“We know that. We’re sorry for accusing you of bein’ some kind of user when we both know better,” Abe said. “If you make Celia happy…that’s all we care about.”

“Marriage to me has tamed her wild ways. She’s the most docile, eager-to-please ranch wife you’ve ever met,” Kyle said, trying to lighten the mood.

She lightly punched him in the gut. “Jerk.”

Kyle laughed. “Not tamed, but still so damn easy to tease.”

Abe looked at Celia. “Are we good, then? Because if you wanna talk some more…”

“No. I’m ready to put this behind us,” she said.

“Good. Now, Kyle…” Hank started.

Please don’t ruin this by going all big brother again.

“What the f**k? Marshall Townsend was your father?”

Celia exhaled a sigh of relief.

“Yeah. DNA verified and everything.” Kyle told the story for the millionth time and Celia tuned out the words, listening to the smooth, soothing cadence of Kyle’s voice. Letting the constant stroking of his thumb on her hand lull her into a happy place where this would all work out.

Was that what she wanted? To live this life with Kyle for real?

Yes. Because it became more real every day they were together.

“Right, Celia?”

She focused on Kyle. “Sorry. I was thinking about something else.”

“I said I couldn’t do this without you.”

Yeah. She definitely wanted this man all to herself. “Aw, listen to you tryin’ to sweet-talk me when I’m already a sure thing.”

Kyle gave her a smacking kiss. “Maybe I’ll play hard to get tonight.”

Celia snorted. “Like that ever happens.”

Hank and Abe gawked at them like they’d morphed into alien life-forms.

Kyle flipped the lights on and said to Hank, “As long as you’re here, can you tell me what the hell some of this equipment is?”

They walked forward, leaving Abe and Celia to catch up.

“So, Daddy Abe, tell me all about Tyler.”

Abe grinned and whipped out his wallet. “I brought you a picture.” He passed it over. “He’s perfect. Got a full set of lungs, I tell you what. He’s fussy, except when he’s nursing. But I can’t blame the kid—buried in Janie’s br**sts is a damn fine place to be.”

Celia smacked him on the arm. “Janie let me hold him at the hospital.” She looked at the dark-haired infant in the picture. She honestly didn’t understand why parents showed pictures like this—the red-faced, openmouthed baby resembled an alien. A pissed-off alien.

“She told me you visited. Sorry I missed you, but I am awful glad you went.”

“I won’t hold an innocent baby responsible for his daddy bein’ a total jackass.”

“Good to know. So how are things goin’?”

“Busy. We cleaned a lot of shit piles out of the house. Marshall had been a widower a long time. Getting back into the swing of daily chores and dealing with all the stuff that goes along with raising cattle has been an adjustment for both of us.”

Abe leaned close enough to look into Celia’s eyes. “But you’re happy?”

“Yeah, Abe. I really am. I’ve never been happier.” She felt Kyle’s gaze and she looked at him to see a puzzled expression on his face.

“We’ve brought a couple of boxes we’ve been saving for you,” Abe said.

She fought a groan. She had hoped she’d dealt with her last box for a while. “What’s in them?”

“Some of Mom’s stuff. I forgot we set it aside for you and I found it when I was in the attic last week.”

“Now you’ve got me curious. Let’s go get it.”

They left the barn. Kyle and Hank followed.

Kyle carried the three boxes into the guest bedroom before he took Hank and Abe for a tour of the ranch.

She fixed herself a cup of tea and surveyed the guest bedroom. They’d kept the wrought-iron bed and antique dresser. Like the other two bedrooms, this one had beautiful wood floors. She had the fleeting thought that it would make a good nursery.

That’d come out of left field. Must be her brother’s fault—after all, he was covered in new-baby pheromones.

Celia opened the first box. The scent of home drifted out. How could a box shoved in a dusty attic for years retain that scent? She focused on the contents. Her toys. Ready to be done with childish things, she’d shoved them in a box a month after her parents had died.

Her baby doll, with shiny brown plastic hair and those creepy doll eyes fringed by fake eyelashes stared back at her. It was in perfect condition. As much as she’d thought she wanted a doll, she’d gotten bored with it within a week.

She’d preferred to play with her stables set. With its twenty varieties of horses, pieces of white plastic fencing, a show ring, a barn, and stables. She picked up the three tiny barrels Hank had given her, so her plastic rider could be a real barrel racer.

Easy to forget all the good times she’d had with her brothers when the last few years had been so difficult. They’d raised her the best they could, practically being kids themselves when saddled with the responsibility of an eleven-year-old girl. Even when all three of them fought like crazy, she’d never questioned their love for her. And she’d never admitted to them or anyone else that she barely remembered their father taking the time to teach her or just hang out with her. He hadn’t shown much of an interest in his only daughter. Not like Hank and Abe had. Even before they had no choice.