Life was good. In fact, life was great. Never mind that she’d lost another sack of feed when two squatty little donkeys invaded the mysteriously opened feed room yesterday afternoon. Whitney was not about to complain. If weird things happened on her farm, she must be responsible.

Just for today, she planned to put all her worries aside and have fun. With Nate and the twins.

As she dressed her daughters in identical purple sweat pants and matching zip hoodies, Whitney hummed a perky tune. Today promised to be awesome. Even if she was getting in over her head with a certain cowboy.

Last night, Nate had shown up on her doorstep with a pumpkin so enormous he’d pretended to struggle to carry it into the house. It was his endearing way of inviting her and the twins to a pumpkin patch. They’d had a blast carving the jack-o-lantern, which now decorated her front porch with a lopsided grin and a Magic-Marker mustache.

Yes, life was looking up. God had led her here to Calypso. He had given her this incredible gift of home and property. And He’d sent a new friend in Emily and a good man to teach her all the things she needed to know about ranching. That she no longer needed Nate’s daily help was beside the point. They both knew it, but he kept right on coming over, and she went right on enjoying every moment.

She refused to let spilled feed and opened gates steal her joy. Wasn’t that what Pastor Marcus preached on last week?

Setting the girls on their feet, she lovingly swatted each bottom just as she heard the rumble of Nate’s truck pulling into the drive. Both girls squealed and headed for the door.

Nate exited the truck, and Whitney held back her own squeal. In black hat and shirt, he looked ruggedly fit and splendidly sexy.

Whitney pushed the storm door open and turned the bouncing girls loose. They made a beeline for the cowboy. He lifted them both, one in each muscular arm.

“Look what I found running loose.” He grinned at Whitney. “You guys ready?”

“Let me grab their bag and lock up. We’ll need their car seats out of the Subaru.”

“I’m on it.”

By the time she crossed the yard to his truck, Nate was buckling the last twin into her safety seat. He patted the baby’s leg and slammed the door.

“Now.” Grinning, he leaned in and kissed her. “Hi.”

A little tickle of pleasure lifted the corners of her mouth. “You’re in a happy mood.”

“The best.” He escorted her around the truck and opened the passenger side. When Whitney started to step up into the high cab, strong hands gripped her waist and lifted her easily into the seat. “It’s not every day I have three beautiful girls in my truck, a perfect day off, and good times ahead. Gotta make the most of it.”

With a wink, he kissed her on the nose and jogged around to the driver’s side. Fluttery, excited, and a little bit flustered, Whitney settled back and listened to his funny tale about Gilbert and a mad mama cow while they drove the twenty miles to the Kinsey Farm Pumpkin Patch.

The result was worth the drive. Besides the inevitable stacks and stacks of bright orange pumpkins, the patch boasted a corn maze, hayrides, pumpkin decorating, face painting, and more. A perfect family outing.

Not that Nate was family.

They’d no more than entered the wooden gates than Nate pointed to a pair of your-face-here cutouts of cartoon farmers in overalls and straw hats. “Photo-op. You take the picture. I’ll hold the girls.”

He scooped a child into each arm and somehow managed to get their tiny, giggling faces through the holes while Whitney snapped photos with the cell phone.

“Our turn,” she said.

Nate gave a mock scowl, a child now attached to each leg. “I’m a rancher, not a farmer.”

“Not today.” Laughing, Whitney gave him a little push and handed the phone to an obliging stranger.

When they emerged from behind the cutouts to reclaim the camera, the older woman returned the device to Nate.

“I love seeing a dad enjoying time with his children.” She patted Sophia’s head. “You have a beautiful family. You’re a lucky man.”

Nate didn’t flinch. In his usual polite way, he took the camera and nodded. “Yes, ma’am, I sure am. Thank you.”

The woman thought they were husband and wife. That Nate was the twins’ father. And if Whitney entertained the thought a little too long, no one knew but her.

As they walked away, she snuck a peak at Nate. He winked and reached for her hand. Almost giddy, she grinned and laced her fingers with his. Neither mentioned the woman’s error, but it lingered in the air, an unspoken temptation.

The twins, ponytails bobbing, rushed ahead to touch and explore every flower, pumpkin, and bale of hay. Occasionally, they paused to jabber at another child and squeal in sheer delight.

When she was with Nate, Whitney had the same reaction. She knew better, but when had she ever been wise in the love department?

Love. The word immobilized her. Disarmed her. She couldn’t fall in love. Love hurt too much.

But somehow, this feeling she had for Nate didn’t hurt at all. It felt really, really good.

In front of her, Nate stopped and turned around, clearly wondering why she’d frozen like a Popsicle. “You get lost?”

Whitney gave a self-conscious laugh. “This is such a great place. I was just…admiring it.” And you.

Hands on his hips, considering, he looked around at the various activities underway. “You could do something similar.”

“Really? You think so?”She latched on to the idea, trying her best to forget that pesky love word.

“Why not? It fits right in with your other plans. All you need that you don’t already have is pumpkins. You could plant and raise them yourself or buy in bulk from a local farmer.”

“That’s true, but I don’t have one of those.” She pointed at a tractor pulling a wagonload of visitors around an open field. “And I can’t afford to buy one.”

“You have something better. A pony cart. And there’s harness in the tack room and an old wagon in the barn. We can paint it a bright color, toss in a few bales of hay, and you should be good to go.”

“That’s a really good idea.” She liked how he’d said we would paint the wagon. “Not that Clive is going to be too happy pulling a cart.”

“Cantankerous Clive aside, you have plenty of other horses, donkeys too, that can be trained to do the job. It’s not that hard.”

“Says the lifetime horseman.”

Whitney lifted a climbing Olivia onto a hay bale. The toddler promptly flopped on her belly, slid back down and reached her hands up to go again. Bits of hay stuck to her sweat pants. Whitney absently dusted it off.

“But seeing how successful this pumpkin patch is, I’m game to try it. Selling my extra livestock isn’t enough income, and my goat-soap project will take some time to get off the ground, but if I can add this and a year-round petting zoo, I should be able to make a living.”

“You could host other seasonal events, too.”

Sophie reached for Nate, and he set her on the hay bales. With a shout of laughter, she slid to the ground and lifted her arms again.

“Like what?”

“I don’t know. Let’s think.” Without missing a beat, Nate reloaded the toddler. “Christmas is major. What about wagon rides with Santa and a story time?”

“Kind of a farmer’s version of The Polar Express?” She loved it!

“Invest a little in outdoor decorations, lights, etc. Serve hot cocoa and candy canes.”

Excited, Whitney threw both hands in the air. “Oh, oh, oh! Another idea. Open the barn up for an indoor petting zoo, and put antlers on the goats and red bows on the sheep. We can take pictures of the kids with the animals.”

“And load the results on your website for download as souvenirs.”

Some of her excitement fizzled. “I don’t have a website.”

“Putting one together is not that hard. I can show you. Emily too.”

The excitement returned and brought a friend.

“Oh, my goodness. Oh, my goodness. This is awesome!” Whitney clapped her hands and hopped up and down, drawing laughter from the twins, both of whom hopped and clapped in imitation and then giggled at each other.

People would come. She knew they would. Families with children, school and church groups, city folks looking for the country life.

“I get excited thinking about all the possibilities.”

“As far as I know, there’s nothing similar anywhere in Calypso County. Individual things like this, yes.” He dipped his chin toward the pumpkin patch. “But nothing like what you have in mind.”

A mix of fear and anticipation jittered in her belly. She was starting to want this badly. Wanting something too much was always a bad sign. She still had months to go to prove herself as Sally’s heir. What if she ventured out and failed and lost the ranch altogether? Failure was the only thing she’d ever been good at.

But maybe, just maybe, with God as her guide and a little imagination and lots of hard work, her miniature petting zoo and events farm would be a big success.

While she daydreamed, the twins spotted a giant inflated bouncy house where a dozen other children screamed and jumped. Running at full tilt to reach the toy, Olivia stumbled and went down. Before Whitney could react, Nate was there to set the toddler on her feet and inspect outstretched palms for scrapes. Olivia shuddered in a sniffle, threatening to cry. The cowboy murmured something, Olivia thrust out both hands, and he planted a kiss on each palm.

“You’re okay, ladybug.” He pulled Olivia against him for a quick hug. “Nate’s got you.”

Small arms encircled the man’s neck. He lifted the toddler onto one knee and dusted grass from her pant legs. She responded with a baby kiss on his cheek. Sophia, not to be left-out, squeezed into the circle of love and held out both palms—which Nate promptly kissed.

Whitney thought she would melt like chocolate on a hot s’more. Her little girls. The manly cowboy. If ever she’d experienced a family feeling, it was today with her twins and Nate.

She wondered if he felt it too because his eyes met hers over the girls’ heads. Quiet, steady. Like his personality. Whitney held on as long as she could, but the twins broke the moment. Now loved and healed, they wiggled down and continued their trek to the bouncy house.

Love. Family. Nate. This sunny October day was getting to her.

After the bounce house, the foursome got lost in the corn maze, and Whitney laughed at Nate’s silly “escape” antics until her sides hurt. When the twins tired of the dizzying game, piggy back rides solved the problem. She and Nate trotted like horses through the labyrinth, laughing, teasing.

Happy. She was happy. Whitney slid a glance toward the cowboy, thankful he’d come into her life.

After the maze, they rode in the wagon, milked a pretend cow, fed bottles to baby goats—an activity that gave Whitney more ideas for her farm—and finally let the girls each choose a tiny pumpkin to take home.

“I’m starved,” Nate announced as he started the truck engine. “Still up for the Burger Barn?”

The twins sat happily in their car seats slurping sippy cups, eyes droopy and legs kicking.

“They’ll probably fall asleep before we get there.”

“Want to go home, then?”

“No.”

He grinned over at her. “Hoping you’d say that.”

“Today was fun.”

“It’s not over yet.”

She liked the sound of that.

Calypso’s Burger Barn, which bore no resemblance whatsoever to a barn, smelled of grilled onions and sizzling meat. Whitney’s stomach growled the moment they walked in the door.

A blond woman of considerable girth and over six feet tall barreled toward them with fleshy arms outstretched. “Nate, you old dog! Where you been?”

While Whitney looked on, amused, the blonde pounded Nate’s back hard enough to loosen a lung.

He laughed and returned the hug, lifting her slightly off the floor. “Much as I love your company, Aunt Mint, a man’s got to make a living.”

Aunt Mint’s laugh was as big as her body, and that was saying plenty.

She turned her attention to Whitney. “Who is this pretty redhead you’ve found? And what’s she doing with the likes of you?”

Nate made the introductions. ”This is my neighbor, Whitney Brookes.”

Aunt Mint stuck out a beefy hand and pumped Whitney’s arm. “A real pleasure to make your acquaintance. Sally, God rest her, was a dear soul. I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you.” No point explaining the relationship, or lack thereof, she had with Sally Rogers. Sally had given her a farm. She was, indeed, a dear soul.

“Who are these darling little girls? Twins, aren’t they?” The woman asked. “Cute as pie.”

Nate dropped a wide palm on each little head. “These are Olivia and Sophia. Sophia has the pink ribbons.”

Awestruck, both girls had their dark heads tilted back as far as they could in order to stare wide-eyed at the big woman.

“Look at those big, pretty, black eyes.” The massive Mint couldn’t bend too far, certainly not as far down as the babies, but she patted the tops of their heads and shouted to a waitress. “Sam Ella, these twinkies need the baby special and a pair of high chairs.”

Sam Ella, a brunette as thin as Aunt Mint was thick, rounded up the chairs and helped settle the twins, handing them each a small plastic toy and a mini-pack of animal crackers.

Once the adults were seated with water and menus, Whitney leaned toward Nate. “Why do you call her Aunt Mint?”

“That’s her name.”

“Her name is Aunt?”

Nate’s mouth curved. “No, her name is Mint, but she’s kin to half the town and the other half owes her money, so everyone calls her Aunt Mint.”

“Which one are you?”

He laughed. “At one time I was both. We’re distant cousins of some kind. Her great-great granddaddy and mine were brothers.”

“Does that get you a burger discount?”

“Not hardly, but on good days, she has been known to toss in a few extra fries.”

“Let’s hope this is a good day.”

Nate laughed. “Hungry, are you?”

Sam Ella returned and took their order. Nate ordered extra fries, his brown eyes laughing at Whitney the whole time.

When the waitress left, Whitney leaned back in her chair and sighed, tired but content in a way she could not have imagined a few months ago.

“Good day?” Nate ripped open Olivia’s animal crackers and handed the baby an elephant cookie.

“Right now, the world feels perfect. I haven’t had this much fun in forever.” Not since long before the babies.

“We should do it again. I mean, take the girls on outings. Babies need experiences for healthy growth and development.” He shifted, looking uncomfortable. “That sounded stupid, but it’s something Connie said to convince me to see you more often. But you know Connie.”

Yes, she did. More than once, the sweet and fiery woman of the Triple C Ranch had made her intentions clear. She wanted “her boys” to settle down with good wives and make grandbabies for her to spoil. Her interest in getting Nate and Whitney together had never waned.

“Connie’s a natural born matchmaker. She can’t help herself.” Whitney spread the paper napkin on her lap.

“Do you mind too much?” Nate stretched a hand to the middle of the table and turned his palm up in silent invitation. She linked her fingers with his. Warm. Solid. Strong and earthy. His hands described the man.

“I think it’s kind of…sweet.”

“You do? So, does that mean”—he kept his voice low so nearby diners couldn’t overhear—“you’d consider being more than friendly neighbors?”

Did she dare? Would she be making another mistake?

Whitney licked suddenly dry lips and swallowed. Time to get real. Kissing wasn’t something she did casually. Not anymore. She liked this cowboy a lot. He’d been in her heart and mind for weeks. She might as well be honest about it.

Her gaze flicked up to his. She saw her uncertainty reflected in his eyes. He was scared too. Scared but willing to take the risk. For her.

The realization bolstered her courage. “I’d like that. A lot.”

Nate blew out a held breath. His thumb rubbed up and down on her index finger.“I said I wouldn’t do this again.”

Whitney batted her eyes against the sudden wave of emotion. “Me too.”

“I won’t rush you,” he promised softly. “We’ll go slow, spend more time together.”

She didn’t know how more time was possible, but she wasn’t complaining. She could never get enough of his company. Was she being stupid again? Risking not only herself but her daughters?

“No expectations, no demands.”

“Okay,” he said. “If that’s how you want it.”

She didn’t. The reckless Whitney was an all-or-nothing kind of girl. But for now, that’s how it had to be.

Their order arrived and she pulled her hand back. Conversation disappeared in the rustle of wax-paper-lined plastic baskets and the mouthwatering smells of real, homemade hamburgers and fresh-cut French fries.

Whitney cut up Sophia’s mini-burger and added a dollop of ketchup to her basket. When she turned to do the same for Olivia, Nate was already there.

Like a father taking care of his daughter.

The action, so normal for most people, wasn’t for Whitney. She and the twins had always been on their own. To have a friend, a partner, a man, show them such care soothed a bruised place inside.

No wonder she was falling in love with this Calypso cowboy.

And where was the caution in that?

That he wanted to take their relationship to the next level both elated and terrified her. Here was a man she believed she could trust, a man who cared about her daughters, a man who treated her with respect and tenderness.

A man who’d proved himself trustworthy.

If only she could trust herself.

The tornado of emotions swirled in her chest as she ate the best burger on the planet and talked to Nate about ordinary things. The pumpkin patch. The new goat kids. Her plans for the ranch and her excitement about the possibilities.

Nate told her about the Triple C’s upcoming ranch rodeo—a fundraiser for cancer research—and she offered to help Emily and Connie with the concession and pie sale, or anywhere she was needed. Volunteering for the community fundraiser made her feel good, connected, a part of something bigger than herself.

Being with Nate made her feel good, too.

Under the surface of every exchange was the hint of romance. Little touches and quick glances that ended with secret smiles. They were more than friends. Maybe they had been for a while.

When the conversation turned to family, she listened to childhood tales of three ornery brothers and an adored baby sister. He spoke of his mother and dad, and she heard the pain of their loss in his words.

“What about your family, Whitney? Shouldn’t you try to mend fences? If not for yourself, for the twins?”

She fiddled with a golden fry, dipping it in and out of ketchup without tasting.

“I’ve been gone from home since I was seventeen, Nate. I don’t even know them anymore.”

She still recalled the foolish nonsense she’d spouted to her parents. Their negativity was bringing her down. She was old enough to make her own choices. As they’d predicted, she’d brought herself down. In her rebellion, she’d lost them and everything else.

“That was in the past. What about now?”

“I don’t know. They won’t talk to me.”

“When’s the last time you tried?”

She stuck the fry in her mouth and chewed to delay answering. Finally, she admitted, “When I was pregnant with the twins.”

“Nearly three years? That’s a long time.” He aimed a fry at her. “If they’re decent people—and since they raised you, I’m guessing they are—you need to make contact, work out your differences.”

Pride rose in her chest, tight, painful. “Too much bad water under the bridge.”

“Have you prayed about it?”

With a shake of her head, Whitney reached for another fry buried deep within a glob of ketchup. The oversaturated potato wobbled like a noodle. “They said a lot of hurtful things.”

“And you didn’t?”

“You don’t understand.” Her great day was going south in a hurry. She crammed the soggy French fry into her mouth and chewed.

“I don’t want to get preachy on you, Whit, but when we have issues with other people, we have to try to fix them. As Christians, it’s on us to do the right thing even when it’s hard.” He fiddled with his straw, his focus on her. “Family’s important. You won’t regret trying.”

Ketchup tangy on her tongue, Whitney considered his advice. In the time since the twins’ birth, since she’d met Jesus, she’d thought about her family a lot. Had they forgiven her? Could they ever? Had she done everything in her power to make amends?

Of course she wanted her family back in her life. The twins deserved to know their grandparents, and the mother and dad she remembered from childhood, before she’d rebelled and gone wild, were great.

While they finished their burgers, she mulled the situation and listened as Nate greeted other customers. She heard so many new names, she’d never keep them straight.

The Burger Barn was crowded. Normal, Nate claimed, especially on a Saturday. Chatter was loud and chairs scraped the concrete floor. Over everything were Aunt Mint’s robust greetings and the fragrant scent of grilled burgers.

Whitney could see herself staying in this small, friendly town forever. She’d been searching for home for a long, long time, and she’d finally found it.

Around the crowded café, she saw farmers with their farmers’ tans, ranchers in their cowboy hats, moms and dads with their little ones, and teenagers paired-up and moony-eyed.

At the register, Aunt Mint talked to a man in a blue shirt who looked faintly familiar. Whitney squinted, trying to place him. As he turned to leave, she blinked. Once. Twice.

Was that Ronnie Flood, her very distant cousin? And if it was, what was he doing in Calypso?