Colt was sitting in his truck outside Sawyer’s house, looking toward Rose’s. He hadn’t talked to her in days, deciding that she needed some space.

Now that it was the fourth day, he questioned his judgment. The problem was that he had no idea what was going on in her head. He still didn’t know exactly what had brought on her freak-out.

And after she’d freaked out in front of him, she'd completely shut down. There was no point in even talking to her.

He sighed and shifted in his seat, looking out at the main road. Colt spotted a group of men walking across the road to the diner, Jared Chalke amongst them.

He squinted at the men. Mostly they were older members of the community, men who owned large tracts of land.

That plus Jared Chalke didn’t add up to anything good, as far as Colt was concerned. It was straight up fishy for a real estate developer to be hanging out with some of the town’s decision makers.

He saw the sheriff’s bald head right there in the mix. Interesting that Sheriff Thorn would choose to hang out with Jared. The sheriff was usually too busy worrying about his image to spend time with such low-hanging fruit

Colt started his truck and pulled out slowly. Jared’s head turned as he went by; Colt had definitely gained his attention.

He mulled over the situation with Rose on the drive home. By the time he pulled up outside the bunkhouse, he’d come to the conclusion that he was going to have to call her, sooner or later.

He got out of the truck, heading into his apartment. The curs were unusually anxious today, whining and pacing.

“What’s going on?” he asked them, not that they could answer. He turned and looked around. “What, are you guys gonna Lassie me? Is Timmy in the well?”

His lips twitched at his own joke. He scanned the yard, thinking that something was out of place.

He looked around. Missy was usually someplace easy to find, but he didn’t see her now.

He whistled. “Missy!”

Twenty other curs showed up, but no Missy. He frowned.

After a quick search of the yard, he found her in the barn. She was in a hay-filled corner, lying with her eyes closed, no puppies evident. When he approached her, though, she growled at him.

He’d seen a hundred or more Catahoula curs born, and none of the births had involved such passivity. Usually once the labor pains came on, the puppies were out of the womb twenty minutes later.

“Shit,” he said.

Colt got closer, ignoring her growls. Her belly was moving, contracting, the puppies inside her ready to come out. When he tried to touch her, she snapped at him, using a bit of her reserved energy.

He withdrew. He needed to call Rose.

Pulling out his cell, he dialed her phone number. She picked up after the fourth ring.

“Hello?”

“Rose? It’s me,” he said, feeling a bit foolish.

There was a silence.

“Hey,” she said, awkward.

“I’m at the ranch. Missy’s in labor, but something’s not right.”

Another silence, then she sighed.

“Hold on, okay? I’ll be right over.”

He thanked her, then hung up.

“You’re gonna be okay, Missy,” he told her. “I’m about to go get some towels for you.”

He had to round up some towels from the main house, and got stuck talking to a tourist. By the time he headed back out to the barn, Rose was just pulling her car in beside his.

She climbed out, her dark hair gleaming in the sunlight. She shouldered her bag, spotting him.

She turned a particular shade of red, he noticed.

“Hey,” he said, nodding toward the barn. “She’s in here.”

Rose’s mouth quirked. He lead her to the barn, where Missy lay. The dog growled at them, but it was less menacing than before.

“She’s tiring pretty quickly,” he said.

Rose nodded, putting her bag down. She knelt by Missy, who growled again.

“No more of that,” Rose crooned. “Let me get a look at you.”

She palpated the cur’s belly, then moved a leg to get a better view.

“Ah,” she said. “I think she just needs a little lubrication. That’ll help the puppies slide right out.”

Rose rooted around in her bag, producing a white tube. She put on a glove, then put some of the clear jelly on her fingers.

He turned, pacing to the door while she did her thing. When he turned around, she was pulling the glove off.

“We should give it like twenty minutes,” she said, standing up. “If she doesn’t start whelping by then, we can worry.”

Missy seemed to know that Rose had done something, because she rolled over and strained. After a second, the puppy’s hind legs were visible.

“See?” Rose said. “No big deal. Let’s go sit outside and give her some privacy.”

They headed outside, sitting on a pair of hay bales.

“Thanks,” he said, looking at her. “I appreciate you hurrying out here to see her, given how we left things the other day.”

She flushed. “I’m… I’m sorry about that. It wasn’t you.”

“So what was it?” he asked, staring at her intently.

Her throat worked as she swallowed. She looked down at her hands in her lap.

“I just… I panicked. I was feeling really good, and then suddenly I was crying. And I sort of flipped my lid because I was really embarrassed that I couldn’t control my emotions.”

She took a breath, then looked up, making eye contact with him. “I am sorry. And I don’t think you should have to put up with that sort of thing, honestly.”

He frowned. “Are you breaking up with me?”

“No! No. I’m just… I don’t know,” she said, looking away. “I’m crazy, you know? No one should have to deal with that.”

He stood up, and moved to touch her shoulder. “Hey.”

She looked up at him, gray eyes shining.

“You a glutton for punishment?” she asked quietly, tears in her eyes.

“If that’s what it takes to get to know the real Rose Elliott, sure.”

Colt was almost sure she was going to cry again, but she just said, “Are you sure?”

“Of course.”

He leaned in for a kiss, pressed his lips to hers. As emotional as the conversation was, he found himself getting hard from a simple touch of her lips.

He chastised himself as they broke the kiss. She blotted at her eyes with her sleeve.

“Don’t say I didn’t try to warn you,” she said.

“I won’t,” he said, giving her a lopsided grin.

She squeezed his hand, then got up. “I’m going to go check on Missy.”

He looked at his watch.

“Have you eaten?”

She paused. “Um, no.”

“All right. You make sure the dog’s okay, and I’ll see if I can’t scare us up something to eat, huh? Meet me right there.”

He pointed to the porch of his bunkhouse apartment. She smiled, pushing back a strand of hair.

“Okay. It’s a deal,” she said, heading into the barn.

He headed toward the main house, planning to rifle through their stock of fresh meat and vegetables.

Apparently he still had a lady friend, and he was damn sure he was going to feed her.