Lawson hoped like crazy that Madison would behave herself.

His house lights were ablaze as he guided his beautiful date up the steps. He knocked. “It’s me, Uncle Burglar. Let me in.”

Beside him, Dallas snickered. “I hope Madison doesn’t come to the door with an iron skillet in her hand.”

He fumbled in his pocket for a key and found it just as Madison unlocked the door. She didn’t even bother with a greeting. She gave him a why-are-you-bothering-me look, turned around and went back inside the house, disappearing down the hall a moment later.

Lawson exchanged a glance with Dallas. “Sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it.” She entered the living room in front of him and placed her clutch and coat on the nearest chair back. She was comfortable in herself, and he liked that in a woman.

Fact was, he liked a lot of things about Dallas Langley. Other than being eye-burning pretty, she was smart, funny, warm and friendly, and extremely easy to talk to. She was also ambitious. A good thing, but also a good reason for him to keep a distance. Dallas was only visiting. Granted, if she and the Caldwells were family, the chances of him seeing her again were increased, but she was the type to make it big somewhere. Calypso was too small for a smart, gorgeous woman with big dreams.

Tell that to his heart. Tonight, when he’d picked her up at the hotel, his pulse had raced to see her walking toward him across the lobby. She’d looked elegant in short, high-heeled boots and a long, black dress slit up to her knee, her sleek hair gleaming against a hot pick cardigan.

He was out of his league but enjoying the ride while it lasted.

“Would you like some coffee?” He motioned toward the kitchen. “Fast and easy in the Keurig.”

“Nothing for me, thanks. I’m stuffed from that wonderful dinner.” She remained in the living room, taking in his comfy black sofa and chair, the television that spanned one wall and was definitely too big for the room, the mish-mash of end tables he’d bought at a ranch auction because he’d liked them. Rustic barn wood with wrought iron corner braces on top and black, metal-worked cowboys around the bottom.

Lawson was glad he kept the place in decent shape. But if Dallas saw his closet, she’d faint. Not that she’d have any reason to look inside his closet.

“Have a seat, and I’ll grab my laptop from the bedroom.” He left her in the living room and passed down the hall, not bothering to stop until he reached Madison’s room.

The door stood open. She was sprawled across the end of the bed, scribbling in her journal. He pecked a knuckle against the wood.

Madison looked up, frowning. “Why do you keep knocking?”

“Because knocking is considered good manners, and so is greeting a guest.”

“Why? She’s not interested in me. Her eyes are all over you.”

As much as he liked the sound of that, Lawson said, “Why not go in and at least say hello?”

“Dad always told me to make myself scarce when he brought home women.”

Your dad needs a swift kick. “I’m not your dad.”

“Ain’t that the truth?” She closed the journal and sauntered past him.

He called behind her. “There’s a carry-out container on the table if you’re hungry.”

She whipped around. “You brought me carry-out?”

Again, that incredulous expression that said she was accustomed to fending for herself. “I hope steak is all right.”

“It’ll do.” For a moment, the girl stood in the dimly lit hallway, one hip lower than the other. Then, she whipped around and started toward the living room. “I love steak.”

The words were barely uttered, but Lawson heard them.

Dallas’s idea. Brilliant woman.

He retrieved the laptop from the bedroom where he’d worked last night on a sheriff’s never-ending paperwork. He’d rather spend his days among the people of the county than at his desk, so a lot of paperwork followed him home.

Before he could leave the room, his cell phone buzzed. As eager as he was to get back to his date, he had an obligation to answer.

It was the sheriff in the next county, updating him on a meeting scheduled for next week, asking him to present a report on drug traffic through the area. After a couple of minutes, they rang off.

“Here you go.” He re-entered the living room to find Dallas sitting on the ottoman in front of his favorite chair. Madison was in it.

They were talking about fashion. Something about booties versus boots and what clothes to wear with which style.

He tried not to make a face.

Dallas looked up at him and smiled. “We’re discussing the merits of boots.”

“Scintillating information, I’m sure.”

She laughed. “It is to us girls.”

“And you know what?” Madison leaned up, surprisingly animated. “Dallas and I wear the same size!”

“Shocking.”

It was the wrong response. Madison lost her sparkle and flopped back against the chair. He’d been teasing. But she must have taken his remark as condescension.

Dallas came to his rescue. She bent toward her boot and took hold of the zipper. “Want to try these on?”

“Can I?”

“You may.”

The exchange was made, and Madison gushed like the teen she was.

The boot was one of those ankle styles with sharp heels that made Dallas almost as tall as him. Not very practical on a ranch, but sexy as all get out. On Dallas. Madison was a tad awkward as she clomped and wobbled around the hardwood floor.

Dallas sat on his ottoman, knees crossed, swinging her bare foot, smiling at the young girl.

It was the first time he’d seen Madison show the slightest interest in anything.

“Wait, wait. We need a picture.” Dallas snapped open her clutch and removed a cell phone.

“Okay.” Madison sounded almost breathless. Didn’t her dad snap pictures of her? Probably not. Did anyone?

“Strike a pose. Hand on hip. Toss your hair.”

Madison followed the instructions, giggling, her face pink while Dallas took several photos.

“There we go.”

“Can I see?” Madison scooched onto the ottoman to remove the boots and look at photos. “I like that one.”

“They’re all good. You’re photogenic.”

“I am?”

“The proof’s right here.” Dallas held the phone toward him. “Isn’t she, Lawson?”

All he saw was an awkward kid playing grown-up. But that was not an observation she’d want to hear. “Can you send that one to my cell?”

“Sure.”

In a few taps, Lawson heard his phone ping.

For once, Madison actually looked happy. Thanks to Dallas. He almost hated to change the subject.

“Sorry to break up the fashion shoot, but Dallas needs to borrow my laptop for a few minutes.”

“Right.” The attitude was back. “I got stuff to do anyway.” Madison tugged off the boots and handed them back to Dallas.

“You have food in the kitchen.”

“Not hungry. You kids have fun.” She disappeared down the hallway. Her bedroom door closed with a snap.

Lawson heaved a heavy sigh. One step forward and two leaps back.

Dallas heard Madison’s door close, but her focus was on the man standing in the middle of the living room, staring down the hall, looking about as lost as a man could look.

After replacing her boots, she rose from the ottoman and went to him. Compassion was one of her strengths, but it was also a weakness. She could never turn away from someone hurting. In this house, there were two hurting souls.

“Hey.” She put a hand on his arm. It was rock hard, tense, like his jaw.

He gave his head a little shake and turned toward her. “See what I mean? I upset her, but I have no clue what I did.”

Her compassion shot a little higher. Along with the thought that Lawson was a good man. And she didn’t like thinking of cops as good guys. “Want me to talk to her?”

“Nah. Won’t do any good.” He rubbed the back of his neck, brow furrowed. “Would you mind?”

“Talking’s what I do,” she said softly, wondering why she still held his arm, and why she still stood close enough to see the black ring around his gorgeous irises. “Do you mind if she eats in her room?”

“I’d rather she didn’t get into the habit, but maybe this once, if you think it would help.”

“Never mind. I’ll use the food as a lure.” She winked and started down the hall.

“I’ll boot up the computer.”

She looked over one shoulder, saw the cowboy sheriff moving toward the center island and the laptop he’d brought in. Something far stronger than a flutter moved through her.

Stop it. Just stop it, she told herself. Look, but don’t touch. Enjoy, but don’t get involved. Especially now, not after Aaron and not with the Caldwell issue hanging in limbo.

At the moment, she didn’t even know who she was.

As Dallas walked the short hall with four doors leading off to the left and right, she realized she hadn’t asked which room was Madison’s. She pecked on the first one, peeked inside, and found a bathroom. The next room contained a weight set and a treadmill. No wonder the sheriff was fit and trim.

She closed the door, moved to the next where she tapped again and opened. This had to be Lawson’s room. It screamed him in all his masculine, cowboy glory.

A brown comforter with blue southwest designs around the edge covered a big bed made of dark, sturdy wood. A star was carved into the headboard. A tall chest and night stand matched the bed, complete with smaller stars. A photo of a man and boy sat on the nightstand, and a gorgeous painting of running horses hung on one wall.

She inhaled, holding her breath to keep the masculine scent inside in her head. The room even smelled like him, and, except for Lawson’s black bomber jacket tossed across the bed, was neat and clean. Her perfectionist tendencies were pleased.

Dallas caught herself, realized she was prying, and quickly shut the door and moved on. She pecked on the last door and received no answer, but by process of elimination, she knew this had to be Madison’s room.

She turned the knob. Locked. She leaned closer. “Madison. It’s Dallas. Can we talk? Please.”

After a long moment of rustling sounds, the knob wobbled and the door opened. Dallas’s heart squeezed. The girl’s eyes were red.

“Oh, honey.”

“I’m not crying. I have sinus issues.”

“Which you weren’t experiencing five minutes ago.”

Madison cocked one hip, eyebrows up, lip curled. “So?”

“So, I care. Your uncle cares. We want to help.”

The tough expression wobbled. Just a little, but enough that Dallas knew she was making progress. “Come on. Let’s sit and talk for a minute.”

“Won’t my uncle get cold without you to snuggle up with?”

“Your uncle and I are only friends. New friends, at that.”

“Never slowed my dad down.”

You dad is a… a word I don’t want to think. “I’d like to be your friend, too.”

“Why?”

“Because I think you need one, and so do I.”

Madison flopped onto the bed’s edge, head leaned back as if the ceiling were her best friend.

“My old man doesn’t want me. Uncle Lawson doesn’t want me. My mom ran off because I’m such a wonderful kid. I don’t expect you to stick around either.”

“Friends don’t have to be in the same town to be friends. I’m only visiting here, but we can talk on the phone, text, social media.”

Madison brought her head down and squinted. “You do social media? Like Snapchat and stuff?”

“I do.” Though when Aaron had begun his craziness, she’d set all her accounts to private. Neither that, nor a restraining order, had stopped him. “I haven’t been online in a while. Things going on in my life. But—”

“What kind of things?” Leave it to a teenager to latch onto that part of the conversation.

No way was she discussing Aaron with anyone, certainly not a thirteen-year-old. “It’s hard to talk about.”

“I know what you mean.”

Dallas sat down on the edge of the bed, angling to face Madison. “I think you do, so I’ll tell you.” A little. “I lost my job.”

“That’s tough. What kind of job? Were you a model or something?”

She gave a short laugh. “No, but thank you for the compliment. I had my own show on the radio.”

“No way! Get out of here! That is the coolest thing ever!”

If she’d known the word radio would bring out the exclamations, she’d have tossed it out sooner.

“I loved my work. Still love it and plan to find another job in radio as soon as…I can.” As soon as the stench of her terrible failure stopped making the rounds of the radio world.

“So how long are you staying here? In Calypso, I mean?”

“I haven’t decided yet.”

“I hope it’s a long time. Maybe you could even work for the station here in town. I know there is one, because we drive past it on the way to school.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Starting over? In a small market? Not if she could help it. “Your uncle drives you to school? That’s nice of him.”

“I guess. Riding in a cop car is weird, and everybody stares, but it beats riding the stinky bus.”

“I’d feel the same,” Dallas said. “How was school?”

“Other than the fact that I hate it, hate my teachers, hate the dumb kids in my class, I guess it’s okay. I made a B on an English test today, and I wasn’t even here for the whole unit.”

“Which means you’re a smart cookie. Speaking of cookies, reminds me of food. Yours.” Dallas stood, tugging the girl up with her. “Let’s go feed you. That steak smells amazing.”

“Won’t I be in the way?”

“Not at all. I want you in there.”

“For real? Or are you blowing smoke?”

“No smoking allowed.”

Madison rolled her eyes at the pun, but she laughed too. “Okay.”

They started out of the room. As they traversed the hall, Madison paused to ask, “Sometime, when you have time. I mean, not now. That’s too much trouble. And you’re really busy.”

Dallas touched the girl’s shoulder. “Just ask.”

“Will you show me how you make your eyebrows look like that, all clean and perfect?”

“Sure. If it’s okay with your uncle.”

“He’s not my boss.”

“Actually, he is, Madison. And he’s not a bad guy. Give him a break.”

“Yeah, whatever.”

They came into the living room, and Madison headed around the center island toward the kitchen and her food.

Lawson stood on the living-area side of the island, sipping a cup of coffee. He raised one eyebrow at Dallas in question. She gave a silent nod and a smile, and he looked so relieved, she wanted to hug him.

Silly thought. So, to keep her arms to herself, she moved to the computer he’d set up on the island and climbed onto a bar stool.

“Did Madison tell you about her English test? She made a B. And she wasn’t even here to study the unit.”

“Seriously?” To his credit, he leaned across the island and said, “Good going, Madison.”

The teen was too busy stuffing down steak and loaded baked potato to answer, but her cheeks reddened and her eyes sparkled.

Lawson shot Dallas a grateful look and mouthed, “Thanks.”

She hadn’t really done anything except talk to the child. But then, talking was her gift.

Dallas logged into her email. Sure enough, there was the message from Wyatt Caldwell. She didn’t open it.

She shook out her hands, wiggled her fingers. “I’m nervous.”

Lawson scooted a bar stool up close to hers so that their shoulders brushed. “Need company, or want to do this alone? I can make myself scarce.”

His voice was low, almost tender, and altogether masculine.

A quiver of awareness moved through her again. She swallowed, nervous for a brand-new reason. Him. “Company. But just…sit here. Don’t read anything.”

He squeezed the top of her hand where it lay on the island granite. “Deal.”

He shifted slightly, his eyes on her instead of the computer. Which only made her more of aware of him.

His cologne, some warm, musky fragrance that reminded her of the woods in summer, swirled around her, light, barely there, but enough to be captivating.

And oh, my, she was starting to get out of control.

Madison’s voice jerked her to her senses.

“Can I take this in my room?” She held up the carry out box.

She sounded almost like a normal, respectful kid.

“I’d rather you eat at the table,” Lawson said.

“But I’ve got an math paper to finish, and I’m starving.”

“All right. This once. But we’re not making a habit of it.”

She rolled her eyes. “I won’t get steak sauce on your precious bedding or whatever you’re having a cow about.”

The teen scooted around them and left the room. Lawson got that helpless look again.

Dallas patted his forearm. “Stop worrying. You’ve made progress.”

“How so?”

“She actually asked if she could take the food to her room. She didn’t stomp away.”

“That’s true.” He brightened.

Dallas clicked on the email, read it, and then clicked on the attachments, perusing each one in turn. When she’d finished, she minimized the entire email and sat back.

“He told me a little about the Caldwell family. Three brothers and a sister. Besides me.” She licked dry lips. “The documents Wyatt attached are samples of my DNA compared to every single sibling.”

“And,” he gently urged.

“I know very little about DNA, but this looks legit.” She nodded toward the computer.

“So, you are?”

“Yes. I think I am.” She took a deep breath, tried to still the rattling in her bones, and said, “Though I can’t wrap my head around it, it must be true. I’m their half-sister.”

“You’re shaking.” He swiveled the chair around and pulled her hands into his lap, rubbing a thumb along the tops. “Are you okay? Not going to faint on me again, are you?”

His lips curved the slightest bit, and he looked so concerned and tender she nearly melted.

Must be the shock.

“No. I’m just…overwhelmed. A little scared. Shaken, really.”

“You’ve never looked for your birth father?”

“Other than taking one of those online DNA tests, no. My mom says zero about her past life. I asked her a few times, and she got really upset. She always said she’d take it to her grave.”

“I wonder why?”

“Isn’t that obvious? My father has other kids. He was a married man. He and my mother had an affair, and I was a nasty little surprise.”

He squeezed her hands. “Bet your mother didn’t feel that way.”

She shook her head. “She didn’t. Even if she made terrible choices in men, including my father and the two husbands that are long gone, she loved me, spoiled me like a princess. I had a good childhood.” Except for the times Mom was married.

“You’re her only child? No siblings?”

She nudged her chin toward the computer. “Only these I’ve never met.”

“The Caldwells are great people. If I had to pick a family, I’d pick them.”

“You wouldn’t choose your own?”

“Mine?” He gave a short laugh but didn’t answer the question directly. “Just me and my dad. We did okay. My parents divorced when I was small.”

“And then your mother married Madison’s dad’s father?”

“I can barely comprehend what you just said.”

She laughed. He was making her feel better, calming her jitters. Nice guy, she thought again. How could he be a cop?

He was going to regret this in the morning.

It was long past midnight, and Lawson still wasn’t ready to say goodnight to Dallas.

As he walked her across the parking lot toward the hotel entrance, the moon lit a pathway and a cold wind circled them. He didn’t resist the urge to tug her a bit closer to his side. Her long, elegant black coat was probably warm enough, but he ignored that fact. Smelling her perfume, feeling her hand enclosed inside his, listening to that velvety voice of hers, was mighty nice.

“You feel okay about seeing Wyatt tomorrow?”

“I do now. Thanks to you.”

“If you need me…” He let the words dangle as they reached the hotel door and he opened it into the well-lit lobby. Warmth rushed toward them.

Out of courtesy for the other guests, they quieted then, regrettably, though they’d talked so much tonight he marveled that he had more to say to her.

The carpeted hallway was hushed beneath their feet. Even her heels were silent. At Room 5, she took her key from her clutch and turned to face him.

“I enjoyed tonight,” she said.

“Me, too.” He stared down into her eyes, feeling…something. “Maybe we can do it again.”

“I’d like that.”

“Tomorrow night? My place?” Did he sound too desperate? “I’m a serviceable cook.”

“Sounds tempting.” She pretended to consider. “I just happen to have tomorrow night open.”

And the next, he hoped.

“After dinner, we could have a look at those etchings.” He smiled to let her know he teased.

“Etchings are tempting, but I’d rather see your horses.” She playfully batted her eyelashes and smiled. “For now.”

If that didn’t set his heart racing, he was dead.

“You like horses?”

“Very much. My mother was a barrel racer.”

“Seriously?” This got better by the minute. “So, do you race, too?”

“I tried when I was younger, mostly to please her, but I didn’t have her fearless talent. I was better and happier in the press box.”

“But you ride?”

“Oh, yes.” She leaned her head to one side, her long hair swishing open to reveal big silver hoop earrings. “I owned a buckskin gelding until I moved to Bayville. Sweet boy.”

Somehow he couldn’t see Dallas as a horse woman. She looked too fancy, too into fashion and beauty to also be into horses. But the combination thrilled him to the toenails.

He thought about kissing her then. Her face was tilted up, eyes dancing, and she was close enough that all he’d have to do was lean in and press his mouth to hers.

But before he could, another guest entered the hall. He took a step back. He and Dallas exchanged regretful glances.

Some moments were too personal, too private to share with strangers. This was one of them. The county sheriff couldn’t be caught in a hotel hallway kissing anyone, no matter how beautiful and agreeable she was.

But if he had any say in the matter, there would definitely be another time, another place.