Francine smiled when Payton walked in the door, looking like she'd just gotten off the back of a fast horse. Her black-as-pitch hair swayed down her back and around her shoulders as she leaned forward to give Francine a hug. For a moment, she longed for the youth she could see in Payton's eyes.

Then her gaze flicked to Garrett, sitting at the head of the table. Age had crept up on both of them in the past couple of weeks, but she wouldn't change anything about their lives. Yes, they were going through some changes, but it would be good for them in the long run. She could already tell.

Garrett was recovering and letting go of some of the strain he'd been under. The heart attack and broken humerus had been devastating, reminding him that he was mortal. Brock was more than ready to take over the ranch. He had been for years, but Garrett hadn't wanted to let go.

As she watched, Payton moved down the length of the table and leaned down for a hug.

"Papa Lowell, you're looking too handsome for your own good. How does Francine handle all that honey?"

Garrett laughed, just like he always did when Payton was around. "Oh, it’s a struggle, but she's the strongest woman I know. If she can handle an old bear like me, she can handle anyone."

Francine watched Payton interact with him. They were friendly and playful, Garrett teasing her as if she were his own daughter. And Payton basked in the attention. Her own family lived on the other side of the county, so they didn't see each other much.

As Garrett talked about one of the calves they were feeding, Payton settled into the chair to his left. She looked up and smiled as Francine placed a glass of tea at her elbow.

It was like any other time she'd ever been in the house. Cheyenne didn't live here anymore, but Payton still came for regular visits because she loved them like they were her own. Garrett told her about Chad's plans for the wedding and she got a beaming look on her face as she listened to the details.

Surely Cheyenne had kept her up to date, hadn’t she? The two of them talked almost daily, and Cheyenne would never have sat upon good gossip for anything. Yet Payton was letting Garrett share the news like it was fresh off the press. She was a good girl like that.

Francine frowned, repeating the thought in her head. Payton wasn't a girl. She hadn't been a girl for a very long time. Brock still thought of her that way, but he was the only one.

Whether her hard-headed son realized it or not, Brock had staked a claim to her years ago. Francine could remember more than one incident where one of the hands had expressed interest. Payton seemed flattered by their attention, but disengaged from any real connection.

But she always looked to Brock to see if there was any reaction. And there usually had been. Brock's face would turn red with anger and he'd snap the head off of the offending ranch hand. But he would play it off saying it was because Payton 'was like a sister'.

Yeah, right.

Whether Brock realized it or not, he watched that woman like a hawk searching for a mate.

Francine smiled and waved as Payton left the house. She'd come over to retrieve her horse, but Francine had a feeling she was hoping to snag something a little more wild than that gelding of hers.

---

Payton paused on the front porch of the house and looked around. The barn lot hadn't changed too much in the past fifteen years. It had gotten a little fuller as more buildings had been built, but it was still homey. The Blue Star ranch felt like a protective little village or something.

No, that wasn’t it.

It felt like a real home.

As she jogged down the stairs, Payton wondered how many times she’d left this house in search of a glimpse of Brock. Many, she admitted to herself. And had been disappointed almost as many.

She scanned the horizon, looking for the maroon Chevy farm truck Brock drove. She saw the corner of the hood peeking out from behind the barn. He must have gone out on horseback then.

Sean Whelan, the former Army Ranger Brock had hired a few months ago, waved at her when she walked in, but he didn't smile like most people did when they greeted someone. Payton wondered how long it had taken him to even make eye contact comfortably. She'd treated men like him before, even one woman, who had ghosts in their eyes and scars on their arms.

"Hey, Sean. I'm just picking up Chico. His tack in the tack room?"

Sean gave her a single nod, then looked back at the saddle he was cleaning, dismissing her.

The guy wasn’t being rude or anything. It was just his way of disengaging.

Payton headed to the tack room in search of Chico's tack. She found it on a spare saddle tree just inside the door, where it was always kept. She hadn't actually needed to ask Sean where it was, she'd just wanted to connect to him a little. The man seemed so alone.

Gathering up the saddle and bridle she headed out to the paddock and her horses. By the time she set off on Mineer, leading Chico, she still hadn't seen any sign of Brock. Jackson was hiding out too, and he was the only one who knew where Brock had headed.

Maybe it was better not to see him right now. Her head was in a muddle from their kiss. She'd been kissed before, many times, but those all faded when stacked against the one from Brock in her kitchen.

A hot wind blew from the West, plastering her sweaty t-shirt against her. Making a spur of the moment decision, she turned the horses to the South along a well-worn path. A couple of miles away was a copse of trees with a small hidden spring in it. Years ago, Garrett and the boys had gone in and developed the spring, digging out a pool so that his kids would have a place to play. It had taken only a few days for the pool to fill and it had been the best swimming hole the kids could have ever hoped for. Garrett had fenced around the entire little oasis, then built a second pool downstream for the cattle to take advantage of the overflow.

Through the years they'd built forts and had picnics at the Oasis and it carried some of her best memories… of childhood, through high school and beyond. That was all before Cheyenne had married that abusive asshole… the father of her children… and before Chad had gone off to war and returned forever changed.

It was before Brock and Chad had ended up at odds and before Brock had kissed her the first time for her twenty-first birthday.

Those early years had been idyllic for her as a child. She'd always felt more a part of the Lowell family than she ever had her own.

The horses seemed to want to get out of the heat as much as she did, because they broke into a ground-eating trot as they went up and down the low hills. Both well knew where they were going.

After about half an hour, they entered the shade of the trees. Garrett had only fenced about three acres around the pool. The rest of the woods were open to the cattle, and in the heat of the day it was usually crowded. Not today, though. Hmm… strange.

They wound through the woods and came to a small, eight-foot pipe gate. Payton leaned down and unfastened the flip latch, shifting through the opening. It wasn't as smooth as going through the gate this morning, but it was good enough with the second horse in tow.

Once inside the gate it was less than a quarter mile to the pool. Dismounting, Payton untacked the horses and let them go. They could graze or find shade.

She took the path up the little rise, then down into the bowl shaped area. She remembered when they’d had built this, years ago.

It had been Garrett and Chad and Brock, all three on tractors, moving dirt and rocks. Then men had then traced back to the source of the spring where it welled up from the ground. They’d buried a pipe into the origination point and given it a direction. Rather than a swampy marsh area it was turned into a stone-banked stream and a nice deep pond. Rocks lined the outside and there was even a nice little peninsula that jutted out into the water.

It took the Lowell men several weeks to get it completely done, then Francine, being Francine, had come out and planted some flower bulbs here and there. Now the place was really a beautiful sight, a real oasis.

And on hot days like today, when you started sweating as soon as you stepped out of the shower, it was a refreshing place to hang out. Payton checked her phone. She still had a couple of hours before she was due on shift, so she could hang out for a while.

Crossing to the square plastic box set into the knee of one of the big white sycamore trees, she rummaged through it. She'd brought a few towels out about a week ago. Yep, there they were, in the plastic bag just where she'd left them. She pulled one out and headed back to the little gravel beach. With a final glance around to make sure she was alone, she stripped off her dusty clothes, making a pile beside the towel.

Then she plunged into the water.