CHAPTER SIX

THE SUN HAD started to slide across the mountaintops, its orange glow diffused by the purple-gray air of evening, the scorching temperatures dropping with it. Heath studied the sun’s gentle fall and the lengthening shadows creeping toward him, thoughts of the formidable Rocky Mountain skyline and the fact that nobody was truly free filling his mind. Perhaps all freedom—physical, emotional, personal—really only came at the cost of somebody or something else.

Out on the range today with Daryl and Jewel, he’d felt free. Yet each sunset brought him closer to setting a wedding date with Kelsey, a decision that’d change his life forever. Whenever his mind turned it over, his thoughts became dark and clouded, full of dead ends and treacherous paths leading him right back to where he’d started.

Jewel rode up beside him. Astride her enormous stallion, her large brown eyes were nearly level with his. “Are we going to check the injured calf again?”

He nodded. “I’ll have the dogs separate it from its mother.”

“Why call them back?” She angled her face and tracked the black-and-white canines circling the grazing herd. “A real rider could separate them in five minutes flat.”

“Five?” he scoffed, though the number was nothing to sneeze at…for Cade standards. But Jewel rode with Lovelands now and the sooner she understood the difference, the quicker she’d lose the giant chip on her shoulder.

“Why?” She squinted at him from beneath her black Stetson. “How fast could you do it?”

“Three.”

Her brows shot up and disappeared beneath her brim. “Liar.”

“I’ve got nothing to prove.” As Heath watched, the sun vanished, and the orange sky began to turn periwinkle blue. “Standards are higher on Loveland Hills.”

She recoiled. “You’re saying Cades have lower standards?”

He shrugged and bit back a grin at the strangled noise escaping her.

“Then I’ll do it two minutes.” She urged Bear forward.

“Wait!” he hollered, but Jewel ignored him and plunged into the milling cattle. Uneasy Brahmans scattered at her approach. He swore under his breath. If one of the large animals spooked the wrong way, she’d be thrown or worse. Adrenaline surged through him, making his muscles twitch.

Nothing for it.

He and Destiny gave chase. Ahead, Jewel circled a rope over her head as she systematically pressured the calf’s mother until the pair broke from the herd, the calf following its parent as expected. Then, with well-practiced ease, she released the loop to fall neatly over the Brahman’s head. Admiration replaced Heath’s irritation as Jewel expertly backed up Bear, tightening the restraint until the panicked cow settled.

“Time?” she called once Heath lassoed the calf, secured the rope to his saddle and hurriedly checked its leg.

“It wasn’t five minutes,” he admitted. The abrasions looked clean as he washed them and applied antibiotic ointment.

“It wasn’t three, either, I’d wager.” Jewel retrieved her rope, coiled it and secured it to her saddle.

“Might have been under,” he muttered from the side of his mouth. “You still disobeyed an order.”

“Range bosses don’t take orders.” She shot him a cocky grin over her shoulder before trotting ahead on Bear. “I’ll get some wood. You start the fire.”

He opened his mouth to remind her he was range boss, but she was already out of earshot. As she trotted away, she held up three fingers, two on one hand and one on the other.

Cades two. Lovelands one.

Irritating, aggravating, infuriating cowgirl.

He rode to a clump of bedrock, tied up Destiny, grabbed a lighter and started a blaze with scrub.

“How’d the wound look?” Jewel approached minutes later with an armload of wood. She dumped it beside the crackling fire he’d coaxed to life inside a stone circle. Nearby, the Brahmans had mostly settled for the night, standing motionless in the field surrounding the spring, their tails flicking at nagging flies. Daryl circled the herd astride his mount. His indistinct calls to the cattle dogs carried on the still, balmy air.

A whiff of woodsmoke curled beneath Heath’s nose. “Dixon’s going to be okay.”

Jewel, crouched beside the fire, leveled him with a wide-eyed look. “Do you name your calves?”

Heath ducked his head. Why had he let that name slip? Something about Jewel’s mix of prickly temper and surprising sensitivity left him rattled and unsteady. Her brash talk and mischievous smile distracted him, made him laugh and kept him off-balance. “They each deserve one, don’t they?” A defensive note entered his voice. “Even if it’s for only a short while.”

A shower of orange-red sparks floated skyward as she dropped a log on the fire, brushed off her pants and rose to join him on the large rock. Beneath the odor of horses and sweat, the faint scent of her soap, fresh and natural as the spring burbling nearby, teased his nose. “I name them, too.”

Heath gaped at Jewel. Rough, tough, take-no-prisoners Jewel named her calves? It didn’t surprise him, somehow. Her hard shell hid a softness he grew more curious to know by the minute.

“Don’t tell my brothers,” she added, fierce. Despite the gathering darkness, he glimpsed red deepening her freckled face.

“I won’t if you promise not to tell mine.”

Her small, calloused hand slipped into his and pumped it up and down. “Deal.”

Heat flared in his gut. Her skin was rough, yet the strong length of her fingers, the shape of her hand, fit perfectly in his, and a fierce longing to hold on to the strange sense of completeness seized him.

“Let go, Neanderthal.” Jewel yanked back, blushing.

Shocked, he opened his hand, and the sudden release sent her sprawling backward into the dirt. He rushed over and gripped her shoulders. “Jewel! Are you all right? Jewel!”

Without warning, she grabbed his shirt collar and twined her leg in his, flinging him away as she rolled. He landed on his back. Hard.

The thick air, now hazy with smoke, muffled her laughter. She bounded to her knees and pressed her palms to his shoulders. “Pinned you!” An enormous grin broke out over her face, and she whooped like a cowboy.

“Wrong!” He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, maneuvered her beneath him and braced his weight on his palms. The brush of her compact, muscular body against his set his heart afire and turned his sinews to stone.

Their breaths quickened, mingling in the small space separating their mouths. The cockiness faded from Jewel’s eyes. In its place, the yearning he’d glimpsed the night of his last gig returned. No one ever looked at him the way Jewel did. Her gaze took in everything about him, inside and out, good and bad; she saw all that, and her rosy lips parted in a slow smile. Heat reddened his ears, colored his throat.

“Are you two eight or twenty-eight?” drawled a voice above them. One side of Daryl’s mouth curled as he peered at them from atop his dapple-gray stallion, Remington.

They scrambled to their feet, careful not to look at each other. “That was nothing.” Heath brushed the grass from his shirt. His breathing had almost returned to normal, though his heart was pumping overtime.

Had he almost kissed Jewel?

“Looked like something.” Daryl patted Remington’s neck when he tossed his head and sidestepped a leaping bullfrog. “Emma acts more mature, and she is eight.”

Heath rubbed his bristled jaw. Daryl had a point. He shouldn’t let Jewel goad him so easily. “Don’t insult Emma, now. Isn’t she turning nine next week?”

“Got a birthday party for her, too.” Daryl’s gaze swerved to Jewel. “You’re invited, of course.”

Her white teeth flashed. “Thank you.”

Heath cast a wary glance at the thickening twilight. “You’d best start back if you’re going to catch a ride into town with Sierra.”

Jewel heaved out a long-suffering sigh. “I’d rather sleep on the range than go to some flower party meeting.”

Daryl held out a flask. “Maybe this’ll take the edge off.”

Jewel downed a swig of whatever Daryl carried. Must be something hard, Heath guessed, given Jewel’s watering eyes and wheezing as she struggled to catch her breath.

“Easy, girl.” Heath clapped Jewel on the back.

“What’s in there?” She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “Lighter fluid?”

Daryl tucked the flask back in his saddle bag. “Moonshine. One hundred percent Rocky Mountain gold. It’ll put hair on your chest.” Daryl cracked a rare smile. Heath eyed him with concern. Ever since he and LeAnne started having troubles, his outgoing brother had grown more somber and withdrawn, the only company he kept his kids. Regardless of his marital issues, he remained a devoted father, though.

“Did you make this?” Jewel gasped.

“Guilty.” Daryl’s deep dimples flashed.

“That should be illegal.” She tore off the kerchief tucked into her T-shirt’s V-neck and fanned herself. The glimpse of damp, creamy skin momentarily mesmerized Heath. She wasn’t freckled everywhere…

“Now that you mention it, I believe it is.” Daryl held Bear’s halter as Jewel hoisted herself in the saddle.

“Does Travis know about ‘Rocky Mountain gold’?” she asked, referring to their brother, the county sheriff. He was the latest in a long line of Loveland lawmen who’d served Carbondale for over a hundred years running.

“I plead the fifth.”

Jewel cracked up laughing at Daryl’s quip. Then, with a wave, she rode off. A pang of longing filled Heath as she grew smaller and smaller before disappearing over a ridge. Did he want Jewel to stay? He should be glad he and Daryl were watching the cattle tonight, yet a sense of loss dogged him.

“You like her.” Daryl ripped the top off a bag of trail mix, shook some into his hand and passed it to Heath.

Heath’s fingers clenched around the plastic. “You’re losing it, dude.”

“Question is,” Daryl continued, pinning Heath with a discerning look, “what are you going to do about it?”

“I’m already spoken for.”

“Are you?”

Pressure built in Heath’s chest. It felt like he was slowly suffocating. Air seeped out of his body, and he couldn’t coax it back in. “About to be.”

“Then how come you can’t quit staring at Jewel?”

A picture of the wisecracking cowgirl, her eyes brewing with mischief whenever they landed on him, her full mouth stretched in a taunting smile, rose in his mind’s eye. “I don’t like her.”

Daryl shook out a bedroll, dropped down on it and laced his fingers behind his head. “Keep telling yourself that, bro. Maybe you’ll even convince yourself.”

“So now you’re giving relationship advice?” Heath laid out his sleeping bag, then leaned back on it, his palms denting the slippery material as he stared up at the emerging stars. Fireflies blinked on and off in the brush.

Daryl laughed, a harsh scraping sound. “Guess I’m the last person you should listen to.”

The naked pain in his brother’s voice filled Heath with regret. “Is everything all right with you and LeAnne?” Daryl was silent so long, Heath slid him a sidelong glance to see if he’d fallen asleep. “You don’t have to tell me.”

“No,” Daryl said gruffly. “It’s a fair question. Haven’t answered it yet myself. Lovelands don’t have the best track record with relationships. Cole went toe up with Katlynn, Pa and Ma…well…you saw how that went. Heck, even Wyatt Loveland lost his Cheyenne wife when she died after childbirth, right after he bought Loveland Hills. Maybe Pa’s broken the Loveland curse with Joy, and you’ll be the next lucky one…if you figure out which gal to give your heart to.” Daryl closed his eyes, and the faint lines around his mouth deepened. “Trust me when I say, choose carefully.”

Heath recalled LeAnne’s older sister, the gal Daryl had dated in college. Everyone had assumed they’d marry until Daryl’s surprise shotgun wedding to LeAnne. The reason he left one sister for the other remained a mystery, but it wasn’t the Loveland way to pry.

“I won’t be choosing Jewel.” Heath stretched out and crossed one boot over the other. The buzz of crickets lulled him into a drowsy state.

Even if he weren’t engaged to Kelsey, Jewel was every kind of wrong for him. He preferred not to ruffle feathers, while the wild child thrived on stirring things up and doing as she pleased. She challenged his authority on the range, second-guessed his decisions or flat-out refused to follow his orders.

Yet working together made it harder to see her as the enemy. He dropped his hat over his face. Despite her freckles, cowlicks and lack of any effort to put on makeup and dress up, Daryl was right. Heath’s eyes strayed her way too often. She was all hard edges and scrawny, not his type at all, but he found himself wanting what he couldn’t—shouldn’t—want.

His irritating attraction had to stop…along with his rising regard for the scrappy, independent cowgirl. There was a lot to like about Jewel Cade.

Too much for comfort.

Uneasiness twisted inside, the restlessness of waiting to see what he wanted…

And what he would do about it.

* * *

“ALL IN FAVOR of tea rose garlands, raise your hands,” directed Mrs. Grover-Woodhouse. At her stern, nasal voice, Jewel’s knees knocked together beneath the Flower Gala planning committee’s conference table. She had a long history with her formidable ex-principal full of after-school detentions where Jewel had learned to write “I will not leave my seat,” “I will not talk in class” or, her favorite, “I will not use my compass as a weapon” a hundred times in under ten minutes.

Jewel tucked work-roughened hands beneath her dusty jeans and strove not to squirm amid the dressed-up ladies. A haze of expensive perfume had her battling a sneeze.

Mrs. Grover-Woodhouse peered over a pair of bifocals at the raised hands. “Those opposed?”

All eyes turned to Jewel.

Her heart sped.

“Miss Cade, are you in opposition to tea rose garlands?”

Jewel gazed at the rainbow of manicures surrounding her, shook her head and dug her ragged nails into her chair seat. She’d die before she’d give them something to mock…or shame her mother for. When she’d arrived at the Lovelands’ ranch house minutes before nine, she’d barely had time to untack Bear and wash her hands and face before hopping in the truck with Sierra.

“She wouldn’t know a tea rose from a teacup,” Lara Tomlin, one of Kelsey Timmons’s sidekicks, whispered behind a raised hand. Kelsey quickly smothered a laugh.

“I know one of ’em breaks when smashed over your head.” Gasps of disapproval greeted Jewel’s growl.

Kelsey widened her eyes. “Are you low on sugar, honey? How about some juice? Sweet tea?”

Jewel ground her teeth. Classic Kelsey. In public, she acted like Carbondale’s sweetheart and dedicated volunteer, but Jewel knew better. Deep down, she only cared about herself, from the top of her expertly highlighted hair to the designer shoes she bragged about buying while on a recent trip to Italy. Looks and money mattered to Kelsey…which meant Heath cared about them, too. Why else would he be with someone so materialistic? If he liked women like Kelsey, he’d never give a cowgirl like her a second glance.

Not that she wanted him to.

“Miss Cade?” prompted Mrs. Grover-Woodhouse with raised, drawn-in eyebrows.

“I’m fine with the garland,” Jewel muttered.

“Thank you.” Mrs. Grover-Woodhouse scratched a check mark next to her list, then raised her head to scan the group. “Let’s open the discussion on beverages.”

Jewel fought off a yawn as a debate raged about punch with sherbet (tacky according to Kelsey’s faction) or a champagne punch (considered sinful by the more stringent churchgoers).

Sierra kicked Jewel under the table, then gave the slightest of eye rolls when Mrs. Berry concluded her “demon liquor” speech by popping a pill—a prescription of course…

Jewel swallowed a laugh. For a Loveland, Sierra wasn’t half bad. They’d sung along to old Shania Twain songs on the drive over with the windows down, the radio cranked, neither caring how awful they sounded until a pickup stopped alongside them at a light. The driver had winced and raised his windows, his horrified expression only making them screech louder.

“Jewel Cade.” Mrs. Grover-Woodhouse tapped her pencil. “We haven’t heard from you on the topic.”

“Me?”

Mrs. Grover-Woodhouse’s pencil stilled. “You are a member of this committee, are you not?”

“Unfortunately,” Lara whispered.

Jewel cleared her throat. “Yes, I am.”

“Which type of beverage do you suggest?”

“I’m more of a Mountain Dew kind of gal.”

Lara and her crew giggled—including Kelsey.

Mrs. Grover-Woodhouse’s withering stare quieted the group. “Soda is not an option.”

Warmth flooded Jewel’s cheeks. “It should be,” she pressed on. “Not everybody likes things so fancy.”

“It’s a gala, after all,” Kelsey chimed in smoothly. “Fancy is the point.”

Lara’s eyes dragged over Jewel’s crumpled T-shirt and jeans. “For civilized folks, anyway.”

Jewel’s gaze circled the group of nodding heads, all save Sierra, who shot her a sympathetic look. With a groan, she shoved her chair back. She was a fish out of water and making a spectacle of herself. “If y’all will excuse me.”

Out in the hall, Jewel fired off an SOS text to her brother Justin begging for a ride. Sierra’s footsteps echoed behind her.

“Wait! Don’t leave.”

“I’m making a fool of myself.” Agreeing with anything Kelsey said stuck in Jewel’s craw, but she had a point. Jewel didn’t belong in the “civilized” feminine world of tea rose garlands and champagne punches. The ranch, range and saddle were the only places where Jewel belonged; stupid her for even trying.

Sierra placed a warm hand on Jewel’s shoulder and squeezed.

“Lara’s the one who’s acting like a jerk.”

“It’s no act,” Jewel said evenly. “She is a jerk.”

Sierra cracked up so hard she snorted, which, in turn, got Jewel laughing until they both held their sides, bent at the waist.

“Ain’t that the truth.” Sierra wiped her streaming eyes. “Don’t tell Heath I said so, since she’s Kelsey’s best friend.”

“Do you think he loves her?” Jewel asked, unable to resist the urge to satisfy her curiosity.

Which was all it was.

Just idle curiosity.

Sierra’s short nose scrunched. “It’s more complicated than that. Heath always puts what he wants and needs aside to take care of everybody else. We used to call Heath the mom whisperer. He was the only one who could soothe her when she got in one of her moods. I think he’s so used to making others happy and playing the role of knight in shining armor that he doesn’t know how to save himself.”

“So, the more Kelsey acts like a princess, the more Heath likes her?” If that was the case, Heath would never care for Jewel since she valued her independence and… Whoa—why was she suddenly worrying about who Heath cared about?

You nearly kissed him on the range earlier…

Sierra shook her head slowly. “The more Heath thinks Kelsey’s depending on him, the more obligated he feels, the harder it is for him to walk away.”

“What could she need him for?” Through the distant doorway, Jewel glimpsed the back of Kelsey’s elaborate upswept hair, pearls dangling from her ears. “She’s got money, looks, one of the most respected names in the county…”

Sierra’s narrow shoulders lifted, then fell. “Some women don’t feel complete without a man on their arm.”

“I’d rather have a horse.”

“I’m rather partial to animals over relationships myself.” Sierra shot Jewel a conspiratorial smile. “Now why weren’t we friends in high school?”

Jewel studied Sierra’s open, friendly face. “Because our families were—are—mortal enemies.”

Sierra half laughed. “Right. Almost forgot about that. Now we’re stepsisters.”

“I’ve never had a sister.” The idea filled her with a strange sense of wonder. She’d only ever had her brothers to compete against and prove herself to…what would it be like to have someone to simply talk to? Confide in? Sing karaoke Shania Twain with?

Sierra squeezed Jewel’s arm. “Same. Just a bunch of annoying brothers.”

They exchanged nods, and a palpable sense of camaraderie swelled the space between them.

“Won’t you come back to the meeting?” Sierra hitched up the slipping strap of her sundress. “I can take you home, but I wish you’d stay. Don’t let Lara and Kelsey’s crew chase you off.”

“They haven’t,” Jewel automatically denied, despite the unease twisting her gut. She never backed down from two-ton bulls, yet judgmental women had her running for the hills. Why? A motorcycle engine rumbled in the distance, then grew louder. “But I texted Justin to pick me up on his way home from Fresh Start. That’s probably him now.”

Sierra’s face fell. “Shoot. Next time, then.”

“Maybe,” Jewel mumbled, then impulsively hugged Sierra before racing outside. The air was fresh and cedar-scented. Her lungs gulped it down as she straddled the bike behind her bearded brother and donned the helmet he passed her.

“Everything all right in there?” Justin twisted around in the banana seat and eyed her. “Looks like you’ve been chewed up, spit out and stepped on.”

“That about covers it. Let’s blow this pop stand.”

“Got it.” The motorcycle sped out of the parking lot and Jewel rested her chin on her brother’s broad shoulder, her hands linked around his middle as they raced home.

“Hey! It’s Aunt Jewel!” Javi pounded down Cade Ranch’s porch steps when they pulled up twenty minutes later. His terry cloth Superman cape, a perfect match for his briefs, flapped behind him.

When he flung himself at Jewel, she staggered back a few steps. “You’re getting big.”

Javi puffed out his skinny chest. “Pa says I’ve already grown half an inch this summer.”

“I bet you have.” Jewel pushed back his damp hair. The scent of the honeysuckle bushes crowding the porch filled the darkness with a heady aroma. “Much more and you’ll be as tall as me.”

Javi’s smile fell and he chewed his lip. “It’s okay to be little. Don’t feel bad, Aunt Jewel.”

Jewel pressed her curving lips flat and said, gravely, “I appreciate that, honey. Where are your parents?”

The screen door creaked opened and Sofia’s pretty face, backlit by the interior light, peered out anxiously. Her features smoothed when she caught sight of Jewel, Javi and Justin mounting the stairs.

“There you are, Javi.” Sofia briskly toweled Javi’s hair as she steered him inside. “You know better than to go outside after your bath.”

Javi wriggled as Sofia swiped his ears with Q-tips. “I heard Uncle Justin’s bike and look—here’s Aunt Jewel, too.”

“Hey, girl.” Jewel took in Sofia’s thin frame and pale face. She’d lost weight since Jewel had last seen her. “You feeling okay?”

Sofia dropped onto the sofa once she’d sent Javi upstairs to don his pajamas. “The first trimester’s always the hardest.”

James appeared on the landing overlooking the two-story living room. Their wailing four-month-old baby, swathed in pink fabric nearly matching her tear-streaked face, flailed in his arms. “Jesse’s not following the bedtime schedule.”

“Just show her the clock. She’s sure to go to sleep then,” Justin drawled, his voice dripping with his usual dark sarcasm.

Jewel shot Justin an amused look. James, the second oldest in their family, was a total control freak. He ran his life, and everyone else’s, on a tight schedule even Grand Central Terminal would envy.

“Pa?” Javi peeked his head out of his bedroom door. “I dropped my juice, and my blanket’s all red.”

Sofia began to rise, but Jewel forestalled her. “I’ll get Jesse. James, you take care of Javi.”

James met Jewel halfway down the stairs, passed over the fussing child and shot her a grateful look. “Good to have you back. You’ve been missed.”

“Yeah, right,” she scoffed, hiding her pleasure at the rare brotherly affection. Did he miss her enough to name her range boss yet?

Sofia reached for Jesse, but Jewel plunked down on the floor with the baby instead. “Take a break. This is what aunties are for.”

She stripped layer after layer of pink from the squirming child until she wore only her diaper. Jewel confirmed it was dry after a quick check. Once she laid Jesse on a blanket, Jewel blew into the baby’s belly while Justin dangled his Harley-Davidson key ring over her head. Jesse’s cries subsided into hiccups, then silence, then coos of merriment.

“Thank you!” Sofia dashed away tears. “I don’t know why I’m so emotional this pregnancy.”

“You just gave birth to this one.” Jewel crossed her eyes and stuck out her tongue at Jesse, winning her a gummy smile. “Don’t beat yourself up. I wish I were here to help you more.”

“You just want to beat me out as range boss, admit it.” Justin quit playing with the baby, sauntered to the sofa and sat, stretching out his long legs.

“I am beating you.” Jewel covered her face with her hands then opened them, playing peekaboo to Jesse’s delight. “I’m working miracles over at Loveland Hills.”

“Ma mentioned you saved the herd from sorghum poisoning.” Justin shook his head. “You’d think Heath would have more sense than to lead them south during a drought.”

“They don’t have many options,” Jewel said, strangely defensive of Heath. “It’s not like they can get to the Crystal River easy.”

“And whose fault is that?” Justin demanded. “Not ours.”

Jewel shrugged, her stomach knotting. Her brother spoke the truth, but riding with the Lovelands blurred lines a bit.

“You’re not taking their side, are you?” James clomped down the stairs with Javi. “I warned you about Heath trying to charm you into feeling sorry for them.”

“Simmer down, James,” protested Sofia. “There’s nothing wrong with seeing both sides.”

“I’m going to Emma’s birthday party!” Javi, now clad in a superhero-patterned pajama shirt and bottoms, raced into the kitchen. “They’re having a princess cake!”

“Remember your loyalties, Jewel.” James slipped a pacifier into Jesse’s mouth. “And what happened to her nightgown?”

“That wasn’t a nightgown, it was a pink straitjacket.” She tickled Jesse’s rounded tummy. “Look how much happier she is naked.”

James slid Jesse’s chubby arms into a onesie. “Don’t corrupt my daughter.”

“Don’t turn her into some pampered girlie girl, either.” Jewel frowned at her brother, thinking of Kelsey’s well-heeled group and how out of place they’d made Jewel feel.

Where would she ever fit in?

Her eyes drifted to the darkness beyond the window panes, picturing the pastures she’d ridden from childhood. As Cade Ranch’s range boss, she’d always have a place where she belonged, where she didn’t feel less than others.

“This is Emma’s birthday invitation!” Javi dropped a purple card onto Jewel’s lap. “Will you be there?”

“Your mother and I haven’t decided if you’re going yet, Javi.” James slid his fingers into Jesse’s waving fist.

Javi’s left-sided dimple vanished. “Emma’s my friend.”

Justin picked up the TV remote and turned on a Rockies game. “Our families are having a dispute.”

“What’s a dispute?” Javi asked.

Sofia patted the empty cushion beside her. “An argument.”

Javi flung himself into it. “Then use your words so you stop fighting.”

“It’s not that—” the crack of a bat and the roar of the crowd at the baseball field interrupted James “—easy.”

Javi leaped up, scooted in front of the TV and blocked the view. “Yes, it is! Emma’s my cousin now and Grandma Joy said family always sticks together.”

Cades always stick together.” Justin craned his neck to glimpse the action accompanying another cheer.

“Grandma Joy’s a Loveland,” Javi pointed out with powerful child’s logic. “Will you still stick by her?”

An appalled silence descended, muffling all but the baseball announcer’s babble. Sofia rose slowly to her feet and slipped her hand in Javi’s. “We’ll talk more about it tomorrow. Say good-night to your family.”

Javi scampered up the stairs, stopped on the landing and cupped his hands around his mouth. “Night, Lovelands!” he shouted at the windows then dashed into his room.

“I’ll be darned.” Justin dropped his elbows to his knees and craned his head to peer up at the empty banister. “Javi’s one strong-headed Cade.”

“He’s made up his mind, all right.” James slipped the pacifier from his now-dozing baby’s mouth.

“You should let him go.” Jewel ruffled the floor rug’s fringe with the tip of her boot.

“It’ll only encourage his crazy idea about us being close with the Lovelands.” James brushed a finger over Jesse’s rounded cheek. “They’re the ones suing us for millions we can’t afford.”

“We could sell Cora’s Tear.”

James gaped at her. “Who gave you that stupid idea?”

“I can guess,” Justin muttered through clenched teeth.

Jewel met her brothers’ hard stares dead-on. “Heath mentioned it.”

At James’s bitter laugh, Jesse’s eyes flew open. He lifted her to his shoulder and patted her back. “Of course he did.”

“It’s not like that,” Jewel insisted, cringing inside at how naive she sounded. “Whether you accept it or not, we’re a family—the most dysfunctional, messed-up one in the county, maybe even the state, but we are family now.”

James’s brows lowered. Just then, the porch door opened and two of their cousins, Hayden and Graham, sauntered inside, doffing their hats. They were tall, lean young cowboys with red cheeks and cropped brown hair. “We’ve got the cattle settled for the night, James. What’d you like us to do next?”

“Best ask your range boss.” James nodded at Justin.

Jewel bristled as Justin conferred with the boys about tomorrow’s drive. “He’s not officially the range boss.”

James laid Jesse back on the blanket and swaddled her. “Not yet. Best remember your loyalties, or I’ll make it permanent.”

Her heart momentarily stopped, then resumed a frenetic beat. “Is that a threat?”

James’s dark eyes rose and lasered into hers. “Let’s just say, for now, it’s a friendly reminder.”

And one she’d needed to remember, Jewel thought, as she drove back to the Loveland ranch in a borrowed pickup, or she’d lose everything she’d worked her whole life to achieve.

If she failed to become range boss, who was she?

Not her own person. Not someone people looked up to.

She’d be no one important.

Just like her father raised her to believe.

From now on, no more letting Heath get under her skin or sweet-talk her. She’d focus solely on the job: keeping the Loveland herd intact.

As for her heart, she needed to guard it, too, lest a sensitive singing cowboy turn her from the path she’d chosen.