Colt looked around at all the people he knew, bored out of his skull. Shiloh ran up to him with something cupped in his hands.

“Look at the ladybug!” Shiloh said, with the attentiveness of a five-year-old.

Colt lay on a blanket on the ground, part of the fall apple festival that was going on this beautiful Saturday. The whole town turned out to the empty lot in the middle for this, and then some. They had some tables set up at one end of the lot, but most people were spread out on the grass, socializing.

Colt was surrounded by Rivers and Romans, sitting on blankets and enjoying various apple-related dishes that people had brought.

“That’s cool, buddy. Where do you think she belongs, though?” Colt asked Shiloh.

Shiloh looked thoughtful, then nodded and put the ladybug on the ground.

“You can still watch her,” Colt said, pushing away the remainder off his applesauce cake. “Where is she going?”

“I don’t know! Maybe she’s going home to feed her family.” Shiloh looked up at Colt. “I’m gonna get my dad. He should see this.”

Colt looked over at Sawyer, who was two blankets away talking to Remy. Shiloh knelt to talk to him, and was somehow convinced to stay still.

Colt wondered if anyone would notice if he just… left. He’d showed up for a while, made his presence known. Surely he didn’t owe Catahoula Creek any more than that?

He’d already flirted with Missy and talked horses with the Jacksons. He was out of people to talk to, aside from his brothers and the Rivers.

He stood up and stretched innocuously. He turned in the direction of the town, and saw a familiar figure approach.

Rose Elliott, walking one of her dogs. She was looking at everyone congregated, probably puzzling over why they were all gathered in the middle of town on a Saturday.

Colt set off in her direction. “Rose!”

She turned at the sound of her name, and went red.

“Uh… hi,” she said. “Just heading to the grocery.”

She jerked her thumb behind her, like there was some chance that he didn’t know where the grocery might be in a town he’d lived in his entire life.

“Wrong day,” he said, scoping her out covertly. “The guy that runs the grocery is here, with his whole family.”

She wore plain jeans and a girly Saints t-shirt, but she looked good. Like, those jeans would look better on his floor, kind of good.

Colt groaned inwardly at his thought process, shutting it down.

“Oh,” she said with a frown. “Well… that sucks. I guess I’ll have to go tomorrow, then.

“After church, you mean. Because you know, Mr. Gross will be in church, too.”

“Is that the grocer?”

Colt nodded. “Yeah. He sticks to a very — some might say laid back — schedule. And the store isn’t open when he’s not there.”

“Yeah, I’ve seen the store. It’s tiny,” she said, scrunching her face up. “Well, it was nice to see you—”

“You should come on over. You’d be the object of some serious admiration, from what I gather.”

Rose flushed that same shade of red.

“I wouldn’t… I wouldn’t like that,” she said.

She was gripping the leash for the sheepdog so tight, Colt almost felt sorry for the poor creature. She really needed to relax, big time.

“I’ll tell you what. You come and say hi to your new potential customers, and I’ll protect you.”

“That’s really nice, but—”

“Hey! Rose!” Shelby shouted, waving her over. “Come here!”

Colt looked to Rose expectantly, who sighed in a defeated way.

“She’s the first customer I met in town. I’ll just go over to say hi,” she said. Not one to miss a beat, Colt offered her his arm. She looked at him, then shook her head. “Not really my thing.”

Colt’s brows rose, but he was too polite to say anything. Rose flushed red again, and Colt wondered if he had her dead wrong.

Does she like girls more than guys… in bed? he wondered. It would explain her friendly yet unfriendly demeanor, as far as he was concerned.

He followed behind her, watching the way she greeted men versus women. She said hi to everybody, except Shiloh, who she gave an awkward hug.

“This is Elvira,” she introduced the sheepdog.

“Elvira! Cool!” Shiloh said. His father had to intervene to keep him from hugging the dog as he had Rose.

“Sit down!” Shelby insisted, putting a hand on Rose’s shoulder.

Rose visibly shrank away from the contact, politely folding in on herself and sitting down rather than continue being touched. The dog went with her, happy as only dogs could be.

Interesting, he thought. So it’s not just me, she’s disinterested in touching anyone.

“Rose, this is Micah, and Larkin. And my father Braxton, and of course Eulah, my mother…” Shelby said.

As she talked to Shelby and Remy, and met their parents and siblings, Rose was… withdrawn. Not comfortable in a social situation, not talking much.

But listening plenty, he was willing to bet.

“Let me give you the lowdown,” Shelby said, settling in on the blanket. “That cluster of people of there are all Jesus freaks…”

“Shelby!” her mother said, scandalized.

“Well, I guess this blanket is, too. We go to church beaucoup.” She dropped a little Cajun French slang in there. “Now that group of people over there? Racist misogynists.”

Colt looked over at the people Shelby had pointed out. Some of the guys he’d gotten into a fight with were there, Adam Rich and Toby Smalls chief among them. He really couldn’t disagree with Shelby’s summation.

Shelby went on, but Colt wasn’t really interested anymore. He sat down a little ways away from Rose, watching her.

He could tell that her posture was stiff and formal. Where everybody else was sprawled out, she was sitting perfectly straight, careful not to lean toward anyone.

Shelby told her who everybody was, who was sleeping with whom, who worked with what company. It was quite a lecture, nice and long.

He’d have found a way to slump down during Shelby’s speech, but not Rose. She simply sat and listened politely, nonreactive.

“Oh… there’s Mrs. Wilkes. I should go talk to her,” Shelby said, winding down the lecture. “Her daughter is just the right age for the piano, and they’re loaded…”

“Okay,” Rose said.

Shelby got up and went over to the food tables, chatting animatedly with Mrs. Wilkes. Remy was also at the food tables, nosing through the desserts.

Rose was left looking around, as though her only friends had left her, and the rest of the group planned to eat her alive.

“It’s not that bad,” Colt said.

She turned to him, gave him a look, then shrugged.

“Social situations have never been my thing.”

“No? But you seem so comfortable,” he teased.

“I guess that’s what you get when your mom is a weird faith healer and your dad is a no-show. I had a really isolated childhood,” she said.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“It’s okay. I mean… my mom encouraged my studies, helped me get into college and vet school. You’d be surprised how many of the shaman’s followers were at the schools I wanted to go to.”

Colt raised his brows.

“You mean… she targeted them?”

“No, but she did have some favors to call in…” Rose said, shaking her head. “My mother is one of those people who believes that if you ask, the world will provide whatever you need.”

“Ohhh, so your mom is one of those,” he said. “Jesus. My parents could not be more different than that.”

“No?”

“My dad is a hardass military type. My brothers and I call him The Colonel, and he earned the name.”

“Let me guess. Your mother is the sainted type? To put up with The Colonel, I assume she is.”

“Well… you’re sort of right. My mom died when I was twelve, and she kicked The Colonel out of her bed long before that. But she was the sainted type, that’s true.”

Her brow furrowed.

“I’m sorry.”

He wasn’t sure if she meant she was sorry that his mother had died, or sorry that she’d brought it up.

“It’s in the past,” he said with a shrug.

“My dad died when I was little, but I barely knew him,” she said, unemotional.

Colt looked at her, while she fiddled with a loose thread on her jeans. She was really walled off, disconnected from her emotions.

She glanced up at him.

“If your dad was such a militant hardass, why did you go into the SEALs?”

Her question impressed him. She’d remembered what they’d talked about, at least.

“My brothers were in the Navy,” he said, nodding to Sawyer. “I figured it was as good a way as any to get out of this town for a while.”

“You have more brothers?”

“One. Sawyer’s the oldest, Walker’s the middle..”

“And you’re the baby. Makes sense,” she said, amused.

“Hey, I might be the youngest, but I’m twenty-nine. And I’ve been all over the world. I even speak a little Farsi.”

“And yet…” she said. “You’re back where you started.”

He made a face.

“Yeah. When I got hurt, I couldn’t work for the Navy anymore. My father requested that I come home and watch over the ranch. I figured, why not?”

He felt a sudden sprinkle of rain. He looked up.

“Damn, rain clouds.”

“I should get home anyway.”

She climbed to her feet, petting Elvira. The dog looked antsy, as though Rose could do something about the darkening sky, or the low rumble of thunder.

“Here,” he said, standing up and grabbing their blanket. Everyone else was standing and organizing, or grabbing leftovers off the food tables. “Come on, I’ll walk you guys home.”

“Oh—” she started to protest, but he was hearing none of it.

“Seriously, I have to walk that way to get to my truck,” he said.

Her brow knitted, but she just nodded as the first few raindrops fell on them. They half-walked, half-ran the few blocks to her house, rain beginning to fall in earnest.

They made it to her front stoop, underneath the overhang, both soaking wet. Her t-shirt clung to every curve, tantalizing him. She pushed back the hair on her forehead, looking like a fantasy come to life.

She unlocked her front door, then froze.

“I…” she started, turning to him.

“You don’t have to invite me in,” he said, amused.

“You’re really… a girl would be lucky to…” she tried, going red. Then, quieter: “I’m just not ready. Okay?”

Her admission took him by surprise.

“Um… okay,” he said, wiping rain from his brow.

“I’m just— I have to go,” she said.

The way she stayed put, the fact that she held Elvira so close… She meant that she needed him to go.

“All right,” he said. He shrugged, then turned and walked out in the rain, back towards Sawyer and Remy’s house.

His brain was full of questions. He glanced back, just once, and saw her standing there on her front stoop, watching him. Her shoulders were slumped, like she was disappointed in herself.

Colt shook himself, jogging the rest of the way to his truck. Once he was inside, he had to wonder.

Who had hurt Rose so badly that she couldn’t even open the door in Colt’s proximity?

Shaking his head, he threw the truck in gear and peeled off toward the ranch.