Kierce had been hired by your grandparents regularly, for repairs and renovations. He wasn’t technically a ranch hand, but he spent enough time there that his truck beside the barn was nothing unusual.

Neither brother had ever met you. Doris talked about you, though — you hadn’t been down to visit your grandparents in years, not deliberately, and every promise of I’ll come down soon had somehow turned into another month passing — and apparently she had forgotten to mention you might randomly turn up one afternoon.

You were looking forward to surprising them.

What you didn’t know was how much had changed.

He had been up a ladder against the barn since six, and he heard the gate before he heard the engine.

You park and barely make it around your car before a deep voice stops you.

“Hold it right there.”

Kierce looked up.

Rufe was already halfway across the yard, his expression hard beneath his hat, his eyes sweeping over you before suspiciously shifting toward your car.

He came out of the partly renovated barn, wiping his hands on a filthy rag. You had turned. You had no idea who his brother was. Rufe clearly had no idea who you were.

“This is private property,” Rufe said, stopping several feet away. “You miss the signs at the gate?”

“I know.”

His expression tightened. “Then you wanna explain why you’re here?”

Kierce let his curious gaze move between the two of them. She wasn’t scared, which was the first interesting thing that had happened all week.

“Last chance, sweetheart. Who are you, and what business do you have on this ranch?”

You stared at Rufe.

Then the farmhouse door opened. Doris stepped onto the porch, and the instant she saw you, her face lit up.

Kierce understood the whole afternoon in about two seconds, and decided not to warn his brother.

A slow smile pulled at your lips.