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“I’m going to…” She didn’t like to lie to her kid, but she wasn’t about to tell him what she was really up to. “I wanted to check on some horse stuff before Becca and I have our meeting. You head on inside.”

“If the guys are there, I want to—”

Gabe was approaching, and Monica’s temper was at a rare boiling point she barely even recognized. “Go inside and stay there.”

Colin frowned up at her. “Why?”

“Because I am your mother and I said so. If you’re not up on that porch in five seconds, you will deeply regret it.”

Colin complained, loudly, but he also scurried toward the house. It gave Monica minimum satisfaction that he did.

“Morning,” Gabe greeted as he approached. He tipped his hat and offered one of his meaningless, charming grins.

“Is there some place private and warm we could talk?” she asked through gritted teeth.

His eyebrows lifted, but he didn’t question her. He gestured toward the bunkhouse. “That do?”

She nodded sharply and started marching toward it. It hadn’t snowed again last night, but the subzero temperatures had made what snow there was slick and hard. Every time her boots crunched through it, she felt a little more righteously furious.

This man,this manin particular, had been the cause of her child’s nightmares. She ignored the tiny little voice in her head that reminded her Alex and Jack had been there too, and she’d probably be able to handle her temper a little better around men who were her patients.

She was protecting her baby. Her life. Anger and fury wereright, and certainly Gabe the big, strong Navy SEAL who thought he wassosmart and that her child should wield an ax and help with removing a dead cow could handle a little of her very fair anger.

She pushed into the bunkhouse, Gabe following at a much more leisurely pace. He affected thatdon’t care about anythingattitude, and nothing could have riled her more, because if Gabe was going to be taking Colin places and encouraging him to do things, then he needed to care so deeply it hurt. Hurt just like this.

Slowly, Gabe closed the door, then leaned against it. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“What the hell is wrong with you?”

He rubbed a hand over his jaw as if contemplating it. “Depends on who you ask, I suppose. I happen to think I’m quite the prize.”

“Colin is ten years old. Axes and saws were one thing, but disposing of a dead animal?”

All that easy, fake charm melted off his face until only the bitterness was left. It felt like a triumph to get under his mask.

“It’s ranch work. He’s part of a ranch now.”

“He’sten. Helping you guys means riding in the UTV and petting horses, maybe shoveling some poop or helping to mend a fence. It does not mean you get to force him to face death. He has had to face that enough.”

“Yeah, so have we all. But it’s a part of life.”

“I amwellaware how much a part of life.”

“Then I don’t know why you’re up my ass. Because he was the one who spotted the dead cow, and he had the option to help or not. He chose to help, because he’s not afraid to stand up and do what he should.”

“What he should? Were you clearing out dead animals when you were his age?”

There was a heavy beat of silence where he gave her one of those looks she’d learned from her time in therapy never led anywhere good. Unexpected, awful.

Then he blinked, and it was gone. “So, what? Keep my distance? Never even look in your kid’s direction?”

It deflated her, because it was the second time he’d made this gigantic jump to what she hadn’t even considered. “Why do you always assume the worst?”

“I don’t know, maybe it’s all the being screeched at in private.”

“I am not screeching,” she said. “But I am about to be violent.”

His mouth curved at that. “Try me, sweetheart.”