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He let go of her arm the minute he knew who she was. Awkward. “Sorry,” she said.

“No problem.” He picked up the sack and handed it to her.

“Thanks. You look good. How are you doing?”

“Okay.”

She was getting used to Nate looking remote and inaccessible. His famous grin was nowhere in sight. No surprise since he wasn’t likely to grin at her anytime in the next, say, century.

“You?” he asked belatedly.

“Great,” she said, lying like a champ.

“Good. Well, see ya.”

Thoroughly depressed she watched him go. Nate might not be a cowboy, but he filled out a pair of jeans as well or better than any cowboy she knew.

Why had she thought it was a good idea to break up with him?

Jaclyn had asked her and several other people to lunch and sent Damaris to pick up food from Booze’s. She thought it was kind of weird but honestly she’d been glad for a break. Until she’d seen Nate and stewed about him all the way home. So when she walked into the farmhouse kitchen she wasn’t in the best of moods. “Food’s here,” she shouted, setting everything on the island in the middle.

Jaclyn, her other sisters-in-law, Chantel and Ella, and her friend Hazel all came into the kitchen. There was a variety of food, from sandwiches to salads. Damaris made sure to grab her roast beef sandwich before someone else took it. Then she got some iced tea from the pitcher in the refrigerator. It took the women a while to sort out who got what but once they did they each grabbed their container of food and a drink and took them to the big kitchen table.

They ate for a bit without much conversation. Finally, Damaris put down her sandwich and asked, “Okay, Jaclyn. What’s this about?”

Her friend glanced toward Hazel, who shrugged. “It’s an intervention.”

Damaris frowned. No one in this group had a drug or alcohol problem. So what could… “No. Tell me you’re not—”

“You got it,” Ella—Chase’s wife and the ranch manager—said cheerfully. “We’re here for you.”

“Me? I don’t have a drug or alcohol problem. Or gambling or anything else that would require an intervention.”

“Oh, Damaris.” Chantel shook her head pityingly.

She turned to Hazel. “Are you a part of this bullshit?”

“Oh, honey, it was my idea.”

“What?” she screeched.

Hazel pointed her fork at Damaris. “I’m sick to death of seeing you moping around all because you’re too damn stubborn to admit you’re wrong.”

“Me too,” Jaclyn said. “You can’t let your past ruin your future any longer.”

“Too true,” Ella said. “I’ve been there and done that. When you find a guy who’s the one—”

“He’s not ‘the one,’” Damaris said. “At this point we’re not even friends.”

“Which is why we staged this intervention,” Chantel said. “You’re in love with Nate. Why can’t you admit it and make up with him?”

“Why? Because it was all a pretense. Which every one of you knows now.” Once she’d told Jaclyn the truth, she’d said she didn’t care if she told the rest of the family. Which she had. Hazel was the only one who had already known, but Damaris had told her it was no longer a secret. And this is what she got for telling them, who were all convinced she and Nate belonged together. An intervention!

“It may have started out that way, but it’s been clear for some time that you two are in love with each other. Why, Nate’s been crazy about you as long as I’ve known him,” Chantel said.

“Did Nate want to break up?” Ella asked.

“No,” she answered grudgingly. “He told me he loved me and that he had almost since we met, years ago.”