Shay woke on Monday with the scent of cologne and chocolate in her nose. It was heavenly, and she stayed under the covers for another few minutes, reliving the splendid afternoon she’d spent with Austin Royal the day before.

They’d talked about normal things. Nothing to do with the equipment or the ranch, and it felt so dang good to have a real friendship with someone.

She reminded herself that she had friends in town. That she didn’t need to be friends with these men who’d bought her ranch out from under her. But Grape Seed Falls was far away, and it sure would be nice to have some allies out here.

So Austin happened to make her heart dance in anticipation and be the most handsome man she’d ever laid eyes on. She couldn’t help that.

The brownies had come out beautifully gooey and chocolatey, and he’d seemed really proud of himself for making them. She’d turned on the TV to a sporting event to provide some background noise while they talked.

All in all, it was one of the best afternoons she’d had since returning to the ranch almost two years ago.

She’d see Austin later, and she wondered if he’d touch her again. She thought about the gentle brush of his fingers along her collarbone as she showered and dressed. She couldn’t seem to stop thinking about the touch, which half annoyed her and half made her smile.

She had his number, but she didn’t text him. He didn’t message her either. They met up in the equipment shed after lunch, the way they usually did, except now her pulse pittered around in her chest. It always had in Austin’s presence, but she’d been able to calm it after only a few seconds.

Now, though, she couldn’t even breathe properly and her pulse remained erratic even though he worked way down on the other end from her. The hours passed, and still she felt like she needed to see a cardiologist, and quick.

When she finally decided to leave the shed and work somewhere else, he came over to her, wiping his hands on one of the blue rags they used. “Hey, so I was wondering if you’d want to go to dinner sometime.”

It wasn’t the first time he’d asked her out. The apprehension and hope on his face was so adorable, Shay wanted to jump into his arms and accept. Why didn’t she?

She reminded herself not to play her whole hand up front. She’d had a few boyfriends during her time in the military, and it was better to go slow. Be friends. Get to know each other.

“I’m coming to dinner on Thursday,” she said. “Does that count?”

“Sure, I mean, well….” Austin’s eyebrows drew down into a V, and she felt bad for him. Why couldn’t she admit she liked him? Why couldn’t she go out with him?

Because she’d seen the way her mother’s death had wrecked her father, ruined everything, and she didn’t want any part of a relationship that could cause such devastation. Her mother had passed away twelve years ago, and her father had never recovered.

He’d run the ranch into bankruptcy, bought things he didn’t need to fill the hole her mom had left in his life, and now lived in a small apartment in town, a far cry from the life he’d built at Triple Towers. More than that, the ranch had been in the family for four generations before him, and because he’d loved his wife so much, had been so devastated with the loss of her, he’d lost it all.

Shay would not give herself over to something that could destroy her and her life in a single moment. Oh, no. She would not. The decision had already been made—long ago—and though Austin really was a welcome addition to her life, she had more to lose than she had to gain.

His fingers touched hers, startling her out of her own mind. They were warm against hers, aligning and settling fully between hers. A sigh passed through her body, and when he said, “I want to go out with you. Just the two of us,” in a sure, Texas drawl, she almost melted into a human puddle right there in the equipment shed.

“I don’t know,” she whispered.

He squeezed her hand. “What aren’t you sure about?”

She didn’t want to talk about it. “It’s a long story.”

Austin released her hand and fell back a step, taking the warmth of his body and the delicious smell of his cologne with him. “I’ve got nothing but time, Shay.”

And she knew he wasn’t going to go away. She didn’t want him to. “I’m not telling it today.”

“That’s fine.” He turned around and headed back to the combine he’d been working on. “Whenever you want. You tell me when you want to go out, and I’ll clear my schedule.”

He might as well have told her he loved her, right then and there. She didn’t confirm. Couldn’t. She just left the shed, hoping the big, Texas sky would help her figure out what she really wanted when it came to Austin.

Smoke rose from the backyard of the homestead, and Shay eyed it suspiciously, the hope of a delicious Thanksgiving dinner draining from her body. When she saw the extra four trucks in the driveway, one of which was her father’s, she almost turned around and went back to her cabin.

Somehow, as if God Himself were directing her feet, she went up the steps and knocked on the front door. No one answered, but there was definite action happening behind the door, so Shay twisted the knob and entered the house where she’d grown up.

The brothers had painted all the walls the week before they’d moved in. The light blue did wonders for the age of the house, as did the new flooring they’d installed themselves. They certainly were a handy triplet, and Shay could admit she liked the light, ashy gray wood they’d put down.

A simple couch sat in the front room, with nothing else. Not even an end table. Shay supposed they didn’t spend much time entertaining guests in this area of the house where her mother had always kept a vase of fresh flowers which she grew in the backyard.

Her father had lovingly cultivated the rose bushes her mother had planted along the fence the first week of their marriage. Even Shay had spent time clipping them, admiring them, and mulching them.

But not anymore, and she wondered if the brothers had done anything to winterize the bushes. Not your problem, she told herself as she took in the situation in front of her.

Austin’s mother—obvious by the color of her eyes and the shape of her nose—stood at the kitchen counter, adding butter to a bowl on the stand mixer that was whipping something fierce. She glanced up when she saw Shay, but she didn’t turn off the machine.

She did smile as she came around the counter and extended her hand. “Hello, dear. You must be Austin’s Shay.”

Austin’s Shay?

Her eyebrows flew toward her hairline, but she managed to shake the older woman’s hand. She smelled like cream and sugar, and Shay’s heart squeezed into a too-small box inside her chest.

“Yes, ma’am,” she said. “You must be his mother.”

“Alex,” she said. “I’m just finishing up the mashed potatoes. Robin’s got the rolls in the oven, so they’ll be ready in about five minutes. And we’ve got stuffing right there.” She indicated a foil-covered casserole pan sitting on the stovetop.

“Looks good.” Shay glanced through the huge windows that looked out into the backyard. “And what’s goin’ on back there?” All three Royal brothers hovered around the source of the smoke, with four more ranch hands loitering nearby. Her father was obviously talking gesturing wildly with his hands.

“Oh, Shane thought he’d fry a turkey.” Alex shook her head. “He’s never done it before and it’s not going exactly as planned.”

Shay watched another plume of smoke waft from the smoker, wondering if they’d have protein at this meal or not. Robin came in from outside, her face flushed. She gave Shay a quick smile and then said, “It’s okay. We’ll be fine with what we’ve got.”

Alex clucked her tongue like she was reprimanding a wayward child. “I told him we should just roast it.”

“It looks great.” Robin checked the rolls. “Nice and brown. The oil just keeps overflowing a little. They’re trying to siphon some off. That’s what causing the smoke.”

Shay looked around, noticing the empty dining room table. “Can I help? Can I set the table? Get out salt and pepper? Butter? Something?”

“Yes.” Robin turned from the oven, a true grin on her face now. “I’ll get everything down and you can set it up.” She opened a cupboard. “Let’s see…how many of us are there?” She started ticking off people—Shane, Robin, Dylan, Hazel, Austin, Shay, Alex, Shay’s father, Oaker, Carlos, Dean, Chadwell, Dwayne, Felicity, Kurt, and May. “Oh, and their eighteen-month-old, Greta. And the new baby.”

Sixteen people.

Shay almost fled. By sheer will and a steady stream of prayer, she took the plates Robin handed to her with half a smile. Robin came over and helped her get the double leaf out of the dining room table that was clearly an heirloom.

“Where did you guys get this table?” she asked.

“It belonged to my grandmother,” Robin said. “It was the only thing I brought to the ranch that I couldn’t fit in the tiny house.” She glanced at Alex and then Shay. “I’m glad you came, Shay. Austin’s been talkin’ about you non-stop for about a week.”

Since he showed up at the anger management meeting. She still wasn’t sure why he’d come. She’d never sensed any fury in him before, though he’d revealed a few things about his father that surely caused him some frustration and annoyance.

“Oh yeah?” Shay finished with the leaf while Robin returned to the rolls as the timer shrilled through the kitchen.

Alex got out the silverware and glasses, and Shay matched them as best as she could, making each place setting unique. She added two plates of butter, two sets of salt and pepper shakers, as well as a little bowl of gravy and two jars of peach jam.

Alex and Robin lined up the food on the countertop, buffet style, and as one, all three women looked out the window. The smoke had cleared at least.

“Looks like a maybe,” Alex said.

“I’ll go check on them,” Robin said. “You want to come with me, Shay?”

Before she could answer or follow Robin, Shane lifted the turkey from the fryer, the bird beautifully golden brown. The doorbell rang, and Shay turned that way too.

“I’ll get it,” she said when Robin continued outside and Alex kept basting the rolls with butter.

Four people—two couples—and two kids waited on the front porch. Shay recognized Dwayne Carver, and got introduced to his foreman, Kurt, his wife, May, and their two kids, Greta and Phillip.

Dwayne’s wife introduced herself as Felicity as everyone herded into the house, the little girl calling for Dylan like they were old pals.

“Dinner’s on,” Shane called in a loud voice, silencing a lot of the chatter as everyone piled into the kitchen and dining room. Shay joined everyone, staying on the fringes, skirting her gaze away from Austin though he refused to look anywhere but at her.

“We’re so glad you could all join us here at the ranch,” Shane said, swallowing as his pale blue eyes turned glassy and bright. The silence that followed was emotionally charged as all of the brothers looked around at their guests.

“It’s our first holiday here,” Dylan said. “And we’re glad we have each other and all of you with us.” He looked at Austin, elbowing him when the youngest brother still stared at Shay.

“Yeah,” Austin said. “Hopefully, this is the first of a lot of Thanksgiving dinners at Triple Towers.”

“With less smoke,” Robin said, laughing. Everyone laughed, and Shay allowed herself to relax a little. The atmosphere in the homestead was familial, comfortable, wonderful. Shay wanted this feeling all the time. The happiness and joy she’d had when her mother made mashed potatoes and her father carved the turkey.

She was sure that would never exist again in this place, but here she stood, basking in it. These three men had brought it with them. Their family. Their friends and ranch hands. And Shay wanted to be part of it. That craving had never gone away, though she’d gone away from Triple Towers.

“Let’s say grace,” Alex said, and Shane asked Kurt to say the prayer. It was a beautiful prayer that further soothed Shay’s soul, and when he finished, she moved over to say hello to her father. She’d been so, so angry at him when she’d returned from her time in the Army.

He’d let the ranch fall into ruin. He’d spent every penny he had, and a whole lot he didn’t have. He’d piled the huge, five-thousand square-foot homestead with things he’d bought. Most of them were unopened, with tags and shipping receipts still in the boxes. His hoarding had caused the bathroom behind the kitchen to be unuseable, and Shay had spent the better part of a month working on the plumbing and installing a new toilet, tub-shower combo, and tile before they could list the ranch for sale.

Not that they’d ever listed it. Her dad had gone to Dwayne, something Shay had suggested. She knew Dwayne, thought maybe he’d buy the place and let her run it. She hadn’t counted on him offering the ranch to the Royal brothers.

She swallowed back the bitterness, the gratitude of this day overwhelming those negative emotions. “Hey, Daddy,” she said.

His face brightened, and he gave her a side hug. “How goes it, Shayleigh?”

“Just fine.” She glanced around the room, the others gathering plates from the table and forming a line to move down the bar and collect all the Thanksgiving wares.

“It’s good to see you,” he said, and while Shay knew he didn’t mean to imply that she was a bad daughter for not stopping by more often, that was still how she felt.

“What are you doing to stay busy?” she asked her father. She paid all his bills and had taken away all his credit and debit cards. She’d sold everything she could in an attempt to pay off his debt, and with the sale of the ranch, he’d come out clean and higher than he’d been. So she gave him a monthly allowance for groceries, in cash, and she paid everything else.

“Playing chess,” he said. “The community center hosts it every Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday.”

Shay looked at him in surprise. “That’s great, Daddy.”

“The ranch looks good.” His tone carried a note of casualness that Shay knew was false. Her father had loved this ranch. When she’d come home to find it broken down, bankrupt, and her father a shell of who she’d left a decade earlier, the only option had been to sell the place.

He’d fought her every step of the way, until finally his best friend and fellow rancher, Chase Carver, had come out and given him the same assessment she had. Her dad blamed her for the loss of Triple Towers; she blamed him.

In general, he was a big reason she went to anger management classes every Thursday.

“You look good, Shay.” He peered at her, the age that sometimes clouded his eyes clearing. “Things must be going well here.”

Shay allowed herself a glance in Austin’s direction. He was moving through the line behind his mother, chatting with her in an easy, casual way. “Yeah,” she said. “Things are going well here.”

An hour later, fully satiated with turkey, mashed potatoes, gravy, and cranberry sauce—and rolls and jam. Oh, the rolls and peach jam!—Shay leaned away from the table as the conversation continued around her.

She felt sleepy, but she didn’t want to leave this comfortable place. Austin sat four spots away from her, easy to look at, and her gaze had drifted in his direction several times during the meal.

Someone mentioned Christmas, and what the brothers would be doing, and her father said, “This ranch used to be the place to be in December.”

The conversations hushed, and Shane said, “What do you mean?”

“We used to put up hundreds, no, thousands, of lights,” he said. “On all the towers. Santa on the roof. Everything you can think of. People would come out and drive through.” He smiled as he obviously relived the happier memories in his own mind.

“Right, Shay?” He looked at her. “Dwayne?”

“I do remember that,” Dwayne said. “We could see the lights all the way down at our homestead.” He flashed a friendly grin. “Why’d you stop doing it?”

Shay pulled in a breath and watched her father. What would he say? Should she jump in?

“Oh, you know.” He chuckled, but Shay heard all the unspoken reasons. “Life got busy.”

No, her mother had died. Shay pressed her lips together, only releasing them when Austin caught her eye and lifted his brows.

“What did you do with all the lights?” Shane asked. “I don’t think we saw anything like that lying around.” He looked at Dylan, who shook his head. Austin likewise shrugged his shoulders.

But Shay knew where it all was. After all, she was the one tasked with cleaning up a decade of her father’s mess. She was the one who’d taken charge, made the decisions her dad seemed incapable of making, and had decided what to keep and what to throw away.

The lights, the decorations, the huge star they put on the tall water tower every year? Her mother had adored them. Shay had loved them. And she simply hadn’t been able to throw the decorations away, though they were in dire need of cleaning and repair. Some should probably be replaced, and a twinge of hope that the ranch could be as glorious this Christmas as it once had been was too much to keep her silent.

“I know where they are,” she said.

Every eye at the table swung toward her, and Shay hated carrying the weight of all of them. Sure, she was used to people staring at her. It seemed that a female Army mechanic was curious to some people, as was a five-foot-ten-inch woman who chose to wear four-inch heels.

“You do?” her father asked.

“I kept them,” she said. “They’re in the storage shed out by the silos.”

Shane looked like he was thinking really hard, the lines around his eyes creasing. Dylan didn’t seem to care at all, but Austin was watching her with a glint in those gorgeous eyes that spelled trouble for Shay.

And not the kind she’d gotten into with the ranch hands growing up. Not sneaking out to go horseback riding by moonlight. But the kind that would break her heart.

And when he said, “I’d like to see them,” she knew they’d be spending a lot more time together, whether she liked it or not.