "We need your help."

What was going on?

Adrenaline pumping, she grabbed Julianne's sweaty hand. "Come on," she told Brady.

He grunted, looked like he wanted to refuse, but followed them down the bleachers. Their shoes clanged against the metal, rattling her. Dan met them at the bottom step, another good-looking cowboy behind him.

Dan was out of breath.

"Did you tear your stitches?" she blurted. She shouldn't have. HIPAA protected what he'd revealed in her office, but seeing so many kids and adults doing dangerous stunts in the arena had her on edge. And she'd seen him jump.

And her mouth just ran away with her.

"What? No."

The man behind him scowled. "What stitches?"

Dan ignored him, his focus on Megan. "My boss's wife just collapsed. She's pregnant. Can you come help her?"

Megan felt herself slip into physician mode. "Where?" Then, "I need my bag."

"I can get it for you." Dan almost looked surprised at his own offer. Was that a blush rising in his face? The arena lights and the shadows where they stood beside the bleachers made it hard to tell. She wished she had time to try and make sense of his reaction.

"Want to come with me? Show me your... car?" He addressed Brady, stumbling over the words a bit, as if he'd been going to say mom again but thought better of it.

The cowboy behind him muttered something under his breath. Dan must've heard it. His jaw went rigid, but he didn't say anything else.

"Sure. Okay." She dug in her hip pocket for the keys. "Remember where we parked?" she asked Brady.

He gave her a look only a pre-teen boy could pull off. "Duh."

She kept Julianne's hand. Couldn't help looking over her shoulder as she followed the unnamed cowboy toward a two-story ranch house set away from all the rodeo commotion.

Dan and Brady disappeared into the parking area. The man's shoulders were set and tense.

"I'm Nate. I run the Triple H," the cowboy barked, drawing her attention back. "You the new doc in town?"

"Megan Fuller." She was huffing as she tried to keep up with his long strides, Julianne practically running beside her. "This is my niece Julianne. And my nephew Brady went—"

"With Dan," Nate said flatly. "You wanna tell me about these stitches he has?"

"I can't," she said. "Patient privacy laws. I shouldn't have even mentioned... what I mentioned."

He nodded, the set of his face hard.

And then they reached the yard. The two-story house rose out of the shadows above them. It was lovely, an older-style farmhouse with the kind of wrap-around porch that invited you to sit and stay a while. Lights blazed from all the first-floor windows.

"C'mon in.” The cowboy strode up the steps and across the porch. He pushed open the door. “It’s me with the doc.”

Megan tried to shake off her awareness of the tension that had flowed between the two cowboys. Even though curiosity stabbed her like an out-of-control scalpel. She didn’t have time for curiosity. She had a patient inside.