I’ve got big plans for today: I’m going to keep my temper simmering near a low boil, I’m going to avoid the princess, I’m not going to let my ranch hands pull any shit like they did yesterday with the pigs, and I will have my inbox empty by the end of the workday. This is the plan—at least, it was. My alarm clock is still due to go off in five minutes, but I’m already up on the edge of my bed in my boxer briefs, listening to Christine talk my ear off. Alfred is snoring at my feet. I think dogs sometimes like to rub it in.

“You promised you’d come to San Antonio later this week.”

I blink sleep out of my eyes and chance a glance at the clock beside my bed: 5:10 AM—too damn early for a fight.

“And I explained that it’s just not possible. Helen left last week and—”

“You’re kidding me. Jack, do you know the last time you made the effort to come here? To show me you care even the tiniest bit?”

I rest my elbows on my knees, squeeze my eyes closed, and pinch the bridge of my nose. I really could’ve used those last five minutes of sleep. “I’m sure I could come up with a good example if you hadn’t called at the crack of dawn. I haven’t even had my coffee.”

That response doesn’t go over well.

“You are the most emotionally vacant man I’ve ever met. We’ve been together two years—TWO YEARS—and I get the feeling you wouldn’t care if I broke up with you right here and now.”

Has it really been that long?

“Chrissy, c’mon—”

“No. Don’t bother.” She pauses, inhales a deep breath. When she speaks again, her voice is softer, sweet. “I’m just…I’m upset. I miss you, that’s all. We hardly see each other.”

“You know I’d be there with you if I could.”

“Would you?”

Just then, my alarm clock starts blaring loudly. BEEP BEEP BEEP. My eyes pop open and I reach over to slam my hand down to turn it off. Alfred hops up and starts wagging his tail, flaunting the energy from his extra sleep.

“Chrissy, I gotta—”

“Yeah, I know, you gotta go. Going’s what you do best.”

Her words are meant to sting, but they don’t.

“Will I see you later this week?” I ask, trying to end the phone call on a good note.

“I don’t know. I’ll think about it.”

We both know she’ll cave and make the drive out here. That’s how our relationship works. For two years, she’s lived in San Antonio and I’ve lived here. We see each other once or twice a month, when it’s convenient. It’s not nearly enough for her, but it’s all the time I have to give at the moment. With Helen gone, I’m not even sure I can swing that.

After we hang up, I get going, speeding through a shower before I tug on a worn pair of Wranglers and reach for one of my favorite Blue Stone Ranch t-shirts, except my hand comes back empty. There aren’t any shirts hanging where they should be—I guess that’s what happens when Mary isn’t here to do my laundry. I settle for a pearl snap button-down then reach for my trusty ball cap. Until I make it into town for a haircut, it’ll have to do.

Downstairs, I let Alfred out the back door. Edith is already by the coffee maker, filling up a mug.

“Hope you made it extra strong today.”

She hands it off to me with a trademark sneer.

“It’s somewhere between crude oil and jet fuel. I don’t know how you stand it.”

I take a big sip then tip the mug toward her in thanks. “It’s perfect.”

“I heard you upstairs on the phone. Little early for Christine to be callin’, isn’t it? Some of us would have appreciated sleeping in a little bit.”

“You haven’t slept past 5:00 in thirty years.”

“Not for lack of tryin’, and I’d still like the option.”

She pours some coffee into a mug for herself and cuts it with cream before proceeding to answer most of my questions with more questions.

“Christine was chewin’ my hide.”

“What’s new?”

“Maybe I should put in more of an effort with her.”

“Do you think she’s worth it?”

“I can’t remember the last time I drove out to see her. Must have been a couple months back.”

“You could ask her to move out here.”

“You think I should?”

“Do you love her?”

“I don’t know. She told me this morning we’ve been together for two years—do people usually love each other after two years?”

“It’s hard to say. Generally speaking, seeds don’t sprout in rocky soil.”

“Damn.”

She levels me with a thoughtful gaze. “I could have told you two years ago she wasn’t for you.”

I smirk. “You’re biased. You two never got along well.”

“Yeah? Well, whose fault is that? I get along with everyone.”

I quirk a brow, pointing out the obvious. “Half the town is too scared to love you. The other half is too scared not to love you.”

She chuckles and steps toward the window near the sink. “No, that’s you half the town’s scared of. I’m just standin’ next to you. Oh, look who’s ready for her first day of work.”

I follow her gaze out the window and find Meredith stepping out of the shack. Color me shocked. I didn’t figure her for an early bird, and I feel deprived—I thought I’d get the pleasure of performing a cowbell wake-up call.

She turns toward the horizon and shades her eyes with one hand, taking in the sunrise. I know exactly how beautiful it is from that angle—vivid yellow and orange. The view is made even better by the fact that there are no skyscrapers or high-rises obstructing it. After spending the night in that dreary shack, it’s probably a welcome sight. I’m surprised she stuck around.

I’m still watching her when her gaze snaps to the backyard. Her eyes widen in fear as she lets out a shriek. Her hands go up in defense. She takes a hesitant step back, then another, until her back hits the door.

Shit. Must be coyotes.

I move quickly, yanking the back door open and shouting for Edith to get the shotgun. There are coyotes and mountain lions in this part of the state, and while it’s uncommon for them to stalk too deep onto the property, it’s not unheard of.

“Don’t run!” I shout to Meredith as I step out into the backyard.

Edith isn’t far behind me with the shotgun. She hands it off and I scan the area, trying to spy any animals that don’t belong. When the coast looks clear, I check the tree line, narrowing my eyes and listening for the sound of snapping twigs or shuffling paws.

“Where are they?” I snap.

“Right there!”

I turn to where she’s pointing and spot my golden retriever standing a few yards away from her.

“You mean Alfred?”

He trots closer to her and she unleashes a barrage of Hollywood-style karate kicks and chops at the air between them. “No, no—don’t come any closer!”

Alfred doesn’t listen.

“No!” she demands. “I said NO! Sit!”

Alfred sits.

Edith laughs, yanks the shotgun out of my hold, and tromps back inside, mumbling something under her breath.

“It’s just a dog,” I point out.

“Feral? Untamed?!”

Alfred hops back up and starts to stroll toward her again, tail wagging. He gets right to her and starts lapping at her legs in between flails.

“Nope—golden, as in retriever.”

She squats and her hands cover her face. “Please don’t eat me!”

I try to make myself feel bad for how amusing I find this situation. I really ought to do something, but Alfred is the most harmless animal in the world. He’s beloved by everyone…except, I guess, Meredith.

“Are you afraid of dogs?”

“No!” she declares emphatically while trying to wiggle away from Alfred’s licks.

“You sure seem like you are.”

“I’m afraid of strange shapeless forms charging toward me in the dark!” she explains before turning and pointing her finger at Alfred. “And you—can’t you take a hint?! I do not consent to this!”

I emit a short, high whistle and Alfred jerks to attention then trots toward me. Meredith coolly drops her hands and presses her hair back into its high ponytail. She’s trying to play it off like she didn’t just beg for her life, but when our gazes lock, I can tell she’s pissed.

“Did you order that attack? Is this more of your hazing?”

I try not to find her amusing. “I think you’ve spent too much time in that shack. Alfred was just happy to see you.”

“Well, he just—I just—wasn’t quite ready for that level of intimacy, but I forgive you, Alfred.”

I glance down to where Alfred is sitting politely at my feet. He is the picture of docile innocence, unlike the brunette Barbie standing a few yards away from me.

“My life just flashed before my eyes.”

“I bet that was a riveting little highlight reel.”

At that, her eyes narrow into two slits. It seems I’ve really pissed her off this time. Her arms cross over her chest. Her chin juts out. Her brows knit together. I should be shaking in my boots, but it feels like I’m staring at an angry kitten.

She takes a few steps closer to me to me and props her hands on her hips. That’s when I finally notice what she’s wearing: the same tight jeans as yesterday, but she’s traded in the white blouse for a t-shirt. It’s tied off in a knot at her midriff and the sleeves are rolled up as best as possible. It’s way too big for her, and well, it should be considering it’s mine.

“Where the hell did you get that shirt?”

Her eyes go wide and her cheeks flush, but she tries to cover the embarrassed reaction as best as possible.

“Edith gave it to me,” she says confidently.

“She had no right to do that.”

“It was in a bag of clothes meant for charity.”

Well that explains why all my t-shirts were missing this morning.

“Don’t you have enough fancy designer clothes to wear?”

“Not while I clean your toilet.”

It makes no sense. Her tone isn’t any softer than it was yesterday. I wonder if this is how she always acts—proud and pissy, even when she clearly has no right or reason to back it up. She’s the one who slept in a spider-infested shack, and yet she’s still walking around like she’s the Queen of England.

“I want my clothes back.”

She grits her teeth and reaches for the t-shirt as if to pull it over her head right here and now.

“You really want me to take the shirt off my back?”

I’m quiet. Her hands drop and there’s a tiny smirk at the corner of her lips. She’s pleased with herself for winning this round. Little does she know that if we were alone, I would have let her strip down as far as she wanted to go, but my ranch hands are starting to arrive for work and a few of them are watching our exchange from over by the barn. I’d have to replace the whole staff, because they’d never let me hear the end of it. If I’m just patient, she’ll break, and the problem will solve itself. She won’t be here for much longer.

Although, I’m less sure of that today than I was yesterday. Helen convinced me to hire Meredith with the assumption that she wouldn’t last very long, but here we are, day two, and I’m not getting the impression that Meredith is all that eager to head back to California.

In fact, she’s up early and dressed (in my clothes), seemingly ready to get to work. I decide to test the boundaries of her resolve.

“Follow me.”