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lived half my life without you, Megan. I’m not about to let a crazy asshole like Donny hurt my little sister. Now go rest while I spoil my niece.”
    # # #
    “You did the right thing.” The old man put his empty scotch glass down on the end table, his long legs stretched out before the fire. “I’ve got no tolerance for a man who hurts women or children. Every man on this planet owes his life to a woman. I hope they catch the bastard and hang him by his nuts.”
    Jack West had never been one to mince words. A lifelong rancher and Vietnam veteran, he was unflinchingly honest and took shit from no one. That was one of many reasons Nate respected his father.
    “I invited Megan to bring her little girl, Emily, to the ranch to see the horses. The kid loves horses.”
    One gray eyebrow arched.
    “What?” Nate’s eyes narrowed.
    “Sounds like there might be something going on here.”
    “Nothing’s going on. That’s wishful thinking.”
    For the past six months, his father had been pushing him to get out and meet women, but Nate didn’t want to put himself on the meat market. He wasn’t ready for that yet.
    “You don’t so much as mention a woman for two years. Then you save this young lady’s life, drive her wallet to her house so you can deliver it in person, and invite her to bring her child to the ranch. Sounds like something’s going on.”
    “Get your hearing checked.”
    Irritated, Nate got up, walked to the fireplace, and jabbed at the embers, tossing a few more big pieces of hardwood on the blaze. There was nothing going on between him and Megan Hunter. Yes, there was something special about her, something that had caught his eye, something that had made him look forward to seeing her at the shelter. What he’d seen tonight—her love for her daughter, her concern for him—had deepened his attraction. But he hadn’t rushed in to help her because he wanted to get involved with her. He’d have done the same thing if she’d been a blue-haired old lady. Besides, inviting her to bring her four-year-old to the ranch to look at horses wasn’t exactly asking her out on a date.
    And what about the part where she touched you through sterile gloves and you turned into mush? Remember that part?
    So he had some pent-up testosterone. So what? Any man who’d spent almost four years fucking nothing but his own fist would.
    He walked back to the couch, sank into the leather cushions, and reached for his scotch, taking a deep drink.
    “Sooner or later, son, you’re going to have to put Rachel behind you and take a chance again. You’re a young man, and you’re going to want more in your life than this ranch and horses—a wife, a couple of kids.”
    “Dad, stop. I don’t want to talk about it.”
    “You never want to talk about it.”
    “Mom has been gone for five years now.” She’d died suddenly of an aneurysm while Nate had been downrange in Afghanistan. He’d gotten a call from his father in the middle of the night and had managed to get emergency leave to return to Colorado for her funeral. His father had seemed to age a decade that day. “Would you like to talk about why you’re not out meeting women?”
    The old man glared at him. “That’s different. Your mother and I were married for the better part of forty years. We had a life together. We had the ranch. We had you. Rachel was just your fiancée. You never even lived together.”
    “This doesn’t have a damn thing to do with Rachel.”
    That same eyebrow arched. “Doesn’t it?”
    For a moment, neither of them spoke.
    Stubbornness was a quality they both had—in spades.
    “What did you say her brother’s name was?”
    “Marc Hunter. Marc with a ‘c.’ He’s with Denver SWAT.”
    “Marc Hunter.” The old man frowned. “Why does that name sound so familiar?”
    Nate shrugged. “No clue.”
    His father drained the last of his scotch, then got to his feet. “I’m putting these old bones to bed. Morning comes early. We’ll be