My fingers throbbed and my head hurt from the crying and the embarrassment and the pain—emotional and physical.

Cooper didn’t tell me he was sorry like everyone else, he didn’t offer worthless platitudes. He just stood there, his green eyes darting back and forth between mine, waiting for my answer, and I knew, whichever one I gave him, he would respect without argument.

God. I needed to get over having him around unless I kicked him out and told Max this wasn’t going to work. But, I did need the help and he looked able to handle anything I threw at him.

Freaking Max for putting me in this position, for asking for my help in the first place, knowing how difficult it was for me to say no to him.

“You can stay.” I twisted and headed for the door without looking back. My invitation wasn’t friendly or encouraging, but it was all I had left in me.

Cooper joined me right after, the door slamming shut as I settled back in my chair. I threw a blanket over my lap despite it being May and the summer heat well on its way. But, once the sun went down, it could still get chilly. Plus, it could be ninety and I could still be cold.

Something clunked on the cement stones and I looked down to see the wine bottle on the patio and Cooper lowering himself into the chair next to me.

“Good thinking,” I muttered and turned back to the fire and the sky above. It was cloudless, and millions of stars sparkled in the sky, winking at me like they held a secret just for me.

Jordan used to tease me all the time growing up about how I lived with my head in the clouds, thinking life could be nothing but roses and smiles, but it was the life I’d grown up with. Parents who loved each other and didn’t hesitate to show it, a mother who could be judgmental toward others in our small town and rarely tried to hide that as well, but despite her faults, she loved us fervently. Passionately. Almost as much as she loved her husband.

And all of them were taken from me. Even though Jordan was back, he was so busy with his resort we rarely saw each other and when we did, a distance had built since Joseph died. Granted, it was a line I drew after he continued to show up to help.

I didn’t want help. Or rather, I didn’t want to need it. I needed time to figure out how to run the ranch as efficiently as Joseph and I had together, as my parents had before us, and their parents and their parents before them. This ranch had been in our family for generations and hell if it was going to fall at my hands.

So yeah, I was stubborn as my friend Brooke said, because damn it, I needed the help.

Next to me, Cooper had gone silent, and it wasn’t that comfortable kind of silence where you could relax with another person without saying a word and still feel like you were communicating. There were items to discuss about the ranch, what he was comfortable doing, what I needed done, what a typical day was like and what he needed in order to keep his anonymity.

I didn’t have a lot of help on the ranch, but we did receive deliveries, and obviously, there were things we needed from town.

For the first night since I could remember, I had the sudden urge to run from my responsibilities and my unending to-do lists and simply be.

I sighed heavily and took a sip of my wine, a red from a local Kansas winery, and shook my head.

Next to me, I practically felt Cooper grin into his own wine at the hefty sound I made.

“What time do you usually start working in the morning?” he asked.

So much for having the night off.

Put him to work, Max had said.

I’m better when I’m busy, Cooper had said himself only a few minutes ago.

“I’m up and moving at five-thirty,” I said, finally caving to the help offered. “Usually with the animals at six. Have you ever ridden a horse?”

I didn’t look at him while we spoke, the lack of eye contact made it easier to put space between us.

“No,” he said, with a quiet laugh. “In fact, first time I’ve ever touched a horse or been so close to one was earlier today.”

Wonderful. I’d need to teach him to ride and settle a saddle and do all the basics with the horses.

“I’ll teach you tomorrow. We can go out and see the land and I’ll explain what we do.”

“Six o’clock?” He was moving off his chair, the scrape of metal on cement louder than our voices and the crackling flames.

I had to gather eggs and check on the goats. We had a couple who were going to have babies soon. “Six thirty. I have some other things to do first.”

“Without my help?” His tone was teasing, and yet it irked me. Those were chores I always did.

I turned to him, twisting my neck so I could see where he was now standing behind his chair. His face was lit up from the fire, but all I noticed was the twist of his brow as he looked back at me. “I need to get eggs from the coop first and check on some pregnant goats. Not much to help with.”

“Pregnant goats?”

“Yeah.” I couldn’t stop my smile. Paisley and Gizmo had been presents. Joseph bought them for me for our second anniversary once we took over the ranch just because I’d always wanted goats. They were a silly expense since they’d been more like pets, but eventually, we added a buck, Gus, so we could breed them. Now we sold them to members of FHA or the 4-H Club. We had over thirty, but my first two were still my favorite.

“Gizmo and Paisley are pregnant, but Paisley hasn’t been acting quite right. I just need to check on her.”

“You name your goats? Do you name your cattle?”

I pushed past the flash of pain of how Gizmo got her name. A ridiculously silly drunken night with Joseph, celebrating my present and our anniversary. We’d laid in bed talking about favorite movies and both of us had loved Gremlins, even though I’d had nightmares for weeks after Jordan had made me watch the movie with him and some of his buddies.

They still teased me about eating after midnight.

I didn’t answer his question about the goats. “We have two hundred cattle, can’t name them all, but the bulls we use for breeding are Frank, Ed, and Bill.”

He pressed his lips together like he was choking down a laugh. I couldn’t blame him. “Strong names.”

I all but rolled my eyes. “Honestly, there’s not much to help with while I do it, and I’m sure Paisley is fine. I just worry about her.”

I was worried about a goat. I doubted it was something he heard often.

His pressed lips softened along with his expression and I looked away. Compassion and understanding were hard to handle.

“Then you’ll see me at six-thirty. Goodnight, Rebecca.”

I tried to focus on the campfire as he walked away, rather than the sound of his boots on the patio, or the creak and slam of the door when he went to the kitchen and came back out. He walked behind my chair, his shadow falling over me as he passed by me without a word, and for some reason, he was at the stairs to the patio, one hand on the railing when I called his name.

He looked back at me over his shoulder. “Yes?”

I lifted my wineglass I was holding in the hand he’d bandaged. “Thank you for tonight and for your help.”

My voice sounded like I’d swallowed some of the glass shards he’d already cleaned up.

“It wasn’t a problem. Enjoy your night.”

He turned and hustled down the steps. As he passed in front of the patio, he kept his gaze on the guesthouse but lifted a hand in a waving gesture without looking at me.

I tried to ignore him. Tried not to watch him walk away and head back to his place for the summer, but every time I pulled my eyes away, I caught them drifting back to his retreating figure.

I refilled my wineglass and closed my eyes to erase that visual. Then, I did what I did best.

I made a plan. I organized. And I determined, while I had the help offered to me, I’d take as much advantage of it as I possibly could, and when Cooper left, I’d be in a better position to know how to move on.