Ace stretched out on the chaise lounge, bare feet crossed at the ankles, pondering the day’s events. He’d done little else since Chance’s fall. Was this his fault? Should he have thought about a portable ramp for use at the pond? Maybe. Probably.

Even though Chance was a grown man, Ace had promised Marisa that nothing would happen. And it had.

At his side, a bag of cinnamon candy lay open. He had one candy in his mouth and one at the ready. This was definitely a double cinnamon night. Maybe a cup of chamomile too.

Connie had tried to talk to him when he’d returned from taking the Foreman duo home, but he hadn’t been in the mood.

If ever he should want a drink, it was now, but strangely, he didn’t. He wanted Chance to be healthy. He wanted Marisa to forgive him. Maybe he wanted more than that from her, but it wasn’t only what he wanted. It was about her happiness. About making her life easier and better. Marisa deserved so much more than she’d ever gotten.

His cell phone lay on his chest atop the white-and-orange Oklahoma State T-shirt he’d thrown on over a pair of boxers after a long, contemplative shower. He did some of his best thinking under a warm spray of water.

He rolled the candy with his tongue and glanced at the clock. Not that late.

She probably didn’t want to hear from him.

He tapped the icon of her smiling face anyway. He’d taken the photo at the care center weeks ago. She’d been laughing with Chance at some silly YouTube video and had cringed when he’d unexpectedly snapped the picture. Ace had looked at it a thousand times. She was so pretty with those soft gray eyes and that clear, smooth skin, her dark hair swept back from her face and shiny pink studs in her ears.

He listened to the phone’s brrr, surprisingly nervous, but every bit as compelled to hear Marisa’s voice and assure himself that she was all right.

She didn’t pick up for the longest time, and he suspected she was ignoring him. Caller ID had its drawbacks. He let it ring anyway.

Breathless, her voice came over the line. A thrill tingled the skin on his arms.

“Are you speaking to me?” he asked softly.

“Apparently.”

His heart thundered. He didn’t know if she was joking or serious. “You okay?”

“I wasn’t the injured party.”

Yes, you were. In so many ways, I hurt you. Maybe not today, but I hurt you. God forgive me.

“Chance?” he asked.

“As soon as he got settled in bed, the charge nurse checked him over thoroughly. No serious injuries. He thinks I overreacted.”

Ace let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. Her reaction had been over the top. He’d watched Chance fall. The short, quick tumble hadn’t been serious enough to do anything more than bump and scrape, but the medical confirmation relieved Marisa. He could hear it in her voice.

“You were upset.”

“Terrified.”

“Understandable.”

A tick of silence and then that soft, smooth-as-butter voice. “When did you become so understanding?”

“After I needed a lot of it for myself.”

“Oh.”

In that one little breathy word, he heard her contemplation. She’d never asked about the dark journey he’d been on. She’d been on one of her own at the same time, though hers hadn’t been her fault.

Pulse ticking against his collarbone like a tiny hammer of uncertainty, he said, “I had fun today until the accident. Did you?”

A hesitation, and then Marisa’s murmur tickled his ear. And maybe his ego. “Yes.”

Hope sprang up. She really didn’t hate him. She might want to, but she didn’t. “We could do it again.”

“I don’t think so.”

“If not here at the ranch, somewhere else. Anywhere you want to go.”

“For Chance?”

No. A date. You and me. But he didn’t say that. She’d hang up on him if he did.

“Whatever you want it to be.”

“I’ll think about it.”

The waltz moved forward again. Progress. He’d take it. “I’m not sorry I kissed you. It was…beautiful.”

That silenced her for a few seconds. He could hear her soft breathing and wished he was with her in the flesh. He’d kiss her again.

“Chance wouldn’t have fallen if—”

He could practically see her biting her lip.

“Ifs are futile, Marisa. I learned that the hard way. You can’t undo what’s been done.” He could only move forward and pray for forgiveness and not to mess up any more.

She went silent again, the truck wreck a ghost between them waiting to jump out and send them both scurrying to their safe places.

He wanted to be her safe place, to protect her and give her all the things she’d never had. Ace rubbed a palm down the front of his shirt, over the orange letters that covered his heart. He owed her big time. Chance too. But something else stirred, down deep where he couldn’t see yet.

“I should go,” she murmured.

Ace uncrossed his ankles and sat up. He’d lost her. “Tired?”

“A little.”

“Tomorrow, then?”

Her quiet chuckle came through the line. “Can I stop you?”

His mood buoyed. She’d laughed. Maybe he hadn’t lost her after all.

“No. I’ll be there.”

“Tomorrow then.” And the line went dead.

Monday’s alarm clock seemed to ring earlier than on any other day of the week.

Marisa fumbled for the silence button atop the device and dragged herself upright, the comforter falling to her waist. She wouldn’t be so tired if she’d gone to sleep after the phone call from Ace. The trouble was, she hadn’t. A slideshow of the outing, of Ace, of kissing him, of Chance’s fall and subsequent injuries, played in her head over and over again.

Groggy, she shoved her hair back and stumbled to the bathroom for a face splash and to dress for the day.

Chance said she’d overreacted. Had she? She’d certainly overreacted to Ace, but try as she might, and Lord knew she’d tried, she couldn’t regret their improved relationship. Hating him had worn her out. Granted, the truce was shaky, but it was still a relief.

The kissing? Well, that was something totally different to consider.

And consider Marisa did as she readied for her shift at the daycare center in stretchy capris and a loose blue top. Ace always commented when she wore blue. Not that she would see him before tonight or that she even cared what he thought.

Yes, you do.

With a groan, she smoothed a hand over the gauzy shirt and, after grabbing an apple from the kitchen, headed to work.

A hint of sunrise teased the horizon when she pulled into the parking space. Gray shadows still shrouded the landscape, visible but vague. Janey’s SUV was already here, and the lights were on inside Kids’ Care, as usual, though they had five minutes to spare before the doors officially opened at six.

Three cars pulled into the lot behind her. The day had begun for some parents and their children. Getting up and ready this early was hard for her. She couldn’t imagine the challenge of adding a child to the morning rush. But she wouldn’t mind trying if life hadn’t thrown Chance such a terrible curveball. Now, she tried not to the think of the family she’d always longed for but had only experienced vicariously.

Inside the daycare, Janey came out of her office and greeted her with a tight nod before unlocking the front doors. Marisa frowned at her boss’s back. Janey was normally a cheerful, energetic morning person. Was something wrong?

When she heard Janey’s boisterous laugh at something one of the parents said, Marisa shook off the odd sense of foreboding, clocked in and went to her classroom to set up for the day. Only little Mattie arrived this early, and the toddler would sleep until the rest of the children arrived.

Clare stumbled through the classroom door toting a giant travel mug, blurry eyed, her red hair in a messy bun.

“Rough weekend?”

Clare moaned. “You don’t even want to know.” She plunked her cup on a shelf. “But I’ll tell you anyway.”

Marisa chuckled. “How did I know you’d say that?”

“Paul and I went to a pool party last night that lasted way too late. We played water polo, among other crazy, muscle destroying games, chased each other with giant water guns, played volleyball, and didn’t crawl home until after one.”

Marisa fought a pinch of envy. “Sounds fun.”

“Every muscle in my body hurts.”

“That part doesn’t sound so fun.”

The redhead laughed. “It was worth it. Paul is now convinced we need to save up for one of those above-ground pools. They’re not that expensive.”

They were to Marisa, though she’d wondered if water therapy would be beneficial to Chance. If she could afford a pool for Chance…but she couldn’t. “I hope you get one. Both of you work hard. You need to kick back and have fun when you can.”

“So do you.” Clare sipped from her cup, put it aside and began gathering items for today’s lesson plan on texture and touch. “But you never go anywhere.”

“Sure I do. I went fishing yesterday.”

The other teacher narrowed her eyes. “Fishing? With who?”

Marisa pulled a plastic box from a shelf and took out a set of finger puppets for circle time. “My brother.”

“Oh.” Clare’s shoulders dropped in mock despair. “I was hoping some hottie had finally caught your eye.”

Marisa turned her attention to filling sippy cups with milk for breakfast.

Clare came around in front of her. “You got too quiet too fast. Was there anybody else along besides your brother?”

She snapped a lid onto a pink cup. “Nobody important.”

“Then why are you blushing?”

“I’m not.” But she touched her warm cheeks anyway.

“Come on. Spill it. Who is he and where have you been hiding him?”

“He’s…a friend. The fishing trip was something he wanted to do for Chance, and they allowed me to tag along. That’s all.”

“How good of a friend? I’ve never seen you blush before. He’s got to be pretty special.” Clare got the ABC place mats from the cupboard.

“Long story.”

“We have all day.”

Marisa laughed in spite of her discomfort. “Ace and I dated in the past, and that’s all I’m going to say about him.”

“But—”

With a head shake, Marisa saluted her friend with the last sippy cup and went to the doorway to greet the first parent of the day. Some things couldn’t be discussed. Not yet. Not until she figured out what to do about Ace Caldwell.

The first two hours passed in the usual business of settling toddlers in for the day, getting them fed, toileted, and into free play.

Marisa was sitting on the mat rolling a ball back and forth to two little boys when Janey stepped into the classroom.

“Marisa, could you come into my office for a minute, please?”

Marisa’s stomach lurched. The boss didn’t look happy.

“Okay.” She directed the two boys to roll the ball to one another and followed an unusually silent Janey down the short hall. Tension tightened Marisa’s shoulders. Something was wrong. She could feel it.

The inside of Janey’s office was like the woman, cheerful and kid-oriented. Photos of her grown children with her grandchildren lined her desk. Four kids and seven grandkids. Like Marisa, Janey adored children.

The boss motioned toward one of a pair of blue padded chairs. “Sit down, Marisa. We need to talk.”

Janey lacked her usual smile.

Growing more anxious by the second, Marisa lowered herself to the seat. She gripped the chair arms. “Have I done something wrong?”

“Not at all.” A distressed frown wrinkled Janey’s forehead. “The children and parents love you, and you’ve been a great employee.”

Marisa’s pulse jumped, pounded.

She’d been a great employee?

“I appreciate that. I love teaching kids, and this job means a lot to me.”

“I know, I know.” Janey drew in a deep breath and sighed, the sound heavy and troubled. “That’s what makes this so difficult.”

Marisa went from foreboding to full blown terror. She was afraid to speak, afraid to ask. She stared at her boss, hoping her fears were unsubstantiated.

They weren’t.

“I’m so sorry, Marisa. Believe me, if there was a way to avoid this, I would, but with the new daycare taking so many of our kids, we don’t need you anymore.”

“But my class has lost only one child. Clare can’t handle all our students alone.”

“Currently, the one-year-old class has three teachers and now only needs two. I’m moving Veronica into your position. She’s been here more than a year.”

And Marisa had been here less than half that.

“I see.”

“Please understand, you aren’t being fired. This is a layoff. I’d keep you on if I could. I wrestled with the books all weekend trying to come up with another solution. You were meant to work with children. I mean that. But I can’t afford any extras right now.”

Marisa nodded, numb. All the compliments in the world wouldn’t pay the bills. “When is my last day?”

Let it be the end of the month. Give me time to job hunt and juggle the bills again.

“I’m afraid it’s today. Veronica will take over after lunch.” Janey stood. “I’ll be glad to give you a glowing reference.”

Somehow Marisa managed a “thank you” and left the office.

No matter what Janey called it, the result was the same. She’d been fired.

After a long day of loading feeder cattle into eighteen-wheelers bound for Kansas, Ace hit the showers before the drive to Clay City.

Yesterday had been shaky, but he and Marisa had ended on a good note. He’d wanted to call or text her all day, but he’d been too busy and figured she was too.

He was anxious to see her again.

As he aimed his truck toward the highway, he pondered his happy mood. He should be dead tired, but energy flowed through every cell. Energy generated by Marisa.

And Chance, of course, though somewhere along the way, his desire to bring Chance out of his shell had expanded to include a renewed relationship with Marisa.

He gnawed at a cinnamon disk and pondered this pleasant revelation.

Had he progressed far enough in his recovery to start something new with a woman?

Yeah, he thought he had. A Clay City AA meeting was scheduled for later tonight, so he’d make his visit with Chance short enough to attend. Some of the other men had walked this road before him. He’d talk to them and get their take, but he thought he was good to go.

Once he arrived in Clay City, he made a stop at Walmart before heading into Sunset Manor with a package beneath his arm.

Chance was in his wheelchair, perusing the iPad Ace had left for him. When Ace entered the room, he glanced up, one very bruised and puffy eye barely a slit.

“Whoa, Pal. What a shiner!”

The red scrape started on Chance’s cheekbone and extended up over one eye and onto his forehead. When he grinned, his eye completely disappeared.

“I told the nurses I was breaking up a fight. Two women vying for my attention.” Chance pumped his eyebrows. “Back me up, will you? They think I’m a rock star or something.”

Ace bounced a fist against his chest. “I saw the whole thing. Gorgeous, both of them. Is the eye the worst of it?”

Chance held up his arm, bent at the elbow. A white bandage extended from wrist to elbow. “When I went down, my arm hit first, sheared the edge of the pallet and left behind some skin. Marisa insisted on this dressing, but it’s only a scrape.”

“She was scared.”

“I know.” Chance’s cheerful mood dampened. “I shouldn’t have tried such a dumb stunt. If I’d stayed right here in this room like she wanted me to, this wouldn’t have happened.”

“You hate this place.”

“I might as well get used to it.”

They weren’t going back to square one if Ace could help it. “So what’re you saying?”

“I’m saying I should listen to my sister and stay safely where no one has to pick me up off the ground like a helpless baby.”

“Bull feathers. That’s not your style.” Ace dragged a straight-backed chair he’d commandeered from the nurses up close to Chance’s side. “I’ve attended a lot of the ballgames you coached. What did you always say to your players when they lost the first game of a tournament?”

Chance narrowed his good eye in contemplation. Ace could see the wheels turning and the lotto numbers falling into place.

Slowly, Chance nodded and the familiar phrases rolled off his tongue. “Shake it off. You know your opponent now. Come back stronger next time.”

Ace pointed an index finger. “There you go then. You had a fall. Got a little bruised but survived and learned. Now, shake it off and come back stronger.”

The young man huffed. “This isn’t baseball.”

“No, but I’ve learned a lot of things in AA, and one of them is this: The game of life will beat you if you let it. That’s the key. If you let it. You don’t have to let it happen.” He whipped the rolled poster from beneath his arm. “Brought you something.”

Chance eyed the giant piece of paper. “What is that?”

“Be patient, coach. You’re about to gloat.” Choosing the spot most visible from anywhere in the room, especially the bed, Ace swaggered to the wall parallel to Chance’s footboard. “Marisa won’t mind if I move this.”

“You’ll be doing me a favor, but don’t tell her I said that. If I have to look at those smiling kitty cats one more day, I’ll cry.”

“True. She could have chosen something manly cool like this.” With a flourish, Ace smoothed the poster against the wall and, using the handful of thumb tacks in his shirt pocket, secured each corner. “Get a load of that bad boy.”

He stepped to the side, his hopeful gaze on Chance.

A smile, distorted by the black eye but wide enough to crack his jaw, spread across the younger man’s face. His eyes glowed. He leaned forward in his chair, and then finally rolled closer to stare at the giant version of himself and the massive bass he’d caught yesterday. The smile on his face then was the same as it was now. Minus a little distortion from the black eye.

“That’s awesome, Ace. How did you do this?”

Ace’s chest swelled like a hot air balloon. “The wonders of digital print and one hour photo. You like it?”

Tipped back in his chair, expression cocky, Chance tapped his chest. “Bragging rights are mine for a long time.”

“Not if I can get you back out on that pond.”

The cocky look dissipated. “I don’t know, Ace.”

“What do you mean, you don’t know?” Ace moved in front of Chance’s chair and stacked his fists on his hips. “I demand a rematch. You can’t take a man down without giving him a chance to redeem himself.”

Some of Chance’s spark returned. He straightened slightly and eyed the poster. “I did beat the socks off you, didn’t I? All you caught was a wimpy couple of pounds.”

“Don’t rub in it.”

Once again, the slow grin moved over Chance’s bruised face. “Why not? You would.”

Relief eased through Ace. They were back on teasing ground, the dark mood gone. The poster had been genius, but Ace refused to take credit for it. He’d prayed. The idea had come.

“You’re right. I would.” He tapped a knuckle against the poster. “My rod and reel, so you owe me a rematch.”

Chance blew out a derisive huff. “I’ll just catch him again, or a bigger one. You won’t stand a chance.”

“Prove it, buddy. Put your money where your mouth is. Next Sunday afternoon. You. Me. The big bass.”

Chance punched a fist against his palm. “Prepare for defeat. You’re on.”

Marisa chose that moment to breeze into the room, and Ace decided this was a good time to keep quiet. They’d break the news about another trip to the ranch after she’d had time to recover from yesterday’s scare. Chance, apparently, had the same thought because he avoided her eyes.

And speaking of eyes, hers appeared red and swollen. Ace stepped toward her. “What’s wrong? Have you been crying?”

She was tough. She never cried.

“Allergies.” Avoiding his intense scrutiny, she dipped her head and fluttered around Chance without her usual false cheer. She checked his bandage, asked if he needed anything, and started to the door. She hadn’t even hugged her brother.

Something was off. Way off. He’d never known Marisa to have “allergies.”

“Marisa?”

She paused but didn’t turn around. “We’re busy on the floor. I can’t stay and play.”

The tone was terse, not at all the sweet voice he’d loved hearing last night. The voice that had given him this crazy hope.

“Can we talk later?”

“Not tonight. I’m really tired.” She hurried out of the room.

The two men exchanged glances and then stared in bewilderment at the doorway.

“She never even mentioned my awesome poster,” Chance said. “Wonder what’s going on?”

“She said she was tired.”

“You think that’s all?”

Not wanting to worry his friend, Ace nodded. “Sure.”

But she was always tired, so he didn’t think that was the whole story.

His heart, energized moments ago, slowly descended, an elevator going down, down. Was it the fiasco at the pond and Chance’s injuries, however slight? Or was it him? He knew she’d felt guilty for being with him when Chance fell. Did she regret last night’s warm, almost tender conversation?

Had Marisa decided to despise him yet again?