Megan woke the next morning to whispers coming from down the hall.

She dragged herself out of bed, glancing at the clock on the way. Six-thirty.

Between checking on Kelsey and repairing Dan's stitches, she’d gotten the kids home to her little bungalow in Taylor Hills an hour later than the kids' normal bedtime.

So why were they up at the crack of dawn? She usually had to wake them up for church services.

She padded down the hall in bare feet, squinting against the early-morning light streaming in from the living room windows. It still felt like all that rodeo dust was soaked in her pores.

Sleep had been evasive. Her brain had decided to replay those frightening moments when she hadn't been able to find Brady. And then when she'd finally been able to fall asleep, she'd dreamed of Brady riding into a rodeo arena, Julianne on horseback behind him, racing around with wild war whoops.

She'd woken from the nightmare just as they'd fallen from the horses and broken their necks.

And then she'd locked herself in the tiny hall bathroom with her phone, knowing it was crazy, and looked up videos of all the varieties of riding accidents kids could have.

Ads had started popping up on the videos. For learning to ride. She'd finally clicked on one, and the narrator's voice overlay had spoken of the fact that giving the kids the right training could prevent riding accidents.

She'd gone back to bed with that thought on her mind.

Now, she shuffled down the hall. Brady's door was cracked, and she peeked inside. Both kids were huddled on the bed with a sheaf of papers between them.

"Hey, guys." She moved into the room, trying to ignore the way Brady shuffled the papers so whatever they'd been looking at was now on the bottom. Maybe they needed a rule about keeping secrets.

She crawled onto the bed with them, tickling Julianne until the little girl squirmed and giggled. She ruffled Brady's hair and lounged back against the pillows.

"You guys are up early. Want to get donuts before church?"

Julianne clapped her hands together. Brady shrugged.

And her stomach pinched again. She and Brady had had a special relationship as aunt and nephew. Now, he wouldn't even look at her, his focus still on hiding whatever was buried beneath the scratch papers on his bed.

She wasn't one to mince words or pull punches. She reached beneath the pile of papers and drew out the bottom one. "What's this?"

Brady made a grab for it, but she tugged it just out of his reach. Stared down at it.

It was a map, a crudely drawn one, from their house to what appeared to be the Triple H ranch. And an arrow going beyond.

Brady's expression was both angry and defensive.

Megan looked from him back to the map. Had the two of them been planning to run away?

"Miles told us his ranch is right around the corner from where we were last night," Julianne blurted.

Brady's jaw was locked.

Megan stared at him. "Brady?"

He didn't answer, just stared out the window where dawn was brightening the edges.

Everything she'd seen last night flew through her brain at high speed.

"Look, I know things are tough right now. You miss your mom and dad. I do, too."

Julianne leaned into her shoulder, and Megan curled her arm around the girl. "We're a team now, right?"

Julianne bobbed a nod, but Brady stared at the bedspread, tracing a pattern with his forefinger.

"I like it here in Taylor Hills. Don't you?" Megan asked. They'd all needed a change from the city. The long hours her job had required had been too much, and every time they’d driven by a familiar place, it hurt too much.

"Yeah," Julianne said softly.

"The rules suck," Brady said, chin popping up defiantly.

Well. At least she knew how he really felt.

"I know things are different with me in charge, but the rules—"

"Mom and Dad didn't have so many rules."

"I'm not Emma." She tried to get the words out evenly, but a catch in her throat betrayed her emotion. She never would be.

But maybe for this moment, right now, she shouldn't be focusing on the rules.

"Could we call a truce?" she offered. "No more running away."

Brady still stared at the bedspread, but nodded slowly.

And Megan swallowed back her fears.

"Would you like to take riding lessons?" she asked.

Julianne bounced off the bed with the force of her enthusiasm.

And Brady looked straight at Megan. She couldn't miss the hope shining from his eyes.

Sunday afternoon, Dan had one of the stock geldings tied off in the barn aisle and was picking and brushing its hooves, clearing them of dirt and small rocks, when a shadow fell over him.

He didn't have to look up to know it was Nate.

"Today's your day off. What d'you think you're doing?"

He kept his head down, concentrating on his task.

Nate waited him out. Dan knew he'd stand there all day if he had to. Stubborn cuss.

"There's always work to be done," he said evenly. "Even on a Sunday."

He didn't answer the unspoken question. When are you gonna leave the ranch? When are you gonna mess up again? He didn't ask what Nate was doing here. It was his day off, too, and Nate had proved to be a family man through and through in the months that Dan had been back on the spread.

"Finish up. We need to talk."

Nate stalked off leaving Dan bristling at his order. It was the work of a few minutes to put the old boy back in his stall, but Dan worked the latch as slowly as he could.

He couldn't avoid the coming confrontation forever. He met Nate outside the barn, the sun harsh on his shoulders, the scent of baking fields in his nostrils.

The other man stood with feet braced apart and arms crossed over his chest, a hard light in his eyes.

Dan kept his hands at his sides. Tried to appear unthreatening. He had to fight against the behaviors ingrained in him from his time in prison in order to look the other man in the face. In prison, insubordination earned you a blow from the guard's club.

But this wasn't prison and Nate wasn't his guard. Wasn't his friend, either. Only his boss.

"You wanna tell me why you hid that injury from me?" Nate asked. What else are you hiding?

"It didn’t affect my work."

Maybe he should've mentioned it, but Dan didn't want to give the foreman any reason to think he was shirking his duties.

"That's not what the doc seemed to think. She said no lifting."

"I'm fine."

Again, Dad resisted the urge to lower his gaze. He hadn’t done anything wrong. And he needed the manual labor to keep him busy. The more exhausted he was at night when he fell into bed, the less he felt the ever-present itch to gamble.

Not that he would admit it.

Nate's stare didn't waver. Finally, he said, "You're on light duty until further notice."

"No."

Dan couldn't help instinctively bracing for a blow after his near-instant refusal. He clamped his back teeth together when Nate's sharp eyes narrowed slightly. Had the other man noticed?

"It's not a request."

Dan ground his teeth. "So what'm I supposed to do? Sit around and knit a baby blanket for Kelsey?"

Nate didn't crack a smile, but Dan knew his friend… former friend… well enough to know he was gloating about something. It was the light in his eye.

"You're going to be giving riding lessons. To the good doc and her kids."

"No."

Nate didn't bother to argue about it. He turned toward the house, where his truck was parked. He called over his shoulder, "You don't like it, you can always leave."

Dan was left steaming in the sun.

Riding lessons? He was no teacher.

Seeing the doc again would cause more pain than pleasure.

He liked her.

Was Nate trying to punish him? Laughing all the way?

Nate had always known when he was sweet on a gal.

Fine. Dan would do it. He wouldn't quit. Wouldn't give his ex-friend the satisfaction.

He'd do the riding lessons. But he'd keep his distance from the pretty doc.