Jax didn’t want to help.

This place, this farm, this family had too many needs. He could handle any one of them and maintain his distance, but to face all three?

That would call to the protector in him, a side he’d buried when he’d lost four good men to an accident that should never have happened.

He needed to walk away. They’d get by, one way or another. Folks always did.

But when Libby drew the little girl in, laughing about the wind, and shrugging off the blown-down barn as if it was no big deal, he realized he had no choice.

He tugged his faded army cap into place. “I’m going to let this wind ride itself out, then I’ll be back.”

Libby frowned. “What? Why?”

“To help.” He brushed one finger to the brim of his hat. “I’ll be here first thing in the morning.” He turned, not waiting for permission that might not come.