Wyatt couldn’t get Marley out of his thoughts for more than a minute. His brain was like that. A dog with a bone. A happy dog now that she was staying in Calypso for a while. Happier yet that she’d agreed to today’s horseback ride at the Triple C. He’d had fun yesterday at the bakery and wanted to share his love of horses and the Triple C with her today. And no, he wasn’t going to question the reasons.

The fact that she’d lied to him, for what seemed to be no legitimate reason, niggled at him. He ignored it.

He was where he loved to be, doing something he loved to do with a woman who stirred his senses. And that was enough for today.

He turned his head to look at Marley. She rode at his side, a greenhorn to the saddle, but an eager one. If her frequent smiles were any indicator, she was enjoying herself. So was her son. Braden was all eyes, fascinated with every cow, horse, and cowboy.

When he’d first called to invite her, Marley had hesitated. He’d heard the reluctance in her voice and wondered why. She liked him, liked his family. She’d said so. They were both free agents in town for a limited time, so why not?

Eventually, she’d capitulated.

If not for Braden and Marley, he’d be brooding, researching, and in general, driving himself nutty. With them around, he didn’t have to think so much. At least, not about the Dallas dilemma. The mother and son were exactly the distraction he needed.

He hoped Marley felt the same. He didn’t want her fretting about the custody issues with her ex, though sooner or later, she’d have to stand her ground and fight.

They reached a fence, and Wyatt dismounted, holding his horse’s reins while he opened a wide gate into the next pasture. They were headed to Willow Creek and the narrow stand of woods that bordered the Sanctuary, a beautiful area he wanted to show her in broad daylight. At Ace’s request, Wyatt was mixing work with pleasure by checking fences for brush overgrowth.

After leading the horses through the gate, he closed it and remounted. Braden had begged to ride with him, and the little guy sat exactly as Wyatt had instructed, his small hands holding the saddle horn while Wyatt kept a secure arm around the tiny waist.

The late afternoon was overcast and chilly, but the wind was mercifully calm, a rarity in Oklahoma. Wind could make a horse skittish, although Wyatt had specifically chosen two animals with quiet dispositions. Anyone could ride Dixie, the Palomino mare he’d saddled for Marley, and he’d left the spirited Frisco in the lot, choosing Diego, a well-broke bay gelding for himself.

Wyatt maneuvered Diego next to Dixie. Above a puffy, white parka, Marley’s cheeks were rosy, her eyes smiling.

“This is fun.”

“Not sorry you came?”

“Not even a little.” Her lips curved, too pretty to ignore.

She’d never ridden, but she showed no fear, a good example for her son, who seemed as confident as if he’d been born to the horse. Like a Caldwell.

Wyatt took things easy, moving slowly, planning a short ride so they’d want to do it again.

Do it again? The thought caught him off guard. He let it go, not ready to consider what it meant. He enjoyed her company. That was enough for today.

“Dixie’s a dream horse,” he said. “She’ll take care of you.”

Marley patted the broad neck with a black-gloved hand. “I like her.”

“Not too cold?”

“No. I love the outdoors in early winter. It’s so…invigorating.”

“Me too. Wish I could do this more often.”

“Why can’t you?”

“I work inside a big building in a big city, far from the Triple C.” Being so far from the ranch and his loved ones bothered him. Coming home pressed the buttons harder.

“But you’re a soldier. I pictured you out in the field doing what warriors do.”

“Shooting the bad guys?”

She grimaced, self-conscious. “Is that a stereotype?”

“Maybe, but I’ve done a couple of tours in field artillery operations.”

“And now you don’t?”

“Not anymore. After my last deployment, the military offered retraining.” He didn’t mention the injury that had ended his foot-soldier status or the degree he’d completed in his first few years in the army.

“Retrained you for what?”

“Cyber warfare.”

“I don’t even know what that is.”

He wasn’t surprised.

“We search out enemy combatants in cyberspace, analyze and thwart threats, disrupt malicious communications.” Wyatt realized he sounded like an army manual, so he tamped it back a notch and explained a little, but not too much. There were many secrets in his line of work. “Simply stated, I’m a really good hacker for the U.S. Army.”

“A hacker? No kidding. Like the dark web and terrorist camps?”

“Among other things.” Not that he would go into any more detail. Not usually a big talker, particularly about his work, he was surprised he’d said this much.

“Cyber warfare sounds fascinating, but scary, too.”

Worry mode returned, circling his brain like vultures. Every minute he was at home enjoying himself was an opportunity for the enemy to sneak in and jeopardize the free world. He was torn between where he wanted to be and where he needed to be.

“It can be.”

“You must know a lot of things the rest of us don’t even want to know.”

She had that right. A vast number of people hated America and wanted to destroy her, but these were things Wyatt kept inside, away from those he cared about. He’d do the worrying so they didn’t have to.

She reached across the narrow space between them and touched his arm. “You look so fierce. Bad subject?”

“Sometimes.” He intentionally schooled his features. “That’s the blessing of leave. I don’t have to think about the bad guys for a while.” He didn’t have to, but he did.

She was quiet for a moment before saying, “Thank you.”

He cocked his head. “For?”

“What you do every day to protect us and keep our country free. It must take a toll, knowing what you know, seeing the evil and fighting hard against it, and all the while you have to hold it inside your head and your heart. I’m sorry, but I’m also grateful.”

A lump the size of a tank filled his throat. He cleared it away, swallowed. “Yeah, well…”

He had no sensible reply, though her remarks endeared her to him. She saw it. She got it. Without asking for details he couldn’t share, she’d recognized the weight on his shoulders. No woman he’d dated had ever done that before.

Not that this was a date. But maybe he wanted it to be.

The horses ambled along in an easy walk, lulling the humans into a state of relaxed contentment, urging conversation and confidences. Or maybe it was Marley having this effect on him.

“You know about my job,” he said. “Now, tell me about yours.”

Her head whipped toward him. “I don’t have a job.”

“But you did. What did you do?”

Marley hesitated, frowning. Wyatt’s antenna went up. He didn’t want to be suspicious, but she kept giving him reasons.

“Compared to a high-tech hacker, my job was boring.” Her fingers fiddled with Dixie’s mane, her eyes there, too. “I worked in an office.”

An office. Nothing earth-shattering about that. So why so antsy? “Want to talk about what happened?”

“Not really. It’s painful.” She bit down on her lip, attention sliding to the empty pasture. “A disagreement with my boss.”

“A disagreement? So he canned you?”

“No, I…walked out. Can we not talk about this?” She cut her gaze to Braden, then circled a hand in the air. “I’m loving this view. Was that a bluebird?”

Subject effectively closed. He didn’t blame her. Losing a job hurt the ego as well as the wallet. And maybe she didn’t want to worry the boy.

He had things he didn’t want to talk about, too.

Using his leg muscles, he let Diego know to bear left toward Willow Creek. Dixie would naturally follow.

A cottontail exploded out of the grass and raced in front of them, zig-zagging like a soldier taking fire.

Braden sucked in a delighted gasp and strained forward in the saddle. Wyatt kept a firm hold on the boy. “A bunny! Mommy, a bunny!”

“Keep your eyes peeled,” Wyatt said. “You could see other wild game.”

Braden twisted his head to one side, trying to look at Wyatt. “What kind of game? Like soccer?”

Wyatt chuckled. “In the woods, game means wild animals.”

Braden’s eyes widened. “Like a bear?”

“Oh, mercy, no.” Marley answered before Wyatt could admit the possibility. “No bears, please.”

If the boy was deflated, he didn’t let on. He sat up straight, breaking contact with Wyatt’s chest, alert and watchful. Such a cute kid, smart and well-behaved. Marley was doing a good job without the ex.

As they entered the narrow tree line bordering the creek, a red-tailed hawk circled overhead in a slow, lazy glide. Wyatt lifted a gloved hand, pointing.

Marley squinted toward the overcast sky. “Look up, Braden. See the bird?”

“Uh-huh.”

“A red-tailed hawk. He’s hunting.”

Braden tensed, shrinking back against Wyatt. “For us?”

Marley and Wyatt exchanged smiles.

“No, buddy.” Gently, Wyatt patted Braden’s belly. “He’s after field mice.”

“Oh.” The little body relaxed again. Braden sighed, either content or exhausted. Wyatt hoped it was the first. For reasons he didn’t examine, he wanted Braden and Marley to love the ride and the Triple C. Maybe then, Marley would change her mind about using the guest house. He could keep a closer eye on them at the ranch than in Dooney’s bed and breakfast.

He wasn’t surprised that he’d made himself their protector. Protection was what he did, who he was. What surprised him was the contentment flowing over him like a warm blanket.

Was it being back in the saddle on the Triple C? Or was it Marley?

Braden bobbed forward, head down, relaxed enough to be asleep.

“You getting tired?” Wyatt murmured against the boy’s ear.

“I’m okay.” The sweet reply was followed by another sigh as Braden tilted his head back against Wyatt’s chest. Eyes like hot fudge gazed up. “Your face is upside down.”

Something in Wyatt’s chest squeezed tight enough to cut off his air. The kid was a killer, like too much sugar. “Yours too.”

Braden hunched his shoulders and giggled. The squeezing thing happened again inside Wyatt.

“Good boy you have here, Miss Johnson.”

Marley seemed not to hear. She was staring into the woods ahead, so Wyatt decided to look his fill. She was pretty, definitely worthy of a long stare. High, round cheekbones like Braden’s, bird-wing eyebrows above dark-lashed eyes that swept upward at the corners, smooth skin that looked soft as a baby chick.

Hers was a face he could stare at all day and never get bored.

She turned toward him then, expression soft. “Did you say something?”

“Wondering if you’re getting tired of the saddle.”

Loose curls whisked the slick surface of her jacket. “Not a bit. I’m loving this.”

His contentment blanket snugged closer.

“The little guy might be. We’ll dismount at the creek and walk around.”

She’d be stiff and sore if he kept her in the saddle too long. And he figured Braden would love the chance to run and explore.

As they entered the tree line near the creek, the horse’s feet crunched a thick layer of dead, dry leaves. When he heard the faint trickle of water on rocks, Wyatt reined in the roan and dismounted, taking Braden to the ground with him. Marley slid down Dixie’s side, her back to Wyatt. He caught her and eased her to the ground. She turned to face him, and he had the strongest urge to pull her close. Maybe kiss her.

Too much too soon.

With a soldier’s discipline, he stepped back.

After securing the animals, they walked. Rather, the adults ambled along the creek bank while Braden ran and whooped and behaved like a four-year-old boy. Squirrels scattered, tails flicking as they scrambled up trees. The creek ran slowly this time of year, barely a trickle, though the weather wasn’t cold enough for it to freeze over.

A squirrel chattered at them from a knotted den tree.

“I don’t think he likes us,” Wyatt teased.

“He must think we’ve come to steal his acorns,” Marley said.

“Not acorns, pecans.”

“Really?”

Wyatt motioned across the creek. “A whole grove of natives grows wild down here.”

“Does anyone gather them?”

“The squirrels.”

“I mean people, silly.” She bumped him with her side, and he relished a rush of sensation. Attraction. As strong and powerful as the need to protect her.

Wyatt latched onto her hand. She didn’t pull away.

Yeah. That felt good.

“When we were kids, my brothers and I would ride down here this time of year and gather pecans. Especially when we’d done something to get into trouble and upset Connie.”

She glanced up, her nose pink and her eyes amused. “Bribery?”

Wyatt twitched an eyebrow. “We prefer the term appeasement.”

“Did it work?”

“Every time, and she usually made something amazing for us to eat.”

“Like what?”

“Pecan pralines. Fudge. Pecan pie.”

“Oh, yum. Too bad she isn’t mad at you today.”

Marley’s impish grin made her too cute to resist. Again, he was tempted to lean in and kiss her. Instead, he squeezed her hand and wished. For what, he wasn’t sure.

“I never knew Connie to resist a bag of freshly picked pecans.”

“Should we?”

He lifted their joined hands and pointed at three very busy squirrels. “A shame for the squirrels to get them all.”

“True, but how do we get across?” Marley eyed the creek. Though fairly narrow in this spot, the expanse was too wide to jump, especially with a child. Had he been alone and in his combat boots, Wyatt would have tromped right through the water.

“Country boy method. I’ll show you.” With reluctance, he released Marley’s hand and scavenged about for a suitable log. When he found a sturdy one, he plopped it across the creek, tested it with his weight, and declared it ready.

Braden whooped past the adults, swinging a stick like a sword. Marley caught him and aimed him toward the crossing log.

She put a foot on the log and then took it off, pondering, her top teeth working on her bottom lip. “I’m not sure about this.”

“I’ll go first as a test. If it holds me, it’ll hold you.” Finding two sturdy sticks to use as balance poles, he walked across the log, turned around and retraced his steps. He handed Marley the sticks. “Take these. Braden and I are right behind you.”

“What if I fall in?”

“You’ll be cold and wet, but I’ll save you.”

She fluttered a hand over heart and teased, “My hero.”

Even as a joke, he liked the way that sounded.

Though she moved much slower than he had, Marley was sure-footed and crossed without incident.

“Our turn. We got this, right, buddy?” Wyatt said to Braden.

“Yep.” Short arms reached up in the universal signal. “Will you hold me?”

Wyatt squatted, took the boy on his back like a field pack, and traversed the makeshift bridge.

When they’d all reached the other side, he lowered Braden to the ground and crouched there. “Look at this, bud.”

Native pecans were scattered along the ground, mixing with the brown leaves and twigs. Wyatt gathered a handful, offering them to the boy. Marley crouched beside them.

“What are they, Mommy?”

“Pecans.” She found a rock and whacked a nut, cracked it open and offered the meat to her son.

Braden chewed for two seconds before his face split in a wide, crunched pecan grin. “Yummy!”

With renewed energy, the little guy fell to his knees and began cramming pecans into his pockets.

Marley laughed. “We should have brought a bag.”

“We can always come back.” Wyatt suddenly realized how much he wanted that. The three of them, together, an outing in the woods. Like a family.

“Can we, Mommy? Can we? I love these ‘cans!”

Somewhere, a woodpecker pounded like a rivet gun, the sound echoing through the woods. Wyatt’s heart pounded, too, while he waited for her answer.

Marley wanted to say yes. He could tell. But she was reluctant, and he couldn’t help wondering all over again if she had more trouble in her past than she was willing to share.