Shay kept the mood between her and Austin light, carefree, playful, fun, as they lit up the ranch and then left it in their rear-view mirror.

She did love the Burger Barn. The California bacon burger was to die for. And her mouth watered at the mere thought of sweet potato fries. But her stomach was not playing nice with the few sips of tea she’d swallowed at her cabin. How was she going to eat an entire basket of food?

Austin had every right to be angry with his father, if the stories he told about the man were even half true. His dad did manipulate him, tell him things that weren’t true, all of it.

But wasn’t Shay doing the same thing?

No. She physically shook her head as the word reverberated inside her head. He’d never asked her if she planned to get married. They weren’t anywhere near talking about such a serious future together.

And she certainly wasn’t manipulating him in the slightest. Her intentions for their relationship were simply…unknown. And that was okay. She didn’t need to have a twelve-step program outlined with a man before they started dating. That was what dating was.

But his words had latched onto something sharp in her mind and they wouldn’t let go. I don’t understand how a person can lie to someone they’re supposed to love.

She wasn’t in love with Austin Royal, and he didn’t love her. So they’d shared a couple of great weeks together. Several life-altering kisses. And before that, five months of general tolerance of one another, where her anger and mixed feelings had kept his advances at bay.

“So can we play that game where we tell something about ourselves the other doesn’t know?” He glanced at her. “I’ll go first, if you want.”

Shay pulled herself out of her mind, satisfied that no, she hadn’t lied to Austin, and no, she wasn’t manipulating him.

“Sure.” She smiled at him and looked back out the windshield, where the brightly colored Christmas lights people had put up on their homes, fences, and trees glowed in the distance.

“Okay, first the obvious one: I’ve never left the state of Texas.” He glanced at her and in the dim light from the dashboard, she saw a hint of trepidation in his eyes, like she would care that he wasn’t a world traveler.

“Have you?” he asked.

“Yeah, once or twice,” she said.

“Where’ve you been?”

“Oh, let’s see. Virginia. Kansas—there’s a base there that does a lot of helicopter repair. I worked there for a few years. Hawaii, and Georgia.” She’d ended her time in the Army at Fort Benning, and she did miss heading to the Gulf of Mexico for a few days of leave with her friends. She’d done a terrible job of keeping up with everyone she’d left behind, and she wondered if too much time had passed now to send emails and expect a warm reception.

“Hawaii.” Austin’s voice carried awe. “Wow.”

“When I worked there, I had to become a member of the National Guard,” she said. “It was only for a couple of months while they found someone more permanent.” She laid her head back against the seat. “I did like it though. Pretty beaches, nice and warm.”

“Which job did you like best?”

“The helicopter repair. I love things that fly.” Shay had spent a large portion of her life wishing she could sprout wings and fly wherever she wanted.

“How long did you do that?”

“Just about five years,” she said. “So almost half my time in the Army.” She’d never realized that before, but now she realized how much she’d enjoyed her time in Olathe and Gardener. She let her head drift toward him. “Where would you go if you could go anywhere?”

“Anywhere?” He came to the T-junction and turned right to go into town. Several blocks passed and he made another turn before he said, “Probably Denver or somewhere with really tall mountains. The Tetons. Where are those? Wyoming? Not a lot of big mountains in Texas.”

Shay nodded, appreciating his answer. “I think the Tetons are in Wyoming and Idaho,” she said. “We should go.” Where the last three words had come from, she didn’t know. “I mean—”

“I know what you mean,” Austin said quietly, yet the words screamed through Shay’s ears. “So which way is this barn?” He looked left and right as Main Street loomed ahead.

“Oh, it’s literally in a barn. On the old Harris property?” She looked at him with raised eyebrows, but he hadn’t grown up in Grape Seed Falls and just continued to stare down the street.

“Head over toward Levi’s boarding stable,” Shay said. “Then you’ll take Seventh and head out of town like you’re going out to the state park. It’s right on the edge of town in this great big barn.”

Austin grumbled something that sounded like, “Great. A big barn,” and got the truck moving again.

“It’s a nice place,” she assured him with a squeeze of his fingers. When they arrived, the dozens and dozens of vehicles in the parking lot backed up her claim. White and blue lights attached to every eave and edge of the barn set the Christmas mood, and when Austin pulled open the door for Shay, the sound of Jingle Bells filled the air.

It was warmer inside than out, and Shay breathed in the scent of salt and pine, sugar and grease, suddenly hungrier than she’d thought. Pine wreaths hung on the walls, and the stage at one end of the space had big red bows tied to the front every few feet. Candles burned on the tables, and more white lights draped in elegant arcs in the rafters. The whole place felt magical and anything but like a barn.

“See?” She tucked herself into his side as there were easily four other couples waiting for a table. “This place is great.”

“Yeah, I see.” His eyes bounced from item to item, place to place, person to person before he stepped forward and greeted the hostess.

“Oh, hey, Austin.” The woman smiled at him and flicked her gaze to Shay. “Two tonight?”

“Yes, please.” Austin couldn’t seem to find his voice, but he accepted the buzzer that would go off when there was a table ready, and they squeezed onto the end of a bench that was only big enough for one person.

“Do you want to look at a menu?” Shay looked at him, glad when he grinned and nodded. She got up to retrieve two paper menus from the hostess station, and when she returned, Austin had taken up all the space.

His eyes sparkled like stars on a deep black night, and he patted his knees. Shay settled herself in his lap and handed him a menu. She didn’t want to make a big deal out of this seating arrangement, but it felt intimate and like they’d moved to a new level.

“California bacon burger,” he read. “A quarter pound of Texas beef from local sources, Swiss cheese, bacon, tomato, lettuce, crispy onion rings, and avocado, with our special sauce.” He lowered the paper. “What’s the special sauce?”

“It’s this mixture of ketchup, mayo, and pickles. It’s divine. I could swim in it.” Shay scanned the menu she already had memorized. “And the fried pickles come with this spicy aioli and it’s also awesome.”

“Oh, boy.”

“What? You don’t like pickles?”

“I love pickles.” His hand landed on her waist, and a shot of lightning moved up her spine. She twisted and looked at the beautiful lines of Austin’s face, finally settling her gaze on his. Another shock passed through her when she saw the teeming emotions in his eyes and felt them in her own soul.

The holiday music faded into silence. She could only smell his cologne, and it made her fantasies run wild. She’d been able to keep a tight hold on them for months, but now that she’d kissed him, it was all she seemed to think about.

She maybe moved half an inch. Maybe she didn’t. Everything around her felt suspended in liquid, and Austin’s lips parted.

The buzzer vibrated, breaking the moment between them. Austin startled, and Shay practically jumped off his lap. She slid her menu back into the shelf where she’d gotten it and followed the hostess without checking to see if Austin was following. Heat filled her face and she wasn’t even sure why. Women kissed their boyfriends all the time.

But you’re not most women, Shay told herself as she slid in one side of the booth and took the bigger, in-color menu from the hostess. Austin did the same, and Shay leaned her elbows on the table and leaned into them. “So I feel like you said you’d tell me something about yourself, and then I did all the talking.”

She cocked her right eyebrow at him, enjoying the way his cheeks turned a darker shade of red. “You are quite the sneak, Mister Royal,” she said.

“Mister Royal? Ouch.” He chuckled, and she joined in, and together they laughed, a blend of sounds that had Shay wondering what else they could unite so seamlessly.

“Dad?” Shay knocked on the door again and pushed it open this time. She hadn’t been to visit her father much since Thanksgiving, but it had been less than a week. Still, she tried to get over to his new apartment several times a week to make sure he was eating more than canned soup and that his laundry got done.

Honestly, he’d survived for ten years on his own, but the state he’d fallen into was not one Shay wanted to see him return to. Since she’d been home, his cholesterol had dropped back to a normal range for a man in his late sixties, and his blood pressure had gone down twenty points.

“Vegetables!” she remembered yelling at him one day after they’d returned from the doctor. Her father had asked her what in the world he was supposed to eat if he couldn’t have his beloved chicken noodle soup.

“Dad?” she called again, noting the stacks of magazines on the coffee table in the front room. How there were still this many print magazines still in circulation, she didn’t know. Shay normally only allowed him to get a stack of four or five, citing that one person didn’t need five magazines on-hand, not when the place came with cable.

He still didn’t answer, and she noticed that he hadn’t kept up with his cleaning either. Three pairs of slippers in varying shades of brown sat at the end of the couch, and alarm coursed through her. Was he ill? Why had she let almost two weeks go by without checking in with him?

A quick glance in the kitchen showed dirty dishes piled in the sink and beside it. So someone was here, eating. She turned away from the chores she’d complete before she left and headed down the short hall to the single bedroom at the end of it.

“Dad?” She paused on the threshold of the room, trying to see through the dim light to the bed. She’d come after her work on the ranch, after a quick spaghetti dinner with Austin at the homestead that could’ve used a lot of salt. But she’d eaten it and thanked Robin. Then she’d kissed Austin on the cheek and made the drive into town to see her father.

A moan came from the bed, and Shay fumbled frantically to flip on the light. “Dad.” He winced against the bright light but didn’t really open his eyes. His head tossed from left to right as Shay rushed to his side. “What’s wrong?”

She put the back of her hand to his forehead and found him on the feverish side of hot. “Have you had any medications, Dad?” She scanned the bedside table and only found ibuprofen. Thankfully. He’d hoarded prescription pills he hadn’t finished, and thrown quite a fit when she’d insisted they throw them out.

“Sit up,” she said, pulling him into an upright position. “Come on now. Wake up.”

His eyes fluttered open, but they didn’t focus. Heat streamed from his body. Shay pulled the blankets down, frowning at her father’s flannel pajamas. Seriously, who wore flannel in Texas?

“Dad,” she said sternly, trying to hold herself together and make a proper assessment. “I need you to talk to me. It’s Shay. Wake up.”

His eyes cleared, and he blinked.

She leaned closer so he wouldn’t get distracted by anything. “I need to know what pills you’ve had.”

“Just those.” He gestured limply to the bottle of ibuprofen nearby.

“When?”

Pain twisted his features. “I don’t know. What time is it?”

“Almost six-thirty.”

“Six-thirty?” His eyes shot open. “I have fishing club tonight.”

“Not tonight.” Shay shook a few more fever reducers into her palm. “You’re taking more of these and you need to eat something and then I’ll decide if you need to go to the hospital.”

“No hospitals. I’m fine.”

“You’re burning up and I could barely wake you.” Shay started for the door. “Let me get you a drink, and I’ll be right back.” She hurried into the bathroom, which had been redone just before her father moved in due to a leak in the shower. So he had new waterproof tile that looked like wood on the floor, and a new toilet, tub, shower, and sink. She filled a glass with cold water and hunted around for a washcloth to make cool too.

She couldn’t find one, and called, “Dad, where are your washcloths?” She knew he had some; she’d bought them herself. Almost everything in the homestead had been decades old, and Shay hadn’t moved yellowed sheets, old towels, or mothball-scented comforters. All of that had gone straight in the dumpster she’d rented and she’d bought a few new linens and towels for her father’s new, simple life in this senior citizen community.

He didn’t answer—again—and Shay’s annoyance shot through the top of her skull. She returned to the bedroom to find he’d fallen asleep again, and her frustration combined with her concern to make a deadly emotional cocktail inside her.

She woke him and made him drink enough to swallow the pills. After digging through the closet in the hall, she found the two washcloths she’d purchased for him—still with the tags on them—and soaked one with cold water.

She sat gingerly on the edge of the bed, feeling very much like this man’s mother and not his daughter as she pressed the cold cloth to his forehead. He needed to eat, and if she could get his fever down, they might be able to avoid a costly trip to the emergency room. Surely he just had a cold or a slight flu bug.

“Dad?” she said, her voice tamer, her pulse calmer. “When did you get sick?”

“Yesterday,” he mumbled. “Just a sore throat. Today…worse. Today’s been worse.”

“Why didn’t you call me?”

He lifted one hand like he wanted to do something with it, but it simply fell uselessly back to the bed.

“I’m going to go make some of that chicken noodle soup you love.” Shay didn’t normally let the stuff into his apartment, but she knew he’d have a “secret stash” somewhere. She couldn’t help the smile that touched her lips. Her mother had often spoken of her father’s secret stash of candies, chips, and other treats while Shay was growing up.

Her mom had obviously found them charming, even when she found chocolate on the bed sheets or crumbs all over the countertop. Yes, Shay’s dad had an affinity for foods he wasn’t technically supposed to eat, so he’d definitely have a can or two—or a whole case—of the canned soup Shay had banned.

Sure enough, she only had to push aside three cans in the pantry to hit pay dirt. As she waited for the soup to heat, the last of her anger faded. Not only the anger she had at her father for not calling her, but the self-anger that always took much, much longer to release.

But it was gone, before the soup was even hot. Shay marveled at that, wondered what was different about this frustrating experience that hadn’t been before.

The microwave beeped, and she finished the food prep before walking down the hall to spoon-feed her father noodles and broth. Tomorrow was another anger management class. She’d be sure to talk to Shawna alone, see if she could figure out what she’d done differently this time that she hadn’t been able to do in the past. After all, if she couldn’t learn something from each experience in her life, why did she have them?

Another lesson from her mother, and Shay couldn’t remember when she’d thought of her mom quite so much. And that didn’t hurt quite as badly as it used to either….

As Shay once again marveled at this, she searched for an answer. The only thing she could come up with was…

…Austin.