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R hae glanced at the clock on her desk. Almost her infant daughter Navy’s naptime.

The morning had been slow, a rarity around here. The veteran therapy and recovery program was situated on a busy, working ranch in the mountains of Wyoming. Nothing ever slowed down here…until her office door closed and one of the vets she worked with took a seat.

No one ever made an appointment, but somehow, it all worked. When she was hired, she never planned to make her door a revolving one, but the on-demand therapy seemed to be working.

There was no conflict, no chaos. Just a steady beat to life like the hum of the wind over the fields of the Black Heart Ranch where the program was situated.

The main building was a sprawling log structure with thick timber beams and floor-to-ceiling windows. It boasted all the modern amenities anybody could ask for even as it offered down-home charm.

A wide front porch stretched across the front with rocking chairs and thick wool blankets folded neatly over the backs. At most times of the day, Rhae could look out and see a vet or two out there, staring out at the cattle grazing in the nearby field or listening to a ball game on the radio.

Her young daughter enjoyed being outdoors as much as the men, and Rhae took her out every chance she could.

Through the window beside her desk, she could see a few guys tossing hay bales onto a flatbed truck. As part of their therapy, they could pitch in as much or as little as they liked. No pressure around the Black Heart was one of her favorite things about living here too.

The men moved in sync, their movements practiced and efficient. Therapy didn’t always look like talking.

Sometimes it was mending fences, running cattle or just standing at the fence rail while the sun sank behind the mountains.

Navy’s coo broke the silence, and Rhae smiled.

Her daughter was nestled in the playpen beside her desk, chubby fists wrapped around a stuffed lion that had seen better days.

Rhae pushed away from her desk and walked over, scooping the little girl into her arms. Navy squealed with delight, her tiny hands reaching for Rhae’s necklace.

“Almost time for your nap, sweet pea,” Rhae whispered, brushing a short sprig of hair away from Navy’s forehead.

A shadow moved in front of the doorway.

She smiled and glanced at the clock, even though she already knew what time it was. Like clockwork, every day, Kyle showed up. It was one of the only routines that held steady around her office.

Rhae turned, spotting the former Marine in the doorway. His hair was messy, probably from wrestling with the horses earlier, and his T-shirt sporting the Black Heart Ranch logo was dusty.

She smiled. “Hi, Kyle. You’re early.”

“Miss Rhae.” He dipped his head in greeting. “Figured I was in the area. Thought I’d help.” He stepped into the office, no invitation necessary. His boots thumped lightly on the gleaming wood floors as he crossed the room, arms already reaching out to take the baby.

Navy spotted him and leaned forward, chubby legs kicking in excitement.

Kyle was hardened to steel, and over the past year he’d spent on the ranch, the sun had etched weathered lines around his eyes to mix with the lines of strain he received in battle. But he’d been here long enough that he was part of the ranch, just as solid and safe.

She passed Navy into his arms, and he tucked the child close, smiling down at her. One of Navy’s hands splatted on his bearded cheek, and he chuckled.

“She doesn’t look very tired.” He moved to the long sofa to sit, positioning Navy in his lap, cradling her like she was much more fragile than she was.

Navy gurgled, tiny hands patting at his chest. Kyle chuckled, grabbing the bottle already set out in the warmer on the desk. He gave it a quick, practiced shake, tested it on his wrist, then offered it to Navy.

She latched on immediately, her eyes already drifting closed even as she sucked contentedly.

Rhae glided to the armchair opposite the sofa and sat down with a smile.

Kyle eyed her. “She wore you out already?” His big hand spread over Navy’s small back, and the baby’s soft sucking noises filled the room with a quiet comfort.

“It was a slow morning. I think Navy was as bored as I was.”

He tipped his head back, eyes fixed on the ceiling as if counting the wooden beams. “Slow’s good. Means everyone’s…managing.”

Managing. It wasn’t healing. It wasn’t whole. But it was something. A step. She’d take it.

“What did you work on this morning?” Her question got him talking about things she’d heard plenty of times before— mucking out stalls, feeding cattle and finally, inspecting ditches that carried runoff water from the mountain to ensure the fields weren’t flooded.

Navy gave a contented sigh, and Kyle chuckled. “I think she’s out.”

“Of course she is. I swear you’ve got magic hands.”

Suddenly, a loud, metallic clang rattled the window. Rhae froze, her gaze shooting to her daughter sleeping in the big Marine’s lap, then darted to Kyle’s face.

He was staring into space, expression harder than it had been when looking down at the baby.

Deep down, Rhae knew Kyle would never harm her child, but the first few months on the ranch, she had concerns about the men around Navy. Soon, she realized her fears were unfounded. Not one of the men in the program would harm a fine brown hair on Navy’s head.

The farm equipment outside clanked again.

Rhae picked up her notepad and pen and wrote some notes about Kyle’s behavior to add to his file.

The man had heavy trauma and an official diagnosis of PTSD.

Loud noises were triggers, but he was far more relaxed than she’d ever seen him after a noise set him on edge.

He gently ran his fingers over Navy’s back. “You know, I’m an uncle.”

She tilted her head. “You never told me that.”

He nodded. “I missed out on this stage. By the time I got off the street and…reconnected with my family… Well, when you can’t even play with your nephew, then it’s time to admit you may need some extra support.”

“It took a lot of strength to reach out for that support. You should be proud that you took that step.”

“I tried the VA first.”

Kyle’s injuries weren’t visible. He had all his limbs, but he was still broken in ways that she could help with.

“They gave me drugs,” he went on. “I took them for a while before I realized I didn’t want to walk around in a haze.

The Black Heart is a much better place for me.

” He suddenly met her gaze directly, something he didn’t always do or hold it for very long.

His glance drifted back down to Navy in his lap, her lips pursed around the bottle nipple, giving an occasional suck in her sleep.

“And I get to hang out with two pretty ladies. The best medicine ever.”

Navy’s body went totally slack in sleep. Kyle’s lips quirked at one corner. “My work here is done.”

Rhae knew the drill. She glided to her feet and moved over to take the baby from the vet. She offered him a kind smile of gratitude for putting her child down for her nap so easily.

As soon as she scooped the baby out of his arms, he stood, tugging the brim of the cowboy hat he wore. “I’ll be back tomorrow, Miss Rhae.”

She faced him, the baby curled up in her arms. “We’ll be here.”

His boot steps faded down the hall. When she eased Navy into her playpen for her nap, she heard a new step at the door. Straightening, she saw a woman standing there.

The tall woman could be a model for her beauty and poise. And the wide smile on her face was so genuine that Rhae couldn’t help but smile in return.

Willow Malone co-owned and ran the Black Heart Ranch with her brothers. Over the past months since Rhae came to work on the ranch, she’d come to think of Willow as a friend.

She paused in the doorway and looked down at her dusty boots. “I don’t want to track in any hay. We just finished loading the truck.”

“I saw.”

She glanced at the baby asleep in the playpen. “I thought you might like some lunch.”

Her stomach rumbled at the thought of food. She’d gotten a late start this morning and didn’t get a chance to grab breakfast from the dining hall.

“I’d love some lunch. Let me just grab the baby monitor.” She walked quietly to her desk and switched on the monitor that would broadcast every noise the baby made while she stepped out for a few minutes.

They each filled trays with soup and sandwiches. Willow picked up a dish of homemade chocolate pudding. “You need to try this. It’s Faye’s recipe.”

Faye was a fixture around the ranch. She seemed like she wasn’t quite an employee, not quite family.

While Rhae wasn’t sure of what to make of her, she knew one thing—every time she heard the words “Faye’s recipe,” she knew it was food she couldn’t turn down.

But her hips were warning her to step away from the pudding.

“I think I’ll have the fruit cup instead.”

“Suit yourself.” Willow placed two dishes of pudding on her tray.

She slanted a smile at her friend. She was undeniably beautiful, but completely genuine. She was too sweet to dislike, even for her metabolism.

“You work your calories off on the ranch. My job is sedentary,” she reminded Willow as they walked out onto the patio and took a seat at one of the tables.

Willow sat with a sigh.

“That sounds like a sigh of relief. Anything you want to talk about?”

Willow’s gray eyes centered on her. “Do you ever stop being a therapist?”

She gave her a small smile of apology. “Sorry. It’s ingrained in me to pick up on everyone’s mood and body language.”

Willow bypassed the soup and went straight for the pudding. “I needed to get out of the house. There’s a lot of testosterone.”

“Ah. Security business?” Besides the veterans’ program and the cattle ranch, the Malones also ran a security business. They all proved to be very good at security, considering they were all ex-military.

Her stomach gave a little dip, and she found herself looking at Willow’s gray eyes a little too long.