“So, Laura,” Cade said as he packed hay into the slow feeders that leaned against one wall of the center aisle of the barn. Once filled, the feeders were hung in each stall to fend off boredom. The horses had to manipulate the feeder to work the hay out a bit at a time. “If you could grow things for a living, had start-up money and any resources you’d need, what would you grow?”

Laura didn’t answer. She kept measuring grain into buckets and focused her eyes on the scoop of grain, not on Cade.

“Come on, tell me.”

Laura stopped measuring and looked at Cade. “You really want to know?”

Laura was used to people not only assuming she wouldn’t amount to anything, but also telling her that. It occurred to her that since she’d arrived on the ranch, no one had treated her that way. Instead, May, Cade, and Shane all acted as though she could easily be a contributing member of the ranch. When she asked what she could help with, they’d taught her how to help with the horses and thanked her for pitching in.

“I wouldn't have asked if I didn’t want to know,” Cade said.

Laura tried to sound nonchalant.

“I’d grow seeds.”

“What? I thought you grew plants from seeds not the other way around. Well, I mean, I guess everyone knows that plants produce more seeds, but why would that be the focus instead of the plants themselves?” Cade asked.

“Because there aren’t enough people breeding and growing organic seeds that are specifically bred to thrive in an organic environment. Most seeds are bred in conventional systems of gardening, and they perform best in those systems. When you take those seeds and plant them in an organic system, they don’t do as well. It’s sort of like taking a child who speaks one language and plopping her into a classroom where another language is taught. She would probably be able to do some of the things the class is doing just by following along, but she won’t thrive,” Laura said, then flushed as she realized he was watching her intently. She hadn’t intended to say that much.

“How do you know that?” Cade asked.

Laura answered with a shrug. Cade continued to work quietly, as if he didn’t care whether she answered or not.

Laura relented. “I read a lot about organic gardening. I would have loved to grow all our own vegetables, but Patrick thought that was...beneath us. He didn’t mind my little flower hobby, but he drew the line at growing food.”

“So, that’s what you’d do if you could do anything? Breed seeds?” Cade asked with a grin.

Laura’s heart shouldn’t have skipped a beat when he grinned, but it did. She turned back to the grain buckets and tried to slow her suddenly much-too-fast breathing before she answered.

“Yeah. There’s a science to it, but it’s also creative and I’d be able to work with plants. My greenhouse was the only place I could be alone, be at peace.”

“What would you need to get started?”

Laura busied herself with measuring grain. She didn’t want to dream and fantasize about what couldn’t be. She’d accepted a long time ago that there wasn’t room for dreams in her life. She would soon have a baby to take care of. She needed a steady job, not a fantasy. And, she sure as heck didn’t need to be dealing with the other feelings Cade’s attention was raising.

“Laura, come on, humor me. It’s fun to just dream sometimes,” Cade insisted.

No, it’s not. Dreaming leads to hope and hope lets you down every time. In the end, hope hurts like hell.

“Okay. A commercial-sized greenhouse. Just one at first, but eventually you’d need a lot more than one. And space for those greenhouses,” Laura said.

“Texas has a lot of space. What else?” Cade asked. He crossed to the tack room and reached into the bin where he kept his bags of mints. He was back out in a second with carrots Laura had replaced the mints with in his hand.

“What’s this, Laura?” he asked, eyes soft.

Laura smiled back at him sheepishly. He laughed and she stomped her foot at him. “Don’t laugh. All those mints are bound to be bad for their teeth. I thought we could do carrots for a change.”

Her heart raced as she waited for his reaction.

Cade snorted and shoved the fistful of carrots in his back pocket, leaving the green tops hanging out. “All right, but if we end up with a stampede on our hands tonight, or if all the horses rebel and refuse to come in for dinner, I’ll know who to blame.”

Laura couldn’t tell if he was joking or not. “Will they really stampede?” she asked, her brow furrowed as she tried to read his face. Part of her was just relieved he hadn’t yelled at her for hiding his mints. Another part of her was proud for having taken the initiative, for taking a risk.

Cade laughed some more and shook his head. “Don’t worry. The worst they’ll do is pout. But don’t expect me to cover for you. I’m putting this change square on your shoulders when the horses ask where the mints are. I’ll point the finger straight at you, Laura. Now, really, what else would you need to breed seeds?” Cade asked, bringing the conversation back around to her future plans before she could even take a minute to enjoy the satisfaction of voicing an opinion and making a change based on it.

Laura sighed and played along. “Pots and starter plants—organic starter plants or heirloom seeds—and soil and a few tools. Not much. A way to keep records of your crosses and backcrosses.”

“A laptop.” Cade nodded as though he were making a list in his head.

“It’s just a dream, Cade. I’m not actually going to do it. I need to find a real job, a job that can keep clothes on my baby and food in our stomachs. A steady job with a reliable paycheck.”

Cade just smiled at her as he began hoisting the feeders up onto the hooks in each of the stalls. “Never hurts to have a dream, Laura,” he said.

But Laura knew better than that. It could hurt like hell if you weren’t careful.