Made in Texas!

A flutter winged around Donna’s chest, and she rolled her eyes, thinking that would stop it.

It didn’t.

“As if you’d know what Caleb was doing the first time he saw me, Tammy,” Donna said. “He was there when you fell and ate it in the dream cabin that day, and you were no doubt hurting too much to dwell on what he was thinking about me. He just didn’t leave an impression on me because all I cared about was getting you some medical help.”

Tammy and Jenna laughed again, and Donna inwardly cringed. They had to be thinking about how clueless she was sometimes, how mired she tended to get in the bigger picture, whether it was Tammy’s injury or all the projects they had going on the Flying B. But that’s how it had always been with her, because work shut everything else out.

Divorce, death… Work was far more comfortable. And so were goals, like having her own successful magazine and a bright-lights-big-city life again.

Of course, goals could change. Before she’d come to the ranch, she’d never thought about forging a better relationship with the sister she’d been so distanced from her whole life, seeing as Jenna didn’t seem to have much in common with Donna when they were young and their dad had raised them to be single-minded women who went after what they wanted, no matter the cost. She’d never thought about getting close to the cousins she’d never known, either.

But losing Grandpa Tex just when he’d come into her life had shown Donna, once again, that you had to tread lightly with others, that getting close was still a chancy proposition that she was just now dipping her toes into.

Not too deeply, though.

Never too deeply.

After Tammy and Jenna had laughed it up quite thoroughly, Tammy said, “I hear that most girls do remember Caleb. Really well.”

Jenna added, “I hear there’re more than a few of them, too.”

“Who knows how many there’ve been since he’s been off the Flying B?” Tammy gave Donna a sly glance. “He took a leave of absence for some family matters—something about helping his father and aunt move to Buckshot Hills and get settled.”

“J.D. took his job in the stables for a while,” Jenna said.

At least Donna had been paying enough attention to know that Jenna had met J.D. when he’d been wandering the Flying B Road to the ranch. He had lost his memory, and Jenna had helped nurse him back to health along with Doc, until J.D. had regained his senses.

Jenna was waggling her eyebrows. “But now Caleb’s back—and this time it looks like Donna actually had time to notice.”

Tammy cracked up again as Donna sighed in exasperation. Maybe she had noticed, but it didn’t matter. Not when she had a million things to do today.

And definitely not when she wasn’t planning to stay around the Flying B for much longer, anyway.

AFTER LEAVING THE main house, it hadn’t taken Caleb long to hitch a ride at the barn with old Hugh in his Dodge.

They rambled along on the dirt road leading out to the east boundary of the ranch, where they were going to mend fences today. Before they’d hopped into the truck, Hugh, the foreman, had introduced Caleb to J.D., the man who’d taken Caleb’s place during his leave of absence.

“He’s been a real find,” Hugh said now, “but we missed you, boy. Nothing’s been the same without you around.”

“Same here, boss.”

Caleb rested his bare forearm on the windowsill as the truck grumbled along, passing the fields that yawned under a sky that reminded him of Donna Byrd’s eyes. He’d been thinking about her since the day he’d met her. Or not met her, to be more exact. She’d been a little… distracted might be a good word, but, then again, it’d been a trying day for the Byrds after Tammy’s tumble and fall, then her visit to the doctor. So how could he blame Donna for being preoccupied?

Still, Caleb was used to making more of an impression on women, and Donna’s cool attitude puzzled him. It also lit a fire in him that he’d never felt before, because good times had always come so easy.

And that was something Donna Byrd was obviously not. Easy.

She was sophisticated, dignified and more beautiful than anyone he’d ever set eyes on. There was something else about her, though, that got to Caleb. A depth. A sort of sadness that he’d caught a few months ago as well as today, and she only seemed to show it when she thought no one was looking, covering it up before a person could be sure.

Yet that was another challenge about Donna Byrd—seeing if he could make that hint of darkness go away.

And, Lord knew, Caleb knew about a little darkness.

“I missed the Flying B more than you know,” Caleb said.

“You didn’t exactly take a vacation.”

“Right.” Caleb turned to Hugh. “Have you ever spent any amount of time off the ranch? You never seem to take a break from it.”

“No reason to.” The old man pursed his lips. “I grew up here, just like you, and this is where I prefer to be above anywhere else.”

“Then you’d have the same reaction to the suburbs as I did. Buckshot Hills is still country, but some of it’s developing. I moved my dad and Aunt Rosemary into a new place—Yellow Rose Estates, they call it.”

“Sounds uppity.”

“It’s modest. A bunch of tract houses that all look the same. But it’s safe and close enough for me to visit when I need to.”

They hit a rut in the road, and the truck creaked on its springs.

“How is the old man doing?” Hugh asked.

Caleb shrugged, and that was enough of an answer. Some days with his dad’s worsening dementia were good, some weren’t so much. Mostly they weren’t, though, and Caleb had endured a lot of those days this past month or so, as he’d finalized the purchase of a new home for Aunt Rosemary and his dad and moved them from her former house near Dallas.

He could just see his aunt now, as they set up his dad’s room with his sleep apnea equipment and the walker he refused to use as much as he should.

“We’re so grateful for everything you’re doing, Caleb.” Rosemary had seemed so tiny, sitting on the bed in a pair of sweats, her hair gray and thinner than it had ever been. But she had smiled as she talked, her cheeks soft and rosy, as she’d glanced around her new home.

Ten years older than Dad, Rosemary had always been a maternal figure for him since they’d lost their parents early on, sticking with each other through thick and thin. She’d insisted on taking care of him now, too, especially since Dad’s dander rose whenever Caleb was around.

Yup, Caleb knew that Aunt Rosemary was grateful. Not so much Dad, though.

“It’s the least I can do,” he’d said to her.

They hadn’t talked about how he and his dad hadn’t ever been good buddies or how he had always refused any of Caleb’s help, even back when he’d been in his right mind. An only child, Caleb had been too much of a “party boy,” in Dad’s estimation; although, as Caleb had matured, he’d always lived up to every vow he’d made and every responsibility he’d had. But that had happened only after Mom had died, shortly after Caleb had graduated from the local high school and he’d left home, finding work at the Flying B, where he’d pretty much been raised the rest of the way to adulthood by Tex Byrd and the ranch hands.

It seemed as if Hugh had sensed the direction of Caleb’s thoughts.

“You know you’ve got family here, Caleb. You always have and you always will. You were like Tex’s own son.”

Tex. Even the sound of his name made Caleb’s chest hurt.

“Hey,” Hugh said. “I know what you’re thinkin’, and it isn’t right.”

“What?”

“That you weren’t around when Tex passed on. It wasn’t your fault that he lied to you about just how sick the doc said he was when he told you to go on and see to your own dad’s needs. He would’ve been fit to be tied if you’d stayed with him and refused to see to your father.”

That much was true. Tex had been adamant about Caleb making up with Dad, no doubt because the family rift with the Byrds had gone on for so long and Tex regretted that he’d missed out on being a part of his own children’s—and grandchildren’s—lives.