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“No. I have never gotten caught up in a pyramid — never mind. What’s in this generous gesture for you?”

Great. Now he felt like an ass.

Probably because you’re acting like one.

Her eyes brightened with unshed tears. “I wasn’t getting anything. Sometimes it’s nice to be nice just because. People like getting their pictures taken. And then they have a memento to remember the day. And, okay, some of them paid me for the pictures, but?—”

Chance couldn’t hold back. “That’s what I figured.”

She held up her hand. “But! I sent the ones they liked to a lab that will process them, and they’ll be able to pick them up tomorrow at the photo counter at the drug store in Wilder. SinceI had them anyway, I was going to give you a set to use for promotions. That’s all. Everyone is happy. Well, everyone except you.”

That checked with what Tildi had told him earlier. Still, he’d lost a lot of time recently with everything going on. The ranch was in desperate need of maintenance that needed to be done while it was cold. They had to check the fences and put windbreaks and sheds up in the pastures to protect the herds from the wind. Not to mention, make sure they had hay to eat.

This girl wasn’t his responsibility. He had to put his family first, right? The local community church ran a perfectly good shelter for people just like her. It wasn’t like she’d have to sleep in her car and starve.

Right. Just look at her. She’s nothing but trouble waiting to happen.

If she’d chosen the life of a gypsy, she was probably used to it. And if she was new to it, maybe having to stay in the shelter would make her choose to go back home. He had no reason to feel guilty.

So why did he still feel like a complete ass for what he was about to do? There was something about her that called to him. But he was responsible for keeping his family and those living on the ranch safe. Sometimes it wasn’t a fun job, but it was what he had to do.

Before he could tell her that, she asked, “I was hoping, with a lodge this size, you might have a room. Do you have a place where I can stay? Just for a night or two?”

Damn, he hated to have to disappoint her. Why did she have to look so vulnerable and lost?

Because she is, that’s why.

Still, it didn’t change what he had to do. It wouldn’t make looking in the mirror any easier either. “Look, I’m sorry I accused you of trying to con people. I’m sure you’re a fantastic photographer. But you can’t stay here. We aren’t ready for guests. But the Wilder Community Church runs a shelter that’s always open towhoever needs a place to stay. I can drive, and you can follow me, if that would help.”

He lost those incredible eyes then. She stared at her feet. When she spoke, her voice was thick with tears. Damn it.

“No, that’s okay. I just thought I’d ask. I can get directions in town. I, um, thank you for not calling the sheriff. I won’t bother you again. And you should give Bullwinkle an extra apple or something for not stabbing me with his horns.”

He couldn’t think of anything to say to make her feel better. It killed the Daddy in him to watch her head to the kitchen door leading outside. “Wait,” he called. “Wait right there.”

He walked to the coat closet and took out one of Kenzie’s winter coats. He might not be able to let her stay on the ranch, but that didn’t mean he’d let her freeze. The last time he’d checked, it was fifteen degrees outside.

“Here, put this on,” he said, holding the thick coat open so she could slide into it. She was about the same size as Kenzie, so the coat fit well. Holding out his hand, he said, “Hand me your phone.”

She stiffened. “Wh-why?” Suspicion darkened her eyes as her hands went behind her back.

Her reaction had the Daddy in him rising to the forefront. “I wanted to put in my phone number so you’ll have someone to call if there’s a problem. Is there a reason you don’t want to hand it to me?”

“No!” she all but yelled. “I mean, I don’t have a phone.” Her eyes skirted to the side.

For the first time since he’d met her, she lied to him. It was obvious she wasn’t used to lying. She was terrible at it. “Where are you from—” It suddenly occurred to him he didn’t know her name. “What’s your name, gypsy?”

“What?”

“Your name? And do not lie to me. You don’t know me, so I’lllet the whopper you just told me slide. But don’t lie to me again. Do you understand?”

“Um… sorry. I’m Joy.”

“Joy is a pretty name. What’s your last name?”

“Nothing. Just Joy.”

“You don’t have a last name?”