Evening was falling as Dan checked the saddle cinch on Peanut, probably the tamest gelding on the Triple H. He'd already saddled Tad and AC, and they stood inside the corral next to the barn.

Their tails swished. Reading his nervous anticipation?

He'd showered while he'd waited, but he’d already sweated through his clean shirt in the humid afternoon air.

He waited.

Was always waiting. To get out. To be free. Really free.

Nate had kept a close watch on Dan all week. He’d been prevented from doing his part to load a bunch of steers for sale and hadn't been allowed to help with inoculating the heifers the ranch was keeping. He’d basically been sitting on his hands all week, grooming horses. There was only so much of that to be done.

The itch to gamble was worse than ever.

Or maybe the itch felt like fire because he was going to see the doctor again.

He wanted to see her. Even though he shouldn't.

Even the kids, Brady with the chip on his shoulder and the little girl, Julianne, who was as cute as a baby bunny.

He shouldn't want to see them. He knew he was only setting himself for disappointment, knew that someone like her would never get involved with someone with his past.

But none of that stopped him from watching the drive with eagle eyes.

And there they were, the Subaru throwing up a trail of dust behind it as it came up the drive.

The doctor parked halfway between the house and barn and almost before the tires had stopped spinning, both back doors popped open and the kids jumped out. The little girl let out a wild war-whoop.

He grabbed the riding helmets he'd dug out of the barn tack room and met them near the car, holding his free hand up.

The kids skidded to a stop, their boots creating small puffs of dust.

"Hi, Dan!" Julianne chirped.

Brady jerked his chin.

"Hi, guys."

Dan waited for the doctor to join them. She wore jeans that were so stiff, they looked like the could stand up by themselves. Must be brand new.

"I was going to stop by the ranch house, but I didn't see any trucks outside. How's Kelsey? Do you know?"

"Last I heard, she'd seen her regular doc and the baby was fine. She's still on bed rest."

He'd been immeasurably relieved when Matt had shared the news.

"You ready to do this?" he asked.

The doc's smile faded.

He might've balked when Nate had given him orders for this, but he wouldn't do the job halfway. And step one was to help allay her fears. He couldn't forget how she'd cringed at the rodeo.

"Before we introduce ourselves to the horses, let's talk."

"Good,” the doc said. “Rules."

Julianne looked at him wide-eyed.

Brady slid a glance to his aunt. The easy smile he'd arrived with faded.

"More like guidelines," Dan said. "Horses are a lot of fun. They can be your best friend. They also have their own personalities. Do you know what a personality is?"

Julianne's head tipped to the side. "Is that like how I'm happy all the time and Brady is so grumpy all the time?"

Ouch. Rough words, but Brady did have an excuse, losing both of his parents.

The doctor rested one hand on Brady's shoulder. Maybe she was thinking the same thing. "That's kind of it. It's more like the way you”—she focused on Julianne—“make quick decisions. Quick friendships. And Brady”—she turned her focus to the boy—“likes to think about things. To make sure he understands how things work before he decides."

Dan had guessed right. The kids would match up well with the horses he'd chosen. The doc...? That would remain to be seen.

"The more time you spend with a horse,” Dan said, “the more you get to know them. Just like your human friends. And when you know a horse, you can tell if something unusual is going on. A horse can feel sick. Or get a rock in its shoe—just like you. If you think something's wrong with your horse, you should tell an adult immediately."

Both kids nodded gravely.

"Let's talk a minute about personal space." Dan shifted the helmets in his hand. So far the doctor hadn't counted. "Do you like it if one of your friends puts their hand in your mouth? Or pokes you in the eye?"

"No!" Julianne laughed.

"So let's not do that to the horses, okay?"

The kids nodded solemnly.

"One more important thing about space. Don't walk directly behind a horse. Any horse. It's better to give a horse a lot of space or walk in front. A horse has really powerful legs, and it can't see you when you're behind it. Believe me, you don't want to be back there if the horse decides to kick."

There was the doc's frown. He hurried on.

"Horses have special diets. Don't feed them unless you have permission. You can bring a treat from home next time. For now..." He reached into his pocket and drew out the carrots he'd sliced up earlier. "Put a few in your pockets."

He handed some to each kid, who eagerly stuffed them in their jeans’ pockets.

He extended two carrot sticks to the doc, and their fingers brushed when she took them. Her hair wisped around her face in the breeze. A sweet scent carried to him—her perfume? Or maybe shampoo. There was a smudge of ink on her jaw, and his fingers itched to wipe it away.

"I hate carrots," Julianne muttered.

Dan quickly shoved away the wave of attraction that hit him low in the belly. He couldn't get distracted. He cleared his throat. "Couple more things to discuss, then you can meet the horses."

Brady's eagerness had returned.

"Horses can get scared, just like you can. Don't run or shout or be wild maniacs when you're around them. Capice?"

There were those twin nods again.

"Do you think a horse speaks English?" he asked Julianne.

"Nu-uh."

He turned his gaze on Brady. "What about you?"

The boy considered, eyes slightly narrowed. "Maybe a few words. Like commands?"

"Yeah. Good. But the biggest way you're going to communicate with them is your body language. And your legs, once you get in the saddle."

Julianne's nose scrunched. "What's body language?"

"It's how you hold yourself, short stuff," he told her. He made a show of slouching down, shoulders hunched. "If you walk up to a horse looking like this, the horse might think you're scared or don't have very much confidence." He straightened, standing tall. "If you stand and walk like this, the horse will know you believe in yourself. You're the boss. You’re strong and confident and ready to ride."

While he'd been talking, Brady's spine had straightened incrementally. Julianne was already there, but her chin was up. The child exuded joy.

"Y'all ready to do this?"

The kids opened their mouths as if they were going to cheer, but they quickly stifled it.

"Yeah," said Brady gruffly.

"All right. Here's your headwear." He handed the black riders' helmets to Brady and Julianne and then quickly plopped the third one in the doctor's hands.

Her eyes widened instantly. He saw the word no form on her lips. He took the helmet back, spun it in his hands, and placed it gently on her head.

"Yeah! Aunt Megan's going to ride!" Julianne did a little jig at his side.

He reached for the buckle that went beneath her chin. His fingers brushed the softness of her skin, and he froze.

Megan's hands came up, but his tangled fingers blocked her, preventing her from pulling the helmet off.

He got caught in her eyes. Bright and intelligent and scared.

He cleared his throat, trying to break free of her tractor beam but not quite able to do it. He kept his voice low. "You don't want them to be afraid, do you?"

He could feel the kids watching them, but he still couldn't look away. Waiting to see what their aunt would do. Chicken out? Or accept his dare?

The cowboy was playing dirty.

There was no way she was getting on a horse. But she couldn't say no to a dare.

And he'd dared her good.

"Fine," she whispered through trembling lips.

He smiled, though it wasn’t smug. In fact, it seemed almost as if he were... proud of her. He tapped beneath her chin with one finger.

One of the horses blew, and it seemed to startle him out of the moment. His eyes were shadowed as he backed away.

Megan buckled the helmet as she followed the trio to the corral and the three horses that waited there. When they'd driven up, she'd stupidly thought that he meant to ride with the kids.

Not her.

She'd wanted to call the whole thing off the entire drive out, but every time she'd glanced in the rearview mirror, she'd seen Brady’s face. She hadn’t seen this level of happiness since before Emma's death. Ever since she’d told them about the riding lessons, he'd been steadier at home. Maybe this was what they needed.

Even though she had serious reservations, she couldn't take this away from him. Surely the cowboy wouldn't put her kids in danger.

She'd been reassured when he'd handed out the helmets. Until he dropped one in her hand.

The corral had two rails and the cowboy ducked through the open middle, motioning for the kids to follow.

Megan hung back.

"Coming, doc?" Dan asked.

She sighed and slipped between the rails.

Up close, the horses were even bigger than she'd expected. They all had reins draped over the corral railing. Were they even tied off?

"This is Tad," Dan said to Brady. He rubbed the neck of a huge blond horse with a dark mane and socks. "He's a buckskin."

He was huge, almost twice Brady's height.

Megan wanted to call her nephew back. The words stuck in her throat as Brady held out one hand. The horse didn't move at first. Dan whispered something to Brady that she couldn't hear. The boy was as still as a statue.

Several moments passed. And then the horse took a cautious sniff of Brady's hand. She watched as Dan helped Brady feed the animal a carrot, gave him some additional instructions, and then took Julianne's hand in his big one to introduce her to Peanut.

"She's so pretty," Julianne whispered. The horse was white with big brown splotches. Or maybe brown with big white splotches.

"She's what's called a pinto."

Julianne wrinkled her nose. "Like the bean?"

"Just like that, kid."

The mare snuffled Julianne's T-shirt.

Before she was ready, the cowboy strode toward Megan.

His eyes took her measure, and apparently she wasn't telegraphing her terror adequately, because he took her elbow and walked her over to the huge brown beast that remained without a rider.

"Relax," he whispered. "What's the worst that could happen? You fall off. And get back on."

"Lots of things could happen if I fall off," she said. Were her teeth chattering? She eyed the horse standing still at the railing.

"A twisted ankle. Sprained ankle. Broken ankle. Sprained wrist. Broken wrist. Concussion. Spinal cord injury."

She tore her eyes from the horse and looked at the cowboy.

The corners of his mouth were twitching. She should probably be thankful he wasn't outright laughing. "That's quite a list."

"I wasn't done. I worked in an ER before we moved here."

Something shifted in his expression. She didn't know whether it was a good or bad reaction. He smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes—not like before.

"You got that carrot slice? Come and meet AC."

"Girl or boy?"

"He's a gelding."

He nudged her forward when her feet didn’t want to move. Stayed at her side as they approached the horse's head. She could almost feel his big, warm body walking just behind her.

Dan took her hand in his, his warmth shocking against her ice-cold extremities. He put the carrot in her palm and raised it toward the horse.

"What if he bites me?" she whispered.

"He won't."

He was right. The horse lipped up the carrot with the gentlest whuffle she'd ever experienced.

Slowly, almost like they were dancing, Dan moved her hand to the horse's cheek. His palm covered her hand, pressing it into the horse's coat.

Her heart rushed in her ears.

It was maybe the most intimate experience she'd ever had. Dan was good at leading.

She couldn't resist turning her head, meeting his eyes.

He seemed to realize just how close he was standing because he quickly backed off.

"Ready to mount up? Doc goes first."

She wasn't ready at all, but he boosted her into the saddle anyway, taking time to adjust her stirrups.

She clutched the saddle horn. Why had she ever agreed to this?

"What does AC stand for?" Her voice sounded high and far away, as if she were having an out-of-body experience.

The cowboy grinned at her right knee. "I don't think you want to know."

She swallowed hard. "Tell me."

"Same thing AC stands for at your house."

Air Conditioner.

"Because he likes to be pampered?" she murmured.

"Nope." Another one of those grins. They were lethal in their potency.

He held up the two thin leather strips, offering them to her.

She couldn't pry her hands off the saddle horn, and he seemed to realize she was at the end of her abilities. He touched her knee even as he wheeled the horse away from the corral railing.

She left behind her balance and weaved left before it caught up again.

They were just plodding along. It could barely be called a walk.

He squeezed her knee, one point of comfort. "So you worked in the ER, doc?"

She breathed in noisily. "Four years, not including my residency."

"Did you like it?"

She took her eyes off AC's ears to look at the horizon as her memories helped with the answer. "Yes. There were quiet times, but mostly it kept me on my toes."

"Lots of different kinds of cases?"

"Yes." The sun was dipping behind the horizon, casting the sky with layers or orange, red, and pink.

"Bet it was a lot different than practicing in Taylor Hills."

"In some ways. There are a lot of good things about practicing here. And it was necessary."

The sudden lump in her throat surprised her, and she cut her gaze to the cowboy, who was gazing up at her. His Stetson shadowed his eyes, and she couldn't get a good read on him.

Once again, he was putting that careful distance between them. He'd been doing it since they'd met. She still didn't know why. It didn't diminish her attraction, only added an air of mystery.

"You did good, Doc."

And she realized they'd turned a complete circle in the corral and were approaching the kids, waiting by their borrowed horses.

"Who's next?"

"You can call me Megan, you know."

Dan looked over his shoulder. The kids were on the outside of the corral, saying goodbye to their new best friends. Fast friends after only ninety minutes.

Dusk was falling.

He was hauling the last of the three saddles, plus bridle and blanket, back to the barn. He'd kind of hoped the doctor wouldn't feel as if she had to say goodbye and if he delayed long enough, she'd be gone when he exited the barn.

But she was following him. Jogging to eat up the distance between them.

Dread sat in his gut like a sinking weight.

He stopped and faced her, kept the saddle in his arms like a shield. He needed protection from her, from this attraction he felt for her. An hour and a half together, and he'd memorized the curve of her smile, the slight dimple in her right cheek. Now, fireflies twinkled behind her. They couldn't help noticing her, too.

"You keep calling me doc, but I'd like it if you called me Megan."

Her expression was so open that it made him ache to his bones. She didn't know about his incarceration. He didn't know for sure, but after about the fifth admiring glance she'd sent him tonight, he figured she couldn't.

He'd gotten too close.

"I don't think that's a good idea," he said.

She drew up short, several yards between them. "Why not?"

She didn't beat around the bush. One of the things he liked about her.

He gritted his teeth against the bile roiling in his throat. He didn't want to watch her face close down when she found out.

But like everything else since his release, he faced it head on. What else could he do?

"I'm a little surprised Rene or one of your other patients hasn't told you about me."

She looked perplexed, and he took a deep breath, one that rattled his insides. "I'm an ex-con. I spent three years in prison. For theft."

She flinched.

He hadn't thought his gut could fist any tighter.

His voice shook as he finished it. "You're better off staying as far away from me as possible."

Twilight was falling, and it was hard to read her expression. There was a beat of silence, then she spoke quietly. "If that's how you feel, why give us riding lessons at all?"

"My boss ordered me to do it." It was true, but it didn't explain the joy Dan had experienced being around the trio. He’d experienced more peace tonight than he had in years.

The itch had even disappeared for a time, though it was back now with a vengeance.

"I see." But there was something in her tone he didn't recognize. "Thank you for the lessons."

She turned and walked toward her car, calling for the kids.

He couldn't watch them leave, so he turned to take the last saddle to the barn.

He blamed the hay dust for the burn in his eyes.

Megan and those kids were special. And they'd just walked out of his life. Probably forever, now that she knew.