Marisa soaked in the tranquil woods and the complex cowboy walking beside her. Ace was different in his sanctuary. And for the first time, her eyes had been opened to a truth she’d never considered. He, too, had suffered loss. He, too, ached with an emptiness that could never be satisfied, no matter how much money he had or how charmed his life appeared to be. Like her, he’d suffered a mother wound. The acknowledgement made her feel closer to him.

They’d prayed together. She couldn’t get over the emotion of kneeling at that altar, her hands clasped with Ace’s, both their spirits lifted toward heaven. A holy moment, it had connected her to this cowboy in a way nothing else could have.

Now, hand on her elbow, a quiet, thoughtful Ace led her around to the side of the tiny chapel to a gravesite.

She knew before they approached the stone and read the names. “Your parents.”

“Mom asked to be buried here, and of course, Dad wanted to be next to her.”

Marisa rubbed her fingers over the shiny black granite topped by a pair of white doves. “Who chose the stone?”

“Dad.”

Marisa traced the birds, their heads together, the small one snuggled against the larger one.

“Doves,” she said softly, and thought how tragic and romantic the gesture had been.

“Mated for life.”

Her eyes flashed to his. “That’s beautiful.”

“I think so too.” He squatted to pluck weeds from around the base. “I want the same thing. When the time is right.”

Her heart stilled. “Want what?”

He looked up at her, holding her gaze until her throat filled with emotion. “A love like my parents had, one that doesn’t end.”

“I’ve always wondered if love like that is possible.”

His eyes never leaving hers, Ace rose, a few straggly weeds falling from his fingers.

Marisa took one step closer, surprising herself. His eyes widened, but he took another step until they were heart to heart.

“Love is what two people decide to make it.” His face moved closer and closer to hers.

Her body tingled with wanting him. “Is that what’s happening between us?”

“I never wanted our break up.” He shook his head, expression haunted. “Never wanted to be away from you or to cause you grief or—”

She placed a finger on his tempting lips. His warm breath blew goosebumps down her arms. “Me either.”

“You didn’t?”

“No.” The admission made her vulnerable, but she’d recalled Whitney’s advice and said it anyway, believing, truly believing in this moment that Ace was sincere.

The morning ebbed around them, the nearby song of Willow Creek a serenade.

Ace cupped her face with his strong rancher’s fingers. “Maybe we could start again.”

Marisa tilted her head, relishing his touch. She felt cherished, loved. “Like this morning’s sunrise. A clean slate.”

“But wiser and better. I care about you, Marisa. Never stopped.”

Then as if he couldn’t wait another second, he kissed her. The kiss was restrained and tender, almost reverent as though her feelings, more than his desire, mattered most.

Marisa slid both arms around him and pulled him as close as her next breath. She loved this man. With all his faults and mistakes, he was a good person. He’d tried his best to prove it, and she wanted to believe in him.

Maybe it was time to let go of the past and reach for the future.

For a moment, she shut off the tumble of thoughts and doubts and sorrow and enjoyed the man, taking pleasure in his pleasure, loving that she was here with him.

When the kiss ended, too soon, it seemed to her, Ace continued to bracket her cheeks with both hands, his slight smile tender.

Her mouth curved in response. An aching sweetness filled her, filled the humming air around them. “Strange place to kiss a girl.”

“I think my parents would approve.” He placed another kiss on the corner of her mouth and let her go. She was sorry about that. “As much as I’d like to stay here all day, we both have work.”

In mutual agreement, arms around each other’s waists, they walked the distance back to the truck. She had no idea how long they’d been here. She wasn’t wearing her watch, and she’d left her phone behind.

She stopped dead still. Adrenaline surged through her veins. Her contented haze evaporated.

“What’s wrong?”

“I left my phone. Chance can’t call me. What if—?”

Ace’s long fingers squeezed her side, gentle and reassuring. “Stop worrying. I have my phone. If he needs something, he’ll call, or Nate will.” He tapped his forehead against hers. “He’s fine. Are you?”

She gave a nervous little laugh. “I’m not used to anyone else watching out for him.”

“He’s a man, Marisa. You’ve got to turn him loose and let him discover how far he can go.”

“I know. I know. But it’s hard.”

They walked on, quiet and contemplative until they reached the truck. Ace opened the passenger door. “You’re still worried.”

She bit her lip. “I don’t want to be.”

Ace’s big hands bracketed her waist and lifted her into the truck seat. The courtesy wasn’t necessary, but she didn’t complain. He was a man. Men needed to do things for the people they cared about.

And he cared about her. She believed that now.

As he shut the door with a sharp snick and came around the truck, she realized what she’d been thinking. If Ace needed to do certain things because he was a man, didn’t Chance need that, too?

Ace climbed into the driver’s seat, shut the door and cranked the engine.

“I’ve always thought of Chance as a boy.” She angled toward him. “My baby brother.”

One arm slung across the back of the seat, Ace backed up and turned the truck toward the trail. As his body shifted back to the steering wheel, he looked at her. “He wants you to let him be a man, but he doesn’t want to upset you.”

“Did he tell you that?”

“In so many words.” One hand to the wheel, he grasped her fingers with the other. “You’ve got to let him, sweetheart. For both of you.”

“You’re right. I know you’re right.” Being afraid that the sky would fall again hadn’t made things any better. Nor would it keep bad things from happening.

Knowing this did not make letting go any easier.

They rode along in silence. Ace stared out the windshield, and Marisa stared at him. He was so handsome. But more than looks, he was substance. Another new revelation. Ace Caldwell was a solid, stable guy.

He pointed to where a doe, grazing with her fawn, lifted her head and watched them rumble past.

Contentment like she’d not known in ages, maybe ever, filtered through Marisa.

“Since you’re thinking about Chance,” Ace flashed her a glance. “I need to talk to you about something.”

She hadn’t been. She’d been thinking about him, about how good it felt to let herself be in love. “Okay. What is it?”

“He wants to do some things, and he’s concerned about your reaction.”

A frisson of tension tightened her shoulders. “What kind of things?”

Ace glanced at her and then back to the roadway. “He wants to ride again.”

“Horses?” The idea shot terror from her head to her feet.

Ace’s mouth tipped in sarcasm. “No. He wants to ride stick ponies.”

“I could probably go for that.”

“We have some dog-gentle horses that would be perfect, Marisa. Did you know there’s a paraplegic girl who competes in barrel races?”

“Really?”

“Look her up. Her name is Amberley. She was in a wreck, too, but she’s never let that stop her. She posts YouTube videos called Wheelchair Wednesday. Chance has been watching them, and he gets all revved up watching what she’s accomplished. I think we can rig up the seatbelt and leg straps the same way she does.”

“You’re already thought this through, haven’t you? Both of you?”

“He’s thrilled about the possibility. Think about it, Marisa. On a horse, he’ll have legs again.”

She pressed her lips together, aching for her brother. He’d have legs again. “But he could fall or the horse could stumble.”

“All true. But he could also feel free and independent again. He needs this, Marisa. He’s got big dreams.”

“Not rodeo. He cannot ever think about that.”

Ace chuckled. “He thinks if he can ride again, he can do other sports, and then he can coach again. He wants to relearn to drive too.”

“That’s not possible.”

“Sure it is. There’s a guy in Calypso in a chair, and he drives anywhere he wants to go. Alone. The car has hand controls. With some additional upper body strength for lifting the chair in and out of the car, Chance could do it, too.”

“It sounds crazy and dangerous to me. I don’t know how any of this could be possible. He’s paralyzed, Ace. If he falls or gets in a bind, he can’t get himself out.”

“Let him try, Marisa. Give him your blessing. It’s all he wants.” He squeezed her hand. “He loves you, you know.”

She glanced at her handsome cowboy, suddenly suspicious. “Was this a set up? Taking me to your sanctuary, the sweetness, the tender words?” The love she’d felt from and for him.

His face fell. “Seriously? You think that?”

Did she? She pondered less than a second. “No. I don’t.”

That was the crux of the matter. She’d always believed him, even when she shouldn’t have. And she wanted to believe him now. She only hoped he wouldn’t let her down again.

Chance started riding lessons that very evening.

Ace was proud of him. Proud of Marisa too. She’d spoken to her brother after their trip to the Sanctuary and offered her blessing. It had been a cautious offering, fraught with warnings to start slow and build up to actually getting on a horse. Ace had seen her anxiety, but she’d done it. For Chance. Maybe for Ace. Anyway, he liked to think that.

Their time at the Sanctuary stayed with him all day. He was in love with her, and she was willing to give him a second chance. He loved her more deeply because of that. He deserved nothing, but oh, he was thankful.

“Hey, are we gonna do this, or are you going to daydream?” Chance’s voice broke through his reverie.

“This daydream I’m having is mighty tempting.”

“About my sister?”

“Maybe. Wise guy.” Ace lifted the saddle from the stall railing and set it on a hay bale.

Chance grinned and rolled closer. “Not much of a horse.”

“But it’s a start. The way I figure it, you can use the stall rungs to pull yourself up and on. Once you’re settled, we’ll try the bungee straps. This way, you can build up the muscles necessary for the real deal.”

“You saying I’m a wimp?”

“Well…”

They both laughed. The once fit and buff Chance was regaining muscle and strength, but he had a ways to go.

They were in the horse barn with an inside arena, something they didn’t require today. For now, one of the stalls would do, and the walls both confined them to a safer area and offered slatted railing so Chance could get a handhold. Ace had swept the concrete floor clean to accommodate the wheelchair. He’d also secured the saddle to prevent tipping, running enough wires through the hay to fence a mile section. He couldn’t afford to get Chance hurt this early in the game. Or any other time for that matter.

He gestured toward the saddle. “Let’s do this.”

It took some maneuvering and a few trial runs before they figured the best and easiest way to get Chance onto the saddle, but eventually, they succeeded.

Chance’s whoop of accomplishment was worth every effort. He sat for a while to find his balance, but his legs were too long and dragged the floor. “This feels unnatural. I want to get on a horse.”

“Now?” The relative safety of the low hay bale was the whole point.

“This was too easy. Look at my legs.”

The man had a point. Chance’s legs were bent backward at an awkward angle. Finding saddle-worthy balance was nearly impossible. Maybe this wasn’t such a grand idea after all.

“We don’t want to move too fast.” Marisa would kill them both. “You don’t have a seatbelt attachment yet or proper straps to secure your legs.”

“Don’t coddle me, Ace. I get enough of that from my sister. All I’m asking is to sit on a horse for a few minutes, not run in the Kentucky derby. I can hang on to the saddle horn.”

Since he put it that way…Should be safe enough. “I’ll get Dolly, and we’ll see how it goes.”

Dolly was one of the ranch’s kid ponies. She was bombproof. Nothing rattled her. Chance would be safe on the sweet mare.

He brought Dolly into the barn, and Chance spent a few minutes brushing her red coat while Ace ran his hands over the animal’s head and sides and backside. He took some extra time to introduce the docile animal to the wheelchair. With usual horse curiosity, she snuffled at it and then stood quietly as if to say, “What’s the big deal?”

Ace’s confidence grew. Dolly could handle this.

He saddled the mare and turned her aside to make room for Chance to reach the slats in the stall wall.

“Sure you’re ready?”

“Yep.” Straining the newly forming arm muscles, Chance slowly pulled himself up the stall. Ace ached to help but knew better than to do anything other than stand close and make sure his pal didn’t fall.

When he’d gained the top rail and perched there, legs dangling but hands holding firm, Chance sucked in a winded breath. “Harder than I expected.”

“But you did it. The rest should be easy.”

Having been ridden by kids, Dolly had been rail-mounted most of her life and offered no objection when Ace led her close to the stall wall.

With less effort that he’d needed to climb the railing, Chance grasped his left knee in both hands and tossed his leg over the saddle, reached for the saddle horn and pulled himself aboard.

Working quickly, Ace ran a bungee cord around each of Chance’s legs, securing him to the saddle as much as possible. The lack of special-made straps made him anxious.

“You all right up there? Balanced and set?”

“Feels good. Lead her around the stall.”

“Not a good idea.”

“Do it, Ace. I’m balanced, and we’re in the stall, not the arena.”

Ace shot him an exasperated look. “You’re a wild man, you know that?”

“Takes one to know one.”

“Not anymore. And don’t let Marisa hear you say that.” With one hand on the mare’s neck, he slowly walked her forward a couple of steps. “How’s that?”

“Great.” Chance sat up straighter, perfecting the rider’s posture, though he kept both hands on the saddle horn. “Got a question for you, Ace. Are you in love with my sister?”

Ace carefully allowed the mare a few more steps. “Nosey, aren’t you?”

“I need to know the truth. No bull. I don’t want her hurt.”

“I don’t either.”

“So, are you?”

Ace sucked in the scent of straw and horse flesh, exhaling in one big gust. “Crazy about her.”

“Cool.” Chance’s voice grew serious. “Are you going to marry her?”

“We haven’t gotten that far. Right now, I want her to trust me again.”

“She does, or we wouldn’t be out here now.” Chance leaned forward and patted the mare’s neck. At the same time, the mare rounded the stall’s corner. Chance’s body slipped sideways.

Ace dropped the reins and lunged for his friend’s helpless leg. The bungee cord stretched. Chance slid farther to the side, his top-heavy body giving in to gravity. He slammed against the stall wall.

Ace’s heart jumped from his chest to his throat. He thought it might choke him to death. If Chance got hurt, he’d wish it had. Grabbing his friend by the arms, he helped him slide to the concrete floor, and leaned them both against the wall.

His pulse rate was at least one-ninety. His breath came in short puffs. “Are you hurt?”

“Just mad.” Chance’s breath was short too, his face red. “Get me back up there.”

“Not tonight, buddy. This lesson is over until we have proper gear.” Ace tipped his head back against the wooden stall and patted his chest. “My heart can’t take it.”

Chance swiveled toward him. “Don’t tell Marisa.”

Right. Marisa. She’d be livid. Ace lifted his friend’s arm to survey the damage. “You may have bruises.”

“The worst are probably on my side. It smarts a little. She won’t see them.”

“I sure hope not.”

Ace was beginning to earn her trust again. He couldn’t bear to lose it now.

Eleven o’clock had taken a year to get here.

Marisa, still high on the morning spent with Ace, aimed her Toyota toward the Triple C. Toward home.

He would already be asleep when she arrived. So would Chance. But she liked knowing both the men she loved were nearby.

Something sweet and peaceful had settled inside her at the Sanctuary. Maybe it was the place and knowing the love that had gone into both the reserve and the chapel, but Ace had a lot to do with her new serenity.

As she drove through Clay City, she glanced at her gas gauge, saw it was in the red and pulled into the Kwik-Pic. She was still embarrassed from the last time she’d run out. She wouldn’t do that again. For once, she had the money to fill up.

Again, thanks to Ace. Without the guest house, she wasn’t sure where she’d have gone or what would’ve happened to Chance.

The convenience store was quiet. One car pulled away as she slid her debit card into the slot. Inside, the clerk watched her from the counter. Marisa lifted a hand. He responded in kind and turned away. She’d been here lots of times, and he apparently recognized her.

As she held the nozzle and waited for the tank to fill, a pink Jeep pulled up to the opposite pump. Kristin Fairchild got out, showed no interest in the gas pumps, and instead, walked toward Marisa.

Tall and beautiful and dressed in a sleek red sheath and mile-high heels, Kristin must have come from some kind of event.

“Aren’t you Marisa Foreman?”

“I’m surprised you remember me.”

“We have a mutual friend.” Kristin laughed and tossed miles of shampoo-ad hair. “Only, he’s more than a friend to me, which you probably know since you’re living in his guest house.”

Marisa watched the numbers tick-tick on the gas pump. More than a friend? What did Kristin mean?

“How do you know about my living arrangements?”

“From Ace, of course, when he explained why he’s been so busy. He told me about you and your crippled brother and about how he feels so sorry for both of you. That’s why he invited you to his place. Well, that and the awful guilt.”

Marisa tried to focus on the gas pump and pretend the other woman’s words didn’t bother her all. Would the tank ever get full?

“I don’t believe he said such a thing.”

Kristin pressed manicured fingernails to her lips and pretended regret. “Oh, my. I can see by your shocked expression, you thought he’d moved you to his ranch out of love. You’ve fallen for him. You poor thing. Honey, I am so sorry. As one woman to another, I must warn you. Ace is not the settling kind.”

Hands beginning to shake with the urge to slap a certain beautiful face, Marisa yanked the nozzle from the tank and slammed it back on the hook and jumped in the car.

She roared away, aware she hadn’t closed her gas cap and not even caring.

Nothing like meeting one of Ace’s old girlfriends to ruin a perfectly wonderful day. And to plant seeds of doubts where trust was trying to grow.