Robin felt like the wrong fly on a wall she never should’ve even seen. She couldn’t help overhearing Dwayne as he explained to his mother that yes, he and Felicity were waiting to start a family, but now Felicity was ready and she couldn’t get pregnant.

It felt like a very long time before he said, “I should go find her,” but was probably less than a minute.

Everyone sat back down to eat, but Robin’s appetite had fled with Felicity.

“It’s fine, Heather,” Levi murmured, but she didn’t stop weeping. Everyone ate, but the conversation had died.

Heather finally got up, and despite Levi’s protests, she took her plate to the kitchen sink. “I don’t really have anything to do with the ranch anyway,” she said before walking through the living room and turning right down a hall.

“Sure, she does,” Chase Carver said.

“She’s busy at the stable,” Kurt said, wiping his hands down his face. “And the orchards, right where she should be.” He gave Levi a tired smile. “Should we go, Miss May? Maybe Sotheby’s will have some of that famous chocolate cake.”

“Not likely,” she said. “I made that cake.”

“Juan Carlos makes excellent cake,” Levi said as he stood and moved to the fridge. “And it’s right here.”

The mood lightened after that, and Levi served cake and everyone went out on the deck. The evening sun was blocked by the tall trees surrounding his property, and the soft sounds of animals could be heard in the distance. Robin took a deep breath of the peach-scented air, a sense of peace cascading through her.

“It’s nice here,” Robin said to Shane, who stood at the railing of the deck, his cake already half gone.

“Levi has a lot of money,” he said.

Confusion tainted Robin’s next bite of cake. “So what?”

“So it’s easy to make things nice when you have a lot of money.” He turned away from the railing in favor of Chase and Maggie Carver, and Robin watched him go, wondering what she’d said wrong.

When it was time to go, she settled in his truck and said, “Tell me what you’re thinking.” He seemed fond of asking her to reveal what was happening in her head, and she wanted the same privilege.

“I’m thinking that I don’t want to talk about anything serious right now.” He shot her glance out of the corner of his eye. “I’m thinking maybe we should just go fix your roof and enjoy the sunset through the windows of your tiny house.”

“All right,” she said, though she knew there was something serious brewing in Shane’s mind. But she let him drive, and climb a ladder to her roof and patch the shingles that had been damaged, and enter her small space with his big shoulders and even bigger presence.

She handed him a cup of coffee and flashed him a smile. He took it, but as she went to move past him, he put his free hand on her arm. They stood side-by-side, facing different directions, and Robin waited inside the bubble of his masculine scent, her heart hammering.

“My father left my mother with a pile of debt and no way to pay it.” He spoke in a slow, controlled way, his voice barely loud enough to reach her ears. “I haven’t spoken to him in fifteen years, and I hate him for what he did to my mom.”

Robin looked up into his eyes and found them blazing with brilliant blue light. “And you think you need a lot of money before you can…what, exactly?”

“I know I like you enough to be thinkin’ about the future,” he said. “And I don’t even own a house, tiny or not.”

Robin reached down deep and plucked up her courage. “At least you knew your father. Mine didn’t want me, so he refused to marry my mother and left before I was born.”

Shane blinked, and Robin almost regretted sharing this very intimate detail with him. She’d shared some parts of her life—favorite foods and childhood activities—but nothing too serious. Nothing that would bind her to this place, and this man.

And he seemed to know that she’d just done something she normally wouldn’t have done.

“So I guess this means you kinda like me, is that it?” He turned slightly, his hand sliding along her waist.

“I guess it means I like you enough to be thinkin’ about the future too.” She liked being close to him, enjoyed the heat from his body as it stole through hers. “And I think it means we have to do a lot of talking about things to make sure we don’t mess up as badly as our parents did.”

“My father made a choice,” Shane said, a measure of anger entering his tone. “Lots of them, actually. And one of them included a new girlfriend who’s younger than I am.”

“Oh—” Robin wasn’t sure what to say.

“Austin tells me stuff,” Shane said, finally looking away. “Our father keeps in touch with all of us, but Dylan and I—we don’t respond. I don’t even read the texts.”

“Why does Austin, then?”

“He was only sixteen when my dad left. He wasn’t the one working the farm he thought he’d inherit. He wasn’t the one who had to put everything up for sale, clean out the house, or help his mother relocate.” Shane drew in a breath that trembled the slightest bit, and Robin loved that he was as vulnerable as he was strong.

“I have a lot of anger,” he whispered, his lips sweeping across her temple and landing in the middle of her forehead. “I’ve never really tried to get over it.”

Fear bolted through her at the intimate way he touched her, held her so close to his heart, shared so much of himself with her. She’d never let anyone in as far as him, not since Kevin, and she wasn’t sure she wouldn’t run from Hill Country at first light.

Shane backed up and retreated to the window above her kitchen sink. In some houses, it would’ve been a great distance, but in hers Robin could still reach him in only two steps and by reaching out her hand.

“So let’s go watch the sunset,” he said. “Something simple.” He turned and faced her before lifting his coffee to his lips.

Robin thought about kissing him, tasting the coffee and cream and sugar on his mouth, and a stronger jolt of fear hit her. “The sunset,” she managed to rasp out. “Sure, let’s do that.”

She left her coffee behind, because she knew she couldn’t handle the caffeine. Besides, being with Shane was like threading a live wire through her veins. She certainly didn’t need another stimulant.

Shane drove under the ranch sign and west, away from town for about ten minutes. The sun sank lower and lower in the sky, and when Shane pulled over it was almost twilight. He jumped in the back of the truck and spread out a blanket while she climbed up. She let him settle against the windows and then she leaned into him.

He curled one arm around her and exhaled like it had been the longest day of his life. Neither of them spoke as the sun dipped lower. She wasn’t sure what he was thinking about, but her thoughts revolved around him, and what he’d said about his family, and why she’d never seen the anger he’d spoken of.

When it was full dark, he asked, “You’re not going to leave in the morning, are you?”

“What makes you think that?”

“I know you better than you think, Robin. You run when things scare you. And I saw your face at the house.”

Deciding to be honest, Robin admitted, “The thought of leaving crossed my mind.”

His fist clenched on her shoulder for a quick moment before it released. “Why?”

“Because just like you have this anger living inside you—which I’ve never seen, by the way—I have this…this…I don’t know. This thing inside me that doesn’t want to be caged.” Robin thought about Kevin, and all he’d wanted her to give up so they could be together. “The general idea of a boyfriend scares me.”

“Yeah, it’s called a free spirit,” Shane said, and nothing more. His breathing evened, and Robin didn’t want to leave the comfort and security of his arms. So she let him sleep. She even closed her own eyes, but the worry over this developing relationship kept her awake.

By Sunday, Robin never wanted to see another horse’s hoof. Levi owned and housed almost a hundred horses, and though she’d spent the week with Shane at her side, borrowing her tools, asking her questions, Robin had never cleaned so many hooves, checked so many tendons, or shod so many horses as she had in the past five days.

So she slept late, and listened to several vehicles start up and rumble down the lane and on toward town. When everything was silent, she got dressed and picked up Misfit. “Let’s go for a walk, girl.”

She set down the little dog once she’d reached the lawn, grateful for the brilliant sun and the wide, blue sky. Grateful that she hadn’t gotten in her truck and left the ranch this morning. Grateful for an anchor to hold onto when her spirit needed to be tethered.

Rounding the corner of the house, she came face-to-face when Felicity. “Oh.” Robin backed up a step. “I’m sorry. I thought everyone had gone to church.”

Felicity tucked her dark hair and ducked her chin. “Didn’t feel like it today.”

Something huge sat between them, and Robin didn’t know how to erase it or move it. “I’m sorry about…things,” Robin said.

Felicity lifted her eyes and met Robin’s. “I’m sorry I made dinner awkward.” Tears filled her eyes. “For a while there, I didn’t think I wanted children. I’m not the most domestic of women. I prefer working with horses and shoveling stalls to laundry and cooking.” She gave half of a laugh that was mixed with a whole sob.

“And now it turns out that when I am ready, I can’t actually get pregnant.” She swiped at her tears. “Sorry, I’m just kind of a mess right now.”

Robin’s whole heart bled for Felicity, and she wrapped her in a hug and held on tight. The other woman’s shoulders shook, and Robin felt her anguish all the way down to her own toes. “It’s okay,” she whispered, the way her mom used to when Robin’s heart was breaking and she had nowhere else to go.

“It’ll all be okay.”

Felicity cried for a few more minutes, and then she backed out of Robin’s embrace. “Dwayne says we can adopt,” she said, nodding. “We’re going to look into some other options. I just need time to…I don’t know. Mourn or something.” She turned back the way she’d been coming. “But I’m not going to wait too long,” she said over her shoulder. “That’s a lesson I’ve learned, Robin. Don’t wait too long for something. It might not be there when you decide you want it.” She walked over to the vegetable garden and bent over to examine a tomato plant.

Her words rumbled through Robin’s head, moving down and infusing into her heart. She spun away from Felicity and the garden, her need to get to Shane intense and inexplicable.

“Did Dwayne go to church?” she asked.

“Yeah. He said it gives him peace.” Felicity didn’t look away from her plants. “I just…couldn’t go today.”

“I understand.” Robin stood at the edge of the garden while Misfit sniffed the dirt. “Do you know if Shane went into town this morning?”

Felicity looked at Robin. “Are you serious about him this time?” She stood and clapped her hands together.

“I—I don’t know.”

“Don’t hurt him,” Felicity said. “He’s never gotten over you, and he holds onto things for a long time. Trust me on that.”

Robin thought about Shane’s father, and how he’d abandoned Shane fifteen years ago. About the anger he said he still had about that.

“He scares me,” Robin admitted, words surging up her throat. “He’s permanent, and he’s steady, and I’m—I’m—nothing about me is permanent, and that’s the way I like it.” She drew in a big breath, desperate to make her heartbeat stop rippling in her chest.

“Maybe you do like that.” Felicity wiped her hands on her jeans. “But maybe you’d like Shane’s permanence more. And maybe you shouldn’t take too long to figure it out.” She gave Robin a meaningful look before heading for the back porch. “And I don’t know if he went to church or not. He sometimes goes, and sometimes he doesn’t.” Felicity entered the house, the crack of the door slamming closed behind her an exclamation point on the conversation.

Robin spun back to her tiny house, her indecision warring through her mind and heart. In the end, she dipped to pick up Misfit and cooed to the little dog, “I need to go find Shane, okay? I just want to talk to him.” She mounted the steps and entered the house. “Do you think he’ll be at church? Do you think I’ve waited too long already?”

She rushed into her loft and pulled a sundress off a hanger. Misfit stayed downstairs, because the Yorkie couldn’t actually climb the stairs by herself. Robin kept talking to her anyway. “Maybe he is the type of permanence I need. What do you think?” She fluffed her hair after pulling the dress on.

After grabbing a pair of heels, Robin hurried down the steps to the little dog. She crouched in front of the animal. “I sure like him, and I don’t want to mess up too badly this time.”

Misfit cocked her head, and Robin took that to mean, All right. Get on over to the church and talk to him.

And that was exactly what Robin was fixing to do.