Something was wrong. When he’d done his morning count of the cows and didn’t see the one with a white patch above its eye, he had a sinking feeling that was missing.

Bessie, the cow that he and his grandmother had raised together, was not with the group. Which could mean one of two things. One, she’d been attacked by a pack of wolves, which wasn’t unheard of around here. Or two, she had wandered off to give birth.

Either situation scared him.

He’d bottle-fed her from infancy up until she joined the herd. And if something ever happened to her—well, he wasn’t sure he’d ever forgive himself.

Thankfully, Christine didn’t question him. She just held on as he sped down the hills and valleys. Ten minutes into the search and Sean almost gave up. Perhaps it had been the coyotes after all.

Suddenly, a sharp tap drew his attention up. Christine leaned in and shouted, waving her hand toward his left. In the distance, Bessie was lying on the ground.

Sean’s heart surged as he sped over to where she was. Screeching to a halt, he turned off the ignition and unbuckled his helmet. He threw it to the side as he knelt down beside her. She was breathing—deep and jagged breaths, but she was alive and that was all he cared about at this moment.

His gaze roamed her body and stopped at her tail. Her sides were contracting.

“Um, Sean?” Christine’s voice startled him.

He looked up to see her standing there, staring at her rear end. Something wasn’t right.

“What?” he asked, standing and walking around to see the hind legs of a calf.

“Is she in labor?” Christine asked. Her hand went up to cover her mouth.

Sean didn’t have time to discuss this. From how limp Bessie’s head was, she’d been at this all night and that baby wasn’t coming out on its own.

“We need to help her,” he said, unbuttoning his shirt and pulling it off. Births could get messy.

“We, meaning me?” Christine stuck her thumb toward her chest.

Sean nodded. “You wanted to see what a rancher did. Here it is. It’s dirty and life threatening.” He steadied his gaze. Truth was, he was just as terrified. He didn’t want Christine to leave. He wanted her right here, next to him.

Her skin paled as she ran her gaze from Bessie over to him. “Sean”—she swallowed—“I’m not strong,” she whispered.

He shook his head. “Doesn’t matter. I’ll tell you everything you need to know.” He grabbed onto the calf’s hind legs and waited until he saw Bessie’s sides contract.

Then he pulled with all his might. Bessie mooed. She weakly brought her head up.

“Calm her,” he said, nodding toward Bessie.

Christine paced for a moment before she knelt down in front of the cow. He saw her lean over Bessie’s head. He could tell she was whispering things to the cow, but couldn’t make them out from where he sat.

After fifteen minutes of pulling along with the contractions, the calf wouldn’t budge. Bessie’s efforts were becoming weaker and weaker. As much as he hated it, he needed to perform a C-section. Bessie might not live, but the baby could. It was better than losing both.

“I need you to come over here,” he yelled, waving at Christine.

She hesitated but then stood. When she got close, he dropped the legs of the calf and motioned for her to take his place.

“I have to get my First-Aid kit in the four-wheeler. You need to stay here. When you see her contract, pull that sucker with all your strength.”

Christine’s eyes widened. “You want me to what?”

“Grab that baby’s legs and pull,” he said, tapping her shoulder and then making his way over to the four-wheeler. Any of her protests were lost on the wind as his mind raced with what he was going to have to do.

“Um, Sean?” Her voice broke through his clouded thoughts.

“Yeah?” he asked as he opened the seat and lifted out the kit. Knife. Gauze. He ticked the items off in his mind as he pulled them out and set them in a line next to each other.

“Sean!” Christine’s voice had turned frantic. He whipped around to see her covered in amniotic fluid and the calf right next to her. It was half covered in the birthing sac.

He dropped the Band-Aids in his hand and rushed over.

“Did you—”

Christine was shaking as she held up her hands that were covered in blood. “I think so,” she whispered.

Sean turned to the calf and began rubbing it with his shirt. It was limp. Its legs flopped against the ground as he tried to force life into the little guy.

“Come on,” he muttered, trying everything he could to wake it.

“Is it going to live?” Christine asked. He glanced over to see her kneeling on the ground. She had tears in her eyes as she looked over at him.

“I don’t know,” he said, turning his attention back to the baby.

Just as he was about ready to throw in the towel, the baby began to twitch its legs. Then its head began to move.

A shout of joy came from Christine. She knelt down and wiped at the baby’s eyes. “He’s alive,” she said. When she looked up at him, she was smiling through her tears.

Sean sat back on his heels and nodded. “Yeah. He’s going to be okay.”

Christine turned her attention back to the baby, a look of satisfaction written all over her face.

Twenty minutes later, Bessie and her baby were up and moving around in the grass. Just as Bessie would walk a few feet, the baby would stumble to catch up with her.

Christine turned and smiled at him. “That was pretty amazing,” she said, then moved her gaze to her hands. “I just wish it didn’t come with so many fluids.”

Sean nodded as he shrugged. “Sorry. Hazard of the trade I guess.” He squinted as he studied her. What she’d done had been pretty miraculous. She needed to know that. But he wasn’t sure how to tell her. “So what are you going to name him?” he asked.

Her eyes widened. “I get to name him?”

“It’s a Petty tradition. If you help birth the baby, you get to name it.”

She shifted her gaze to stare just behind him. “Dragon.”

He laughed. That was not what he’d been expecting. “Really?”

She smiled and nodded. “I think it’s fitting.” Then she leaned in. “Plus, none of the other calves can ever make fun of him. It’s strong.” She flexed her arms. And then her gaze fell to her skin. She dusted her hands, as if that was going to wipe off the dried-on blood.

Watching her gave him an idea. “Hey, let me take you somewhere,” he said as he straightened and made his way over to the four-wheeler.

Christine followed. “I hope it’s not the Ritz. I have a feeling they just might turn me away.”

Sean smiled over at her. “It’s not the Ritz. It’s even better.” He handed her a helmet and patted the seat behind him.

He drove the familiar path to the small lake that sat in the middle of his grandfather’s land. He stopped just outside the thick brush and turned off the four-wheeler.

He waited for her to get off and then he followed after. Christine’s eyes were wide as she pulled off her helmet.

“Did you bring me here to kill me?” she asked.

Sean laughed. “I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t thought about it once or twice.”

She shoved his shoulder.

He raised his hands. “Joking.” Then his expression turned serious. There was something about her. The way she hadn’t given up on that baby. The way she’d thrown herself into the crazy mess that birth had been. She’d proven herself to be a rancher today.

“You did good out there,” he said, reaching out to touch her shoulder, but kept his fingers inches from her skin.

Her gaze fell to his hand and then up his arm to meet his gaze.

“I did?” she asked. Her voice was quiet—unsure.

Sean nodded. He needed to keep talking before his mind won out and he stopped. She needed to know. “Parker’s an idiot. If you attack audits the way you helped Bessie, then he’s a fool for letting you go.” He threw caution to the wind and made contact with her shoulder. Just as his fingertips grazed her skin, shots of electricity raced up his arm and exploded throughout his body.

Christine’s cheeks turned pink as she met his gaze. “You’re just saying that. I really didn’t do much. I’m sure it’s like a jar’s lid, you just loosened it for me.” Then she pinched her lips together and closed her eyes. He could tell she was mentally scolding herself.

“Somehow, I never imagined someone describing birth like loosening a jar’s lid,” he said.

She shook her head as she kept her lips pinched.

“If you had let me finish, I would have told you that you’ve earned a rancher’s celebration.”

Christine opened her eyes. “Really?”

He nodded and turned her toward the foliage. “It’s through there.”

Christine started to walk and every so often turned around to glanced back at him. “Should I be nervous?”

He laughed and shook his head. “I don’t think so. Remember? Not a murderer.”

Just as he said that, the thicket opened up. The bright blue water of the lake glistened in the sunlight.

“A lake?” she asked, turning around and meeting his gaze.

“An after-birthing swim.”

“Swim?”

Sean nodded. What was she not getting about this? “Do they not swim in Washington, DC?”

Christine turned toward the water. “They swim. In like, bathing suits and such.” She waved to her body. “Of which I have none.”

Sean studied her. “It’s called living a little. Loosen up, Dragon.”

She huffed and turned to face him. “Oh, I’m plenty loose,” she said, twisting her head and rolling her shoulders.

Sean leaned in. He was enjoying this back-and-forth they had. He liked that he could push her buttons. “Oh, and if you’re loose enough, there’s a swing over there for you to try.”

Her gaze followed his motion and rested on the old tire swing he and Jane had put up when they were kids. “I’m plenty loose.”

Sean sat down on the bank, resting on one shoulder. “Prove it.”

She watched him. “You’re not coming?”

The familiar ache that could be solved by getting in the water resurfaced. He stared at the dark water and almost allowed himself to think about what it would feel like to jump into it. But then he shook his head. “Not for me.”

Christine stared at him. “Oh no. If I’m getting in, you’re getting in.”

“No. There’s no way I can get back into the water.” He moved farther away from the water’s edge. As tempting as it sounded, he couldn’t go down that path again. He’d closed himself off from anything that used to matter to him. Right now, he needed to protect himself, and that meant staying away from his past.

When his gaze met hers again, he saw understanding there. She nodded as she reached up and unbuttoned her pants. “I get it. I’ll go.” She started to shimmy out of them but then paused. “Mind turning around?”

Sean’s heart began to pound, so he turned away and studied the bush behind him. The sound of her splashing into the water caused him to turn back around. Just before she slipped under the water’s surface, he caught a glimpse of her lacy underwear. That was a mistake. He should have stayed turned around.

When she dipped under the water and resurfaced, he was relieved that her entire body was covered by the water. Her head bobbed above the surface. Her shoulders emerged every so often, showing the straps of her camisole. She smiled. “You’re really missing out.”

Sean found a large rock and sat down on it. He knew he was missing out. But right now, he wanted to stay away from any part of his past that haunted him. Plus, getting into the water with Christine didn’t seem like the right idea at all. Not with the feelings that were burning in his chest.

She was studying him when he turned his attention back to her. Her eyebrows were raised as she treaded water. Then she flipped to her back and began to back stroke to the other side of the lake. He watched as her figure grew smaller the farther she got. Then, she flipped around and made her way back.

He started to relax, enjoying the heat of the sun on his skin. He tipped his head back and breathed. It was the first time in a long time he’d stopped. Normally, he was running from place to place. Putting out fires here and there.

But at this moment, he was just himself. Sean. And that was it.

Splashing drew his attention toward the lake. Sean’s gaze raced across the lake until he saw Christine dip below the water and then flail as she came back up. When his gaze met hers, he saw the panic inside it. Then she slipped back under the water.

Before he could think, he had pulled off his jeans and shirt and dived into the water. There was no way he could let her drown. She needed him.

He sped over to her, his body slicing through the water like that was all it had been made for. When he got to the place where she’d disappeared, he dove into the water and searched. He found her floating a few feet down. He kicked his way over to her, grabbed her body, and shot to the surface.

He gasped for air as he turned her onto her back and ran his gaze over her face. Her eyes were closed and it seemed as if she wasn’t breathing.

“Christine?” he asked, grabbing her around the middle and swimming one-handed toward the shore.

“Sean?”

When he glanced behind him, he saw that her eyes were open. And she was smiling. Why was she smiling? Realization sunk in. She’d faked drowning just to get him into the water. He stopped swimming when his feet touched the ground and faced her.

“That was fake?”

She shrugged as she treaded water. “I needed to get you in somehow.” She smiled over at him with an innocent look on her face.

He reached over and wrapped his hand around her arm, pulling her toward him. The water splashed into her face. She sputtered.

He pulled her close and looked deep into her eyes. She stilled as her eyebrows rose. Enjoying the effect he seemed to have on her, he let his gaze fall to her lips and then back up again. Her breathing changed as he could feel her hesitate.

Then he pushed her back. “Not funny,” he said as he turned and started swimming toward the shore.

“Hey!” she protested.

He felt her fingers grab his arm and pull him back. He fought for a minute but let her drag him close. Which was a mistake. She pulled him so close that he was only inches from her.

“I’m sorry,” she breathed, and her expression turned serious. “I didn’t mean to worry you. I just thought that maybe, if you got into the water, you’d remember how good it felt. And perhaps”—she reached out her hand and ran her fingers across the scar on his shoulder—“it would help you move on.”

Shivers ran up his body from where her fingers touched him. She glanced up and met his gaze. It might have been his imagination, but it was almost as if she were inching closer and closer to him.

And he’d be lying if he said he didn’t want her as close to him as possible. In this moment, the only two people who existed were him and her. They were all that mattered. Not his past. Not his future. Just the two of them.

He was done with thinking, so her reached out and wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her against him. Her eyes widened as he looked down at her.

“Sean,” she whispered, her hand sliding up his shoulder to the back of his neck.

“Dragon lady.”

She shoved his shoulder, sending him away a few inches. He wrapped his other arm around her hand. Her expression turned serious, and she chewed on her lip.

He leaned forward to whisper into her ear. “I’ve never kissed a dragon before.” He pulled back to look into her eyes.

“Well, I’ve never kissed a cowboy either.”

And that was all he needed. He bent down and pressed his lips against hers.