Chapter One

Mackenzie Wilder didn’t want to kill her brother in the true sense, just in the what-were-you-thinking, cartoon-wringing-of-the-neck sense. He’d gone and hired someone to help run the guest ranch for the summer—which meant the person would be completely involved in every aspect of her professional life—without asking for her input.

Had Luc talked to Emma before hiring this person? Not that it mattered. Their sister’s head was so in-the-clouds in love right now that she’d say yes to anything and not even know what she was responding to.

Mackenzie bounded down the lodge steps, the screen door giving a loud whine and snap behind her. One of the new college-aged girls on staff for the summer was heading inside.

“Hey, Bea, have you seen Luc?”

“Earlier this morning he was in his office.” Her face went dreamy, eyebrows bobbing. “He had some man candy with him, too.” Great. Her brother had hired some young buckaroo who would have all of the female staff members sighing, swooning and requiring fainting couches all summer.

Maybe a what-were-you-thinking slug was in order.

“I just checked there, so now I’m headed to the barn. If you run into him, would you let him know I’m looking for him?”

If the man would just pick up his phone or respond to the texts she’d sent, Mackenzie wouldn’t be on this scavenger hunt.

“Sure.” Bea’s short raven hair shifted with her perky nod.

“Thanks.” Mackenzie’s boots crunched across the parched asparagus-colored grass, the short walk doing nothing to calm her frustration. When she stepped inside the barn, it took her a minute to adjust to the lack of light. She heard her brother before she saw him and followed his voice. He was talking to Boone, one of the new staff members—almost all of them could be labeled that this summer. And the timing for the turnover couldn’t be worse.

Usually they had at least a few veteran staff return for the summer. Ones who could lead and train the more transitional summer help. But this year, everyone seasoned had moved on to greener pastures. Which was why she and Luc had hoped to hire someone to work with them—or at least closely under their direction. Especially with Luc and his wife, Cate, expecting twin girls in July.

Luc finished his conversation, and Boone headed outside. Mackenzie waited for him to be out of hearing range before she laid into Luc.

“Tell me your hey-I-hired-someone text that I missed earlier this morning was a joke.”

Luc scrubbed a hand through his short light brown hair, a grimace taking over his face. She was two inches taller than him, but he had her in brawn. Tall and straight, with muscles and barely existent curves, Mackenzie had accepted her body—or lack thereof—long ago.

“Nope. Not a joke. You know how much we need someone. And when I came across the right person yesterday, I snagged him.” His hands went up like he was placating a skittish horse. “I know you’re mad. Or I assume you are, but please trust me on this. Summer is completely stressing me out with the twins coming. We have no idea what that will look like, and I need to be available for them, for Cate.”

“I get all of that.” Mackenzie’s rigid body kicked down a notch. “And of course we planned to hire someone, but I didn’t think you’d go and do it without me.”

“It just...happened.” Luc leaned back against the workbench. “You know how hard it’s been to find someone who’s the right fit. And now summer season is here. We should have hired this person weeks ago. So, when I found a match, I jumped on it. I wasn’t trying to overstep. I just—” his arms shot up in a helpless gesture “—feel better knowing we’ve got extra enforcements. Another lead. Someone who can handle the shooting range and staff and guests.”

And how do you know this person can do all of those things? Do they have any experience?

But Mackenzie knew experience itself was overrated. What mattered was leadership and customer-service skills. If someone could handle a horse and interact well with staff and guests, they could be trained.

She slid her tongue between her teeth to trap it. To keep from continuing her tirade. Luc normally didn’t pull stunts like this. But the babies had him all twitterpated. She could probably extend some grace. This time. And if Luc liked this new guy, she probably would, too. They thought alike. Had that twin connection that tethered her to him.

“Okay.” She tried to get okay with her okay. “So, who is it?”

“Me.” That voice.

It came from behind her, and she whirled to face it. Him. Jace Hawke. He stood just inside the open barn door, holding a saddle, sunshine outlining his silhouette like he was some sort of gift from above.

What? Impossible. Luc would never have hired her high school boyfriend. The ex who had turned her heart from mushy soft to solid boulder.

With his cowboy hat on, Mackenzie couldn’t tell if she was still taller than Jace by a quarter of an inch. Yes—they’d measured back when they’d been young and in love. Before he’d trampled her to smithereens.

She straightened her shoulders, wanting to use every advantage when it came to him. Wishing she were a giant and she could squash him like a bug, then flick him out of the barn.

“Kenzie Rae.” He nodded in greeting. As if they were old friends, without a mountain range of hurt between them.

He’d always called her that. Like he’d trademarked it. Owned it. Owned her, really.

And he’d always had an irritating drawl.

Well, in high school it hadn’t been irritating. Back then it had curled into her, deep and warm and mesmerizing. She’d been starry-eyed over him. For two and a half years they’d dated. And he’d taken off, leaving her a note? A stupid, worthless note.

Emma’s fiancé was always surprising her with notes, and she thought it was romantic. The girl went all swoony over the gesture. But not Mackenzie. Notes were cop-outs. Used when someone didn’t have the guts to say something to your face.

Jace’s jeans and boots and blue button-up shirt fitted him like a softened ball glove, outlining all of those I-left-you-to-go-ride-bulls muscles he’d accumulated over the years. And the same quiet confidence oozed from him.

The kind that destroyed everything in its wake. That told lies and then turned tail and ran.

“I’ll store my saddle. Give you two a minute.” He spoke to Luc, eyes toggling back to her before he strode toward the saddle room.

To store his saddle.

Because he was planning to stick around. Because Luc had hired him.

Seriously? Was she smack dab in the middle of a nightmare? Mackenzie slammed her eyelids closed. He’s not here. He’s not here. I’m having a bad dream. I just need to wake up and then... She peeked just as Jace disappeared through the saddle-room door. He’ll still be here.

“You’re playing me, right?” She held her brother’s gaze. Glued herself there until he gave an answer as to why he’d do this to her.

His mouth was slightly ajar, as if he’d just been declared at fault in a deadly accident. “I didn’t know it was like that. I didn’t realize... I thought the two of you ended on good terms.”

Because that was the story she’d spun the summer after graduation. Jace had left town to chase his dream and ride bulls...and she’d been all for it.

That had been so much easier to say than the truth: he left me a note and took off. He never said goodbye. He destroyed me.

Those weren’t phrases Mackenzie let into her vocabulary. Ever. And she’d worked incredibly hard to not let anyone—especially her twin—know how much Jace’s leaving had hurt her.

Turns out her efforts had worked.

“I ran into Jace in town last night, and we got to talking. He’s good with animals and people. He knows cattle roping, team penning, steer wrestling. He can teach the other wranglers some new competitions. The guests would love it. I thought he’d be a perfect fit.” Luc’s shoulder lift said, I’m sorry and I didn’t know, all rolled into one pathetic package that tugged on her sympathies.

Oh, Luc.

She understood why he’d hired Jace without talking to her first: the desperation he felt with twins on the way during their busiest time of year. But what was Jace even doing in town?

Why wasn’t he off riding bulls? He couldn’t need money, could he? Rodeoing would pay him far more than they ever could. And she’d followed enough of his career to know he’d been successful. Up until about three years ago, when she’d decided she couldn’t handle it anymore and had to cut him loose. To not know what was going on with him. How he was faring. Not that Mackenzie ever planned to admit any of that.

Luc groaned. “I practically begged him to help us out for the summer.”

Which translated in Luc-speak to “How can I go back on that? I can’t unhire him.”

Ugh. Her brother was her soft spot. Her best friend. And he was destroying her right now.

“When were you planning to share all of this with me? After he’d been working here for two weeks?” Mackenzie detested the tremor lacing her questions, even if it was so slight, Luc probably didn’t catch it. She didn’t do shaky. Or nervous.

She did strong and unbreakable.

Except when it came to Jace Hawke.

“I called you twice last night and you didn’t answer.”

She’d fallen asleep on the couch. As usual.

“So then I sent you a text this morning.”

“I was on a phone call.” Their white-water rafting supplier had raised prices on this year’s equipment without letting them know. She’d been negotiating for the sake of their business. You’re welcome.

Jace cleared his throat, announcing his arrival as he exited the saddle room. Of course it hadn’t taken him that long to store his saddle. He’d been giving them space. But the man couldn’t stay in there forever, and that was how long it would take for Mackenzie and Luc to work this out.

Jace crossed to stand next to Luc. Like the two of them were a team in gym class Mackenzie wasn’t invited to play on. He wrenched his hat from his head in a contrite gesture she didn’t believe for a millisecond, sending honey-brown hair loping across his forehead.

“Luc.” Bea popped her head into the barn. “Ruby took a tumble and scraped up her leg. She’s screaming for you or Cate.”

“Coming.” Luc strode toward the exit, slowing as he passed her. “We’ll talk more,” he said for her ears only. “Just...behave yourself. Please.”

Well. If he wanted results like that, he shouldn’t leave her with the enemy.

But then again, he’d hired the enemy.


Whoo-ee. The amount of loathing streaming from Mackenzie was enough to heat the town of Westbend in the dead of winter.

Jace hadn’t forgotten what a powerful force the woman was, but over time the memory of her had softened. He’d remembered all of the good. Had clung to it. But there was nothing muted about the live and in-person version of Kenzie Rae. She practically vibrated with intensity.

Looked like she hadn’t forgiven and forgotten with time. Hadn’t decided that him up and leaving town was no big deal. Bygones. All in the past.

But then, she didn’t understand why he’d done it. And knowing her, she’d rather kick him in the shin than listen to any explanation he had to offer.

“What are you doing here?” The woman could sure make her voice hiss and spit fire when she put her mind to it.

Jace definitely preferred being on Mackenzie’s good side. A position he’d ruefully given up seven years ago.

“Working. When I ran into Luc last night, he told me what you guys need for help and asked if I’d consider it.” Taking a job at Wilder Ranch was better than being worthless while his body healed enough for him to go back to riding bulls.

Jace had messed up so many parts of himself over the years that he couldn’t remember what all had been broken or crushed. But this time had been the worst. He’d bruised his spleen and his ribs. Gotten pounded so badly in the head that he was currently rocking the concussion to top all concussions.

But none of that would have kept him from the sport he loved.

A broken riding arm had cinched his demise. His temporary demise.

Her eyes narrowed. “Why aren’t you off riding bulls?”

He rolled up his shirtsleeve to give Kenzie a better view of his cast. Eight weeks casted and then some rehab. Maybe more, the doctor had said. Maybe less, Jace had thought.

Was that a flash of sympathy from Mackenzie? Maybe even concern? The whole thing passed so quickly, Jace couldn’t be sure.

“I suppose I didn’t notice your cast earlier because of the dark red haze of anger and annoyance at your very presence clouding my vision.”

Jace laughed. He couldn’t help it. She might hate him, but he didn’t reciprocate the feeling.

“I’ve no doubt you’ve been injured before. Why’d you come home this time?”

“My mom’s not doing well.” Her emphysema had worsened over the last few months, but she was still working two jobs. Taking medicine and pretending that the disease wasn’t killing her. The woman wouldn’t slow down. Jace could appreciate that, but he also hoped to convince her to give herself at least the chance for more time.

But he wouldn’t have taken a break from bull riding just for that. He wasn’t sure what that said about him. The injuries had forced him out. For now. And not one part of him wanted to admit to Mackenzie that his body was falling apart on his watch.

“I...” Her gaze softened. “I’m sorry to hear that about your mom.”

“Thanks.” The woman might be mad enough to breathe fire, but she was still concerned about his mother. Jace appreciated that.

“You know what I’m really asking.” Her words clipped out—bitter, heavy and dripping with suppressed frustration. “Why are you here?” Translation: “Why are you at Wilder Ranch? My ranch.”

Because I have to work. Jace couldn’t handle inactivity. Laziness. Ever since he’d been fifteen and made a decision he was still paying for. He refused to sit around this summer, while he healed... And no one else was going to offer him a job that would interest him in the least for such a short amount of time. Plus Wilder Ranch—and Mackenzie’s family—had been a haven for him during the worst time in his life. If this place needed him, Jace couldn’t say no to that.

Even if Mackenzie wanted to drop a sledgehammer on his bare feet and then shove him across red-hot embers.

“Why not here?” His trite answer earned a flood of silent responses. First anger. So much that her cheeks turned a distracting shade of pink. The pop of color highlighted her striking features, rocking him like a gale-force wind. But before he could deal with his unwelcome surge of attraction, her look changed to resignation, then hurt. The last one didn’t stick around long, but it was enough to whop him in the chest. To make his heart hiccup.

Jace had never wanted to hurt Mackenzie. Not in a million years. He’d tried talking to her about his plans. He had talked to her. She just hadn’t listened.

Leaving her had been the hardest thing he’d ever done. He’d hated it. Had even hated himself after.

It had been about so much more than the two of them. It had been about his brother, Evan, who’d lost the chance to chase his dreams because of a stupid, lazy choice Jace had made.

So Jace had done it for him. He’d had to. There really hadn’t been a choice.

But it was seven years too late for explanations, and Mackenzie would crush them under her boot if he offered any up.

“You can’t do this job with a broken arm.” Her chin jutted in challenge.

“Exactly what can’t I do?”

“Ride a horse.”

He chuckled at that silly idea, and she stiffened so quickly that he was shocked steam didn’t shoot out of her ears. Jace really wasn’t trying to provoke her, but the idea of a fractured arm keeping him from riding a horse when he still had one good one was ridiculous.

“My arm won’t prevent me from doing this job, and you know it.”

A strangled argh came from her. Sweet mercy, she was mesmerizing when she was angry. All alive and mad and sparking.

“Jace.” His name on her lips shot a strange thrill through him. “Please don’t do this.” Gone was the burning fire. Now she was deflated. Edged with sharp steel—the deadly stab-you-through-the-heart kind. “I get that Luc thinks we need you. And yes, we need someone. But I need it not to be you.”

She packed a lot of punch into her spiel. And the fact that she’d shown him any kind of emotion—that she was practically pleading with him not to stay... Jace would like to grant her that wish. He really would.

But he couldn’t. Because he needed this ranch. And this place needed him back.

It would be the perfect situation if so much hadn’t gone wrong between him and Mackenzie.

“I’m sorry. But I can’t.”

“Can’t? Or won’t?” Her arms crossed over her Wilder Ranch–logoed shirt, forming a protective barrier, and a scowl marred her steal-his-oxygen features. Man, she was gorgeous. Tall, long and strong, with petite curves. Jeans that hugged her. Worn boots. She was—had always been—a walking ad for all things casual and country and mind-numbing. She hardly ever wore makeup. Didn’t need it. And her wild dark blond hair had most certainly air-dried into those relaxed waves, because she would never take the time to blow-dry it or spend more than five minutes in front of a mirror.

And yet she could take down most of the guys Jace knew with just one piercing glance from those gray eyes of hers. They weren’t blue. That was too simple of a description. They were storm-cloud eyes, so striking and unusual he’d yet to find another pair that had rendered him as helpless as hers did.

“Won’t.” She was already upset with him. He might as well fuel it. At least that would keep him from thinking she’d ever forgive him for leaving. From thinking that there could ever be a second chance between them.

Not that he wanted one. Because once Jace got the all clear to go back to rodeoing—despite the doctor’s recent warning that he shouldn’t be doing anything of the sort—he’d be long gone again.