Marisa was right, Ace thought. He had a real hard time with rejection.

The next afternoon, Ace sat in the ranch office entering data into his computer, but his mind kept straying to last night at the care center.

Marisa had come in and out of her brother’s room several times before Ace had left for his AA meeting, but she hadn’t stayed long. He’d tried giving her a call after her shift ended, but she hadn’t answered. So, he’d texted her a couple of times, and again, heard nothing.

Okay, maybe she was exhausted. The ranch trip, meant as a refresher, must have taken too much out of her.

Or she’d decided to freeze him out again to protect her brother from any more accidents.

He leaned back in his office chair and stared blankly at the screen.

Fear, his pals in AA had reminded him, was a powerful motivator. Marisa had operated on fear, exhaustion and hyper-responsibility too long. Ace wished he could do something about it.

He typed a few more entries, checked his stocks, and pushed up from the desk. Might as well knock off for the day. His mind wouldn’t stop thinking about Marisa.

He shot a text to Nate and Gilbert. “If you don’t need my help, I’m heading to Clay City.”

Gilbert’s reply was instant. “Go. We’re finishing up with the hay meadow now.”

Nate’s text was more personal. “You’ve got it bad.”

Ace shot back a distorted smiley face, pocketed the phone and headed for his truck. He hadn’t been pulling his weight around the ranch, and he knew it. The rest of the family said they understood. He was glad someone did. He sure didn’t.

Right now, all he could think of was finding out why Marisa had suddenly put him on the naughty list again.

He’d never visited her other job, but the PI had given him the address of Kids’ Care Playschool, and he found it easily.

The problem was, he didn’t see her car in the parking lot.

Now, he was really worried. Had she been coming down with the flu or something catastrophic like the Zika virus? And if she was sick, who was with her? She took care of Chance, little kids, the seniors, and everyone else, but who would take care of her?

He parked and went to the door. This one, too, had a security code box. Marisa and the children she loved were safe here. He, on the other hand, was stuck outside. So he pecked on the glass until a stout blonde with short hair and a kind expression opened it a crack.

“May I help you?”

Ace removed his hat and offered his most charming smile. “I’m Ace Caldwell, a friend of Marisa’s. I don’t see her car in the parking lot. Is she home sick today?”

The woman’s smile fell away. Crashed, actually.

Ace’s adrenaline jacked. Something had happened to Marisa. Something bad. “What’s wrong? Is she okay?”

“As far as I know, she’s fine, but Marisa doesn’t work here anymore.”

Ace did a slow blink, stupefied. “She doesn’t?”

“No. We had some cutbacks and…” The woman began to withdraw. “It really isn’t my place to discuss this. Maybe you should give her a call.”

“I’ll do that.” Stunned, bewildered, Ace pivoted on his boots.

Marisa had lost her job. She’d said nothing about it last night because she didn’t want to worry Chance.

No wonder she’d been upset.

Marisa didn’t know what she was going to do.

With a moan, she leaned an elbow on the tiny round dining table and stared at her new budget. No matter how she manipulated the numbers, she was in big trouble.

Earlier today, she’d applied for work in three places and filled out four more online applications, but none had seemed promising. The hours at Kids’ Care had blended perfectly with her job at Sunset Manor. Where else would she find an employer so accommodating? It wasn’t as if she was in high demand. Other than her nurse’s aide certification, she had no job skills.

She had nowhere to turn except God, and she almost felt ashamed to bother Him now. For the past year, she’d let work and worry crowd out their relationship. Her fault.

Chest burdened to the point of rupture, she began to whisper a prayer, letting all the fear and anxiety tumble out in the empty room. Except it wasn’t empty. Jesus had promised never to leave nor forsake her, and she’d clung to that promise from foster care into adulthood.

Tears dripped onto the yellow notepad with little plops. A louder noise broke through her prayers.

Someone was at the door. Probably the mailman with another certified letter from a collection agency.

The day couldn’t get worse. Might as well get this over with.

Heaving a sigh as heavy as her heart, Marisa blotted her face and went to answer.

Ace stood on her concrete slab. She didn’t have the energy to slam the door in his face. Truth was, she needed a friend.

Without saying a word, she stepped back and held the door open. Ace, all lean, muscled six feet of him, came right in.

He towered over her, and though she tried to keep him from seeing her red, watery eyes, he saw anyway.

He touched her tear-stained cheek. His tone tender enough to break her, he said, “I heard about the job. Are you okay?”

Too down to ask how he’d heard, she uttered a wobbly whisper. “No.”

Marisa didn’t know how it happened, but in the next instant, she was in Ace’s arms. His long fingers cupped the back of her head. He stroked the other hand up and down her back, soothing as she would one of her daycare kids. But the kids weren’t hers anymore.

The tears threatened to start up again. “I don’t know what I’m going to do.” The words were muffled against his shirt.

“How can I help? Anything you need. I’ll do it.” His tone was soft and ragged, full of emotion that went straight to her heart.

For once, she wasn’t angered by his offer of help. She was touched. Ace was being kind, and she appreciated the effort. But she’d been on her own forever. No use getting clingy now and expecting more than he could give.

She drew away from his comforting presence but instantly wished to be back in his arms. Though she’d never expected to think such a thing again, Ace offered a strong, solid security she desperately needed. She’d never needed anyone.

“There’s nothing you can do.” Even though she wished there was. “No one seems to be hiring unskilled labor.”

“You can use the break, Marisa. You’re exhausted.”

The statement drove her over the edge. Despair and frustration forced words out of her mouth. Naturally a man like Ace wouldn’t understand.

“Don’t you get it? Without this month’s paycheck, I can’t afford to pay for Chance’s care. He’ll be forced to move out of Sunset Manor!”

As soon as the words hit the air, Marisa dropped her head backwards and groaned. She hadn’t wanted Ace to know how dire the situation was. “Forget I said that. Things will work out. They always do.”

He couldn’t possibly understand her plight. He’d always had job security, money, and a family to lean on.

Ace took hold of her upper arms. “I don’t think so. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be this distraught. Tell me all of it.”

“I said, we will be fine.” But she felt herself weakening.

He gazed down into her eyes long enough to make her squirm. He knew she was lying. A twinge of guilt poked at her conscience. She hated being lied to.

He tugged her toward the sofa. “Tell me. Together, we’ll figure this out.”

Part of her still feared trusting Ace Caldwell, but the other part was desperate to find answers for her brother. Chance came first, above her fears, above her bizarre, unshakable attachment to this cowboy.

As she lowered to the couch, the worn piece of furniture sagged in the middle. She scooted to one end. The cushion rode up. Ace smashed it down as he sat beside her.

He didn’t, she noticed for the hundredth time, smell like beer. That much she could trust. He smelled of pressed cotton shirt and woodsy cologne. And cinnamon. She’d always loved the way he smelled just as she loved the way he held her. When he wasn’t drinking.

If she could only believe he’d changed for good. Her parents never had, though they’d promised dozens of times through the years.

“Everything’s such a mess.” She was confused, worried, and broke. How much worse could it get?

Ace listened as Marisa finally shared her burdens. They were many and serious. Most he knew from the private investigator’s report, although hearing them from her, knowing she trusted him enough to talk, patched a hole in his chest.

When she blurted her worries about Chance and got all glassy-eyed again, he moved near enough to get his arm around her shoulders. She stiffened only for a moment before tilting her head against his side. She needed him, and it felt good. He dropped a kiss on her hair, a kiss of compassion and connection, expecting nothing in return. No agenda. No strings attached.

He wasn’t that guy anymore.

His heart ached for this strong woman who’d fought the world by herself every day of her life. How could he make her understand that she didn’t have to be alone anymore?

Words wouldn’t suffice. She only trusted actions, and his hadn’t been stellar for too long.

Trust broken took a long time to rebuild, but he was up for the challenge. He wanted Marisa to lean on him. He wanted to be her hero.

He asked a few questions here and there, but eventually she ran dry and went silent. They sat together on the saggy old couch, his head resting on hers and hers against his side. She fit so beautifully this way that he never wanted to move.

But he had to. Problems wouldn’t resolve themselves while he admired Marisa’s soft hair and feminine curves.

Redirecting his thoughts, he prayed for wisdom and direction. The only answer that occurred to him would probably make her mad, but he was a man of action, a problem solver. That’s why he was CEO of a spread as big as The Triple C even though Nate was the oldest. Nate was hands-on with the animals and understood them better than Ace ever would. Management was Ace’s style and strength. Right now, he wanted to put those skills to work.

“I have a plan,” he said. “We’ll move him to the ranch.”

“What?” Marisa jerked upright and scooted all the way to the end of the couch, gray eyes wide.

Maybe he should have worked his way up to the ranch suggestion.

Bringing his knee up on the now protruding couch cushion, he pivoted in her direction. He’d rather she move close again, but from her horrified expression, she wasn’t likely to do that any time soon.

“The ranch is the perfect solution. The guest house can be made accessible with minimal effort. We’ll have it fixed up in no time, and the rent is free. He can live there.”

“Do you realize how ridiculous that sounds? Who would take care of him?”

“You would, until he can handle things on his own.” Ace was convinced Chance could be independent again. Other paras were. Why not Chance?

“In case you’ve forgotten, I have a job. Only one, but still a job that pays the bills.” She winced. “Some of the bills. And buys food and gasoline and all the other little necessities you seem to have forgotten about.”

“We’ll figure it out. There are plenty of people on the ranch who can look out for Chance while you’re at work.”

Dark hair that moments before had brushed his cheek swished against her pink shirt. “No.”

“Why? Because it’s my idea?”

“Because no one else should be responsible for my brother except me.”

“Why?”

“Would you stop asking me that question?”

An ornery grin tugged at his lips. He couldn’t help himself. “Why?”

Marisa snarled at him and then chuckled. “Don’t make me laugh. This is serious business.”

“Yes, and my idea has value. You can’t afford the care center, and Chance despises the place anyway.” Ace took her hand. Her fingers lay loose and limp, but she didn’t yank away. He took that as a good sign.

Drawing on the persuasive techniques he used to sell bulls for a premium price and negotiate cattle and land deals, he pressed his argument. “Don’t you think he’d be happier on a ranch? Those folks at Sunset are nice people, but no one there is anywhere close to Chance’s age.”

“He could have friends visit if he wanted.”

“But he doesn’t want to. One”—Ace held up a finger—“he’s embarrassed to live in a senior facility, and two”—he ticked up another finger—“he doesn’t want anyone to view him as a cripple. We can fix both of those by moving him to the ranch.”

Her laugh was harsh. “Oh, sure. Right. Do you think he’ll magically regrow his spinal cord just because he’s on your ranch?”

“Look.” Ace scooted a little closer. “He’s been depressed and refused to assist in his own recovery. Right?”

“I’m afraid so.”

“A change of scenery could make all the difference.”

“A handicapped-accessible guest house doesn’t solve everything, Ace.”

“You need a solution right away, at least a temporary one. Think of my offer in that vein. As temporary. You can always change your mind after you find another job.” And he’d do his best to convince her not to. “In the meantime, you’ll have all day with your brother.” And with me. “In the evenings, he can have dinner with us, hang with the family for a while, and then be sound asleep in the guest house when you get home.”

She brushed a hand over the top of her head, pausing at the crown to stare at nothing and consider. He thought she might be weakening. “I don’t know.”

Ace pressed the advantage. “Free rent, fresh air and sunshine, and good friends all around him are the perfect solution. And he loves Connie’s cooking.”

He didn’t add the rest. Not yet. Once she realized he was right, he’d share his other plans for her baby brother.

Marisa shot a glance at the round-faced watch she always wore and hopped up. “I have to go to work.”

“I’ll get out of here so you can get ready, but think about everything I said, okay?” He caught her hand again and squeezed. “Pray about it.”

She licked her lips, a sure sign of uncertainty, and nodded. “Okay.”

That was the best answer he’d get from her today. But Ace had made up his mind, and when he believed in something strong enough, he was a bulldozer.