“Really?” she asked. “I never noticed that.”

  “You aren’t Zeke and Rod. They live with that flock. They’ve had to rescue youngsters who tried to leap barbed wire.”

  Grace sat up a little straighter. “That’s hard to believe.”

  “Feeling their oats, I guess. Their wool is growing in and they get caught easier. Zeke said the ewes are forever trying to round them up, but this group is really adventurous. He says they aren’t moving with the flock, the way sheep usually do. He and Rod are getting frustrated. I got the word again that they need a dog. Sure sounds like it. You can’t run fast enough to keep up with that crowd.”

  “Amazing. I never guessed.”

  “Neither did I, and I’ve been watching over that group for a little more than a year now. I get them enjoying running around, burning off all that youthful energy. Kinda like puppies. But trying to jump fences?” Mitch shook his head in disbelief. “I wonder if a goat or two got in there during mating season. Although I have no idea where a goat could have come from.”

  “Me, neither. I always wanted goats, but we couldn’t because they need special fencing so they can’t get out. Plus the cost of supplements was just too high. Maybe we should have just put up the fence anyway.”

  Mitch flashed a grin. “I’m thinking they’ll settle down. I hope they will. And I’ve still got to look into a herding dog or two. I talked to Ransom Laird and he has some puppies who are being trained by his older dogs, but it’ll be a little while yet before they’re ready.”

  Grace nodded. “Didn’t you use to have some dogs?”

  “I still do. Out on the range. Mainly they keep wolves and other predators away. Never trained them for sheep.”

  “Was there ever a wolf problem here?” She’d never heard anything about it.

  “Not in my lifetime. Some ranchers closer to Yellowstone claim to see them once in a while. Frankly, wolves aren’t overpopulating the place. More trouble from coyotes, especially with spring lambs.”

  “That was our experience, too.” She hesitated, gnawing her lower lip. “Mitch?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I’ve been trying not to think about it, but why would somebody burn down my barn? Or maybe more important, who would want to? I honestly can’t quite believe it was the industrial farming company. They must have better ways of taking over land.”

  He nodded slowly. “I can’t get it off my mind, either. I also can’t figure it. Unless some firebug just wanted a big blaze.”

  Grace didn’t like that idea at all. The randomness of that disturbed her deeply. Maybe because she needed a reason for most everything. “Coming so soon after that ewe was shot only bothers me more.”

  “Me, too,” he admitted.

  Grace was glad he didn’t dismiss her worries. Much as she’d been trying not to build a massive case of anxiety, the anxiety remained anyway.

  She closed her eyes briefly, remembering that night, the impossibly high flames, the screaming horses. She shuddered. “I’m going to have some bad dreams for a while.”

  “Understandable.” He’d brought the inevitable cup of coffee in with him, and reached for it now, taking a couple of swigs. “It feels like beating my head on an invisible brick wall. I want answers. Seems like I’m not going to get any soon.”

  “I hate that,” she admitted.

  “You ain’t the only one.” He paused. “I’ve got all my men keeping an eye out for anything suspicious. I’m not ready to move on as if this is nothing but chance.”

  “I don’t think I can.”

  His gray eyes met hers. “Grace, understand that I’ll do anything to protect you.”

  The words caused her breath to catch in her throat, followed by the burn of unshed tears. His concern wrapped around her, answering an ache she hadn’t even realized was there.

  She looked away, swallowing hard. His statement had opened something inside her. It had been a long time since she’d felt such honest concern. Maybe Mitch had been offering it all along and she hadn’t been paying attention.

  Why would she? Grief had consumed her. Her entire life had become one of fighting to save what she could of her dream, leaving no room for anything else. She’d been obstinate and blind in her determination to stand alone, feeling she owed it to John.

  Words couldn’t convey the unexpected, hungry need that roiled inside her. How much had she missed having someone give a damn about her feelings and her needs? These moments told her that while she was mostly introverted, she still needed something more in her life.

  Mitch’s kindness reached beyond an ordinary friendship. He was offering something a whole lot bigger.

  “Thank you,” she answered, her voice thick.

  “Hey,” he said quietly. “I didn’t mean to make you sad.”

  “You didn’t.” She turned her face back to him. “You...just made me feel special.”

  He smiled slightly. “Good. Because you’re one hell of special woman. Stubborn as hell, but still special.”

  That drew a choked laugh from her. “I was just thinking about my stubbornness.”

  “I hope we’ve gotten you a little past that. The new barn and all.”

  “And taking care of me here.”

  He feigned astonishment. “I value my skin. Lila would have taken a piece of my hide if I’d done any less.”

  He’d lightened the moment, for which she was grateful. She seemed to be losing her balance somehow. Falling off the tightrope of emotion she’d been walking for so long.

  Maybe she ought to excuse herself. The barn, her injuries, her steady but slow recovery, the mess all this had made of her usual life... Plenty of reason to feel shaky emotionally.

  It wasn’t just that. Who would have guessed that emerging from long stasis could feel so painful? Far from feeling as if she were coming out of a long nightmare, she felt as if her protective layer was being stripped away. It hurt.

  “Ah,” Mitch sighed. A few moments later he rose. “More coffee? Mine’s cold. Or something stronger?”

  “Coffee, please.” She wasn’t sure how alcohol would mesh with the pain pill she’d taken two hours ago. Because her dang hands had started to seriously hurt again. As if the bandages were irritating them now.

  She rested her head back against the chair while he went to the kitchen, trying to quash the feeling that he’d just offered her a gift she wanted badly to accept. All he’d said was that he’d do anything to protect her.

  Simple words, a strong promise, leaving her exposed like a raw nerve ending. Worse, she now had to face the gaping holes she’d dug in her own life. Not just missing John, but burying herself alive.

  Damn, she couldn’t deal with this right now. No way. Bad enough that she was wondering who had hung this sword over her head and what might be coming her way.

  Because deep inside, she didn’t believe the barn was the end of it.

  * * *

  “You guys gotta do better,” the boss told them over the phone they’d put on speaker. “I don’t see any sign of the Hall woman hightailing it.”

  “She ain’t home,” Carl argued. “She’s living with that Cantrell guy now, and she ain’t showing any sign of going home.”

  “Damn Cantrell,” the boss said. “Damn him to hell. Why is he getting involved?”

  Neither Carl nor Larry had an answer for that.

  The boss nearly snarled. “You gotta scare her more. Figure it out. But not too soon. Too soon and we blow it. Just remember, if she doesn’t leave, you don’t get paid the rest.”

  Both Larry and Carl were aware of the money that she’d dangled before them. A small down payment to be followed by an appreciable sum when their job was complete. But damn, this was taking an awful long time. Who’d have thought some damn woman could be this stupid. Or this stubborn.

  It wasn’t at all the way that Larry and Carl thought of gals.

  * * *

  As the evening deepened, Grace circled around once again to her fears. Or maybe concerns. She’d rather not think she was afraid.

  “Someone had to have done it,” she said yet again. The uneasiness wouldn’t back off.

  “The fire, you mean? Well, yeah.”

  She nearly sighed. “And the ewe. You know what I’m talking about. They could be linked.”

  “I know.”

  He didn’t dismiss her worry and she was thankful. Over the years, being a woman, she’d been dismissed many times, especially when something bothered her. As if her feelings didn’t count.

  She spoke again. “I keep thinking of that industrial operation. I can’t get it out of my head, even though I also can’t quite believe it. Great way to get me to sell and leave you their only problem.”

  He nodded slowly. “I’ve been thinking about them, too. Doesn’t make sense to me, but they keep popping up. Thing is, I’ve been too busy worrying about you lately to do what I should have.”

  Her heart quickened a bit. “What’s that?”

  “Call the sheriff and tell him I’ve got this suspicion. If anyone can find out if that company has left a trail of fires or anything else shady in their wake, the sheriff’s office can.”

  “I hope so. I wouldn’t know where to begin. You don’t have to worry yourself over me.”

  He spoke firmly. “Someone has to.”

  Again that rending inside of her, opening like a door closed too long. Squeaky and creaky as it pulled away from its frame on unoiled hinges.

  She cleared her throat. “Thanks for not thinking I’m being silly.”

  “Why in the hell would I do that? The ewe incident might have been one jerk being stupid beyond belief. But the barn? One plus one equals two. Or three, depending on how you count on your fingers.”

  That made her laugh again. “Thanks.”

  * * *

  Mitch was enjoying having her in his house, and definitely enjoying how she was laughing more. The sound had been absent from her for so long. Her face lit up and she became more than pretty. She became beautiful. Sometimes he just wanted to feast his eyes on her but resisted the urge. He didn’t want to make her uncomfortable.

  Why would she suspect that he might find her silly for her worries? Even had he not agreed with her, he never would have thought that. There was nothing about Grace that anyone could call silly.

  He wished he could heal her hands with a magic wand. It hurt him to see her bandaged like that and to know that when the bandages came off her hands would be painfully tender. It might be a while before she could do simple things, like hold something heavy, or endure her palms rubbing on anything. And forget hot water.

  He focused instead on the courage that had led her into a burning barn to save the horses. Amazing woman.

  Thinking about that night led him to say, “I’ve got some free time in the morning. Want to see Dolly and Daisy? They’re out in the far paddock.”

  “I’d love to see them!”

  He smiled. “Then we’ll drive over to see your new barn. You can also decide if you want it painted.”

  She laughed again. “I take it no red?”

  “Only if you want to become a local landmark.”

  Her grin widened. “I think I already am, given that there aren’t too many newly constructed barns out there.”

  “Eighth wonder of the world. You’ll be attracting tourists before you know it. Crowds will come from all over the county, rarely having seen a brand-new wood barn.”

  The idea clearly amused her.

  “How are your hands feeling?” he asked.

  She waved one at him. “Painful. I’m sure sick of the bandages.”

  “I can imagine. Consider them to be protective gloves.”

  She frowned a little. “I hate to think what it’s going to be like when they get unwrapped for good. I’ve had burns before.”

  “Yeah. Well, since I don’t have a magic wand, how about you stay here for a bit? You’re not going to manage well on your own for a few weeks.” Then he added, “I’m still astonished that you ran into that barn.”

  “I couldn’t do anything else.” Her expression turned sober. “Mitch, it would have been awful to let those horses burn. I couldn’t do it. I’m sure you’d have done the same thing.”

  “Maybe. I’ve never had to. Probably a reason I’m not a fireman.”

  She shook her head. “Quit being so modest.”

  At least she didn’t pursue that. He doubted he could have stood the embarrassment.

  Needing to change the subject, he asked, “Wanna watch some TV?”

  She dropped her somber mood and her face relaxed. “Hey, aren’t you the guy who said he didn’t care for it? The guy who said he couldn’t find the remote?”

  He pointed to the table beside her. “I think Lila found it when she was cleaning.”

  “Does she find everything for you?”

  “More than I’d like sometimes. Seriously, it was up on the mantel. I’ve got little use for it.”

  “You, the guy with the huge satellite dish out back.”

  He laughed. “Blame my dad. Man, he wanted those sports shows come the weekend. That thing is a dinosaur.”

  “Bet it picks up radio signals from distant galaxies.”

  “I’ve never checked, but maybe I should donate it to the Smithsonian.”

  “Or to some observatory,” she teased.

  God, it was good to see her spirits this high. Tread carefully, he warned himself. Don’t say anything that might sadden her again.

  He knew that she was always tipping toward grief. Always. That was another thing that made him wish for a magic wand. With John she had been happy most of the time. He could understand why John’s death had gutted her. Eventually, though, everyone had to move on.

  Grief would always be with her, but it didn’t have to smother her. It didn’t have to penetrate her every day and control her. But how did you make someone see that?

  Only Grace could do that. When the time for her was right.

  Later she dozed off. Clearly still recovering from her harrowing experience and her burns. He found a throw and gently draped it over her. His mother had crocheted that throw, one of the good memories about the brief time he’d had with her. She’d died from breast cancer when he was six, but he could still remember her sitting in her rocking chair and working that crochet needle all evening while talking to him and his dad.

  He walked quietly to the kitchen to grab a beer, then came back to the living room to stand at the front window. It had never been covered with curtains because this far out, the likelihood of anyone traipsing here to peer in was minuscule.

  Next, he grabbed a few of his journals and magazines from his office and settled in to read.

  Oh, yeah, he thought. The dogs. A couple more months, Ransom Laird had said. By then autumn would be creeping in with winter hard on its tail. The sheep would be heading to their fold as the cold winds began to blow. The shepherds had a small house for protection and warmth as they continued their duties. And the dogs? He’d have to ask about that.

  This sheep thing was still very new to him. He was grateful for a couple of guys from Portugal whose knowledge appeared to be bottomless. Best investment he could have made.

  Mitch almost laughed at himself as he sipped his beer. Those guys allowed him to look confident whenever he was asked about the venture. But mainly they prevented him from doing something stupid that might harm the sheep.

  Then there was Grace, whose pretty head probably held a wealth of knowledge about sheep. He should have asked her but didn’t want to jar her into unhappy memories.

  He turned to look over at her as she slept. He wouldn’t mind that view for a long time to come. Then he forced his attention back to his reading material.

  Chapter 11

  In the morning, Grace was eager to take the drive Mitch had promised.

  Well, of course, Mitch thought. She must be awfully tired of the inside of his house and walks around the outside of it. His front yard wasn’t much of a yard, rather a scrubby patch that hadn’t been good enough to graze.

  Out back were the barely discernible remains of his mother’s kitchen garden, once always brimming with vegetables throughout the growing season, followed later by endless days of canning and freezing. Now it had become a weed patch through which could be seen the vestiges of once-neat rows.

  One of his favorite memories was of the end of the growing season when she’d say, “Get out back and eat some of them tomatoes, boy. Can’t can ’em all.”

  Nothing, he believed, could quite measure up to a warm, sun-kissed tomato right off the vine. He ate himself sick. Then it was over, cold weather moving in again.

  He recalled the year when she let him choose any vegetable he wanted to grow, and how astonished she’d been when he’d picked radishes.

  What had sent him down this particular path of memory?

  Over scrambled eggs and bacon, he watched Grace chat with Lila about inconsequential matters. He enjoyed her animation, her hands gesturing as she spoke. He hadn’t seen her like this since his last visit before John died.

  He wished the mood would last.

  A short time later, she got into his pickup truck with him and they set out on their minor adventure. “We’ll go see Dolly and Daisy when we get back.”

  “Okay.”

  He suspected she was about ready to bounce on her seat.

  After twenty minutes or so, her barn emerged from behind the rolling land.

  “Oh man,” she said quietly as she took it in. “Oh man.”

  He unbuckled her seat belt, then leaned across her to open the door. As soon as she could slip out of the truck, she hurried toward the barn.