A Brand-new life.

Former army sergeant Shane Brand is struggling to find a new normal. And his lovely new landlady sure is giving Shane a reason to strive for change. If Shane can overcome his inner demons, he may be worthy of Rebecca’s trust. Now it’s his new mission to be the man the single mom deserves, in time to give them all a dose of Christmas joy.

JOANNA SIMS is proud to pen contemporary romance for Mills & Boon True Love. Joanna’s series, The Brands of Montana, features hardworking characters with hometown values. You are cordially invited to join the Brands of Montana as they wrangle their own happily-ever-afters. And, as always, Joanna welcomes you to visit her at her website, joannasimsromance.com.

Also by Joanna Sims

The Brands of Montana

High Country Cowgirl

A Bride for Liam Brand

A Wedding to Remember

Thankful for You

Meet Me at the Chapel

High Country Baby

High Country Christmas

A Match Made in Montana

Marry Me, Mackenzie!

The One He’s Been Looking For

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk

The Sergeant’s Christmas Mission

Joanna Sims

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-1-474-07839-9

THE SERGEANT’S CHRISTMAS MISSION

© 2018 Joanna Sims

Published in Great Britain 2018

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a “Licensed Device”) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.

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www.millsandboon.co.uk

Version: 2020-03-02

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Dedicated to Tia and Alex…

Thank you for blessing our family

with my great-nephew, Shane Alexander.

I love you both.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

About the Author

Booklist

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Extract

About the Publisher

Chapter One

A loud, urgent knock at the door and the barking response of his black German shepherd, Recon, awakened Shane Brand. He had passed out on the couch, as he always seemed to do, with a pile of crumpled, empty beer cans littering the coffee table and floor.

“Quiet.” Shane ordered his canine companion to stop barking. Without any protest, the dog stopped barking and sat at attention, waiting for his next order.

“Man. Chill out!” the ex-sergeant hollered in a scratchy voice when the knocks kept on coming.

His tongue felt like sandpaper in his mouth and his eyes felt like they were glued shut. Damn, he felt lousier than usual.

Shane sat up, his head throbbing, wondering if he had any beer left over from the night before. After a couple of seconds of sitting on the edge of the couch, trying to assess the situation, trying to figure out whether or not he could stand without falling down, Shane stood up. He cringed at the ache in his back and neck, the stiffness in his left shoulder, from a night spent on his thrift-store couch.

“God bless,” he muttered as he stretched his back. He felt like a bag of broken pieces hung together by rusty nails and screws.

More knocking.

“I’m coming, damn it!”

He kicked a couple of beer cans out of his path and shuffled his way from the small living room, through the galley kitchen, to the front door of his garage apartment. No one bothered to knock on his door—not his friends and certainly not his family. They’d all learned their lesson over time to let him come to them on his own terms, in his own time. Feeling annoyed and grouchy, Shane yanked open the door to give the person on the other side the death-stare. He was, unexpectedly, greeted by the loveliest wide-set, hazel eyes he’d ever seen in his life. He stared into those eyes, unable to look away, and something unexpected—something he couldn’t explain—rocked him at his core.

“Hi,” the woman at his door said.

Beyond her large hazel eyes, which were bright and clear, the woman’s face was rounded, a little on the plump side, and the full lips were unsmiling. She looked tired and tense, and her eyes, now wary, were on Recon.

Shane took note of the two boys kneeling in the grassy courtyard between the main house and his garage apartment. This must be his new landlady; he heard the moving truck pull up, so he knew she had moved in. But he slept most days and played gigs in bars at night, which had allowed him, until now, to avoid her.

“He’s friendly,” he said of Recon as he leaned against the doorway, feeling light-headed and craving a beer.

The woman’s curly light brown hair was pulled back into a haphazard bun at the nape of her neck, and she was petite, with a full bust and rounded hips. She was dressed for comfort in a faded Manchester Yankees baseball T-shirt, threadbare jeans and aqua-blue Chuck Taylors. Several ringlets of hair weren’t long enough to be swept into the bun that framed her face; one ringlet had a Cheerio stuck in it. He almost reached out and plucked that Cheerio out of her hair but resisted the urge to do something so familiar with a stranger.

“You have a...” He nodded toward her hair. “A Cheerio in your hair.”

“What?” With a half-frustrated, half-humored expression on her face, she reached up and felt around until she found the round piece of dry cereal and tossed it on the ground. “Thank you for telling me. It’s been one of those mornings.”

It had been one of those mornings for him, as well.

“I’m Rebecca.” She extended her hand.

Shane took her hand, which seemed so small and fragile in his own, and was careful not to crush the delicate bones in her slender hand when he shook it. The women in his past always told him that he didn’t know the strength of his own hands. For some reason, he wanted to be extra gentle with this woman.

“Shane,” he introduced himself. “You the new owner?”

“We moved in Saturday,” Rebecca said, her eyes floating between his face and Recon. “I thought you might have heard the truck...”

He didn’t respond as the new landlady glanced over his shoulder at the piles of dirty dishes in the sink. If he’d known the new owner was going to be knocking on his door so early in the morning, he would have tried to clean up the place a bit the night before. Shane stepped all the way outside, told Recon to stay put and pulled the door almost shut behind him. He had no doubt that Rebecca could smell the scent of marijuana mingled with the stale air of his apartment.

“Do I need to sign a new lease or are you giving me notice?” he asked. His previous landlady, Ginny Martin, had passed away and his lease had expired while her will was in probate. There was a shortage of housing in Bozeman, Montana; if he got kicked out of his apartment, he would most likely have to return to Sugar Creek Ranch, his family’s cattle spread.

Rebecca, who held her body stiffly and had an anxious, worried look hovering in her eyes, glanced over her shoulder at her two boys before answering.

“I’m not here to kick you out,” she told him. “I thought we’d see how it goes until the end of the month. Aunt Ginny always spoke so highly of you.”

“All right.” Shane nodded with a deadpan expression that didn’t reflect his relief. Rebecca’s aunt Ginny had recently passed away and left her historic home to her niece. Ginny’s late husband had been an army man, which was partly why she’d had a soft spot for Shane. The feeling was mutual. Shane had been grateful to have a friend like Ginny and he missed her. It looked like, at least for now, Ginny was still looking out for him.

“I have to get my boys to school.” She glanced at her phone to check the time. “We’re running late. As usual.”

“Ok. Well. Nice meetin’ ya.” Shane opened his door, about to walk back inside and get back to the business of finding a beer and lying back down on the couch, when Rebecca stopped him.

“Wait.” She waved her hand at him. “This wasn’t a social call.”

Rebecca jogged over to the spot where her sons had been waiting for her, picked up the squirming kitten and headed his way with her two boys following along behind her.

Great, Shane thought. I threw one back and four jumped into the boat.

“We found this poor little kitten under the front porch this morning.” Rebecca held up the wiggly, bedraggled kitten for him to see. “Is it yours?”

Shane got within three feet of the scraggly black-and-white kitten and started to sneeze.

“No.” He shook his head. He had always been highly allergic.

“Then we can keep him,” the younger of the two boys said to his mom.

“I’m sorry, Caleb,” Rebecca said in a soft, but firm, tone. “We can’t.”

She handed the older boy the keys to the car. “Carson, you and your brother wait for me in the car. I’ll be right there.”

The kitten was making a high-pitched cry and Shane had a feeling the little creature was hungry, thirsty and missing its mom.

“I’m not sure what to do with him.” Rebecca tried, unsuccessfully, to soothe the kitten. “I can’t just lock him up in the house. I don’t have a kitty box or food. Is there a shelter in town? Do you know?”

She talked so fast that Shane couldn’t figure out when he was supposed to respond. That high-pitched crying noise was making his headache worse. While he was trying to figure out a solution to the problem, the kitten finally managed to twist out of Rebecca’s hands; the moment it hit the ground, the kitten bolted through the crack in his front door, into his house.

“Oh!” Rebecca exclaimed. “I’m so sorry! I’ll go get him.”

The last thing he wanted was for his new landlady, who held the fate of his address in her hands, to venture into his dungeon. No one went in there and that’s how he liked it.

“No.” Shane blocked her path. “You’re late. Get your boys to school. I’ll catch the kitten.”

“Catch?” She had turned away, paused and turned halfway back to him, the expression on her face concerned.

“Not in a mean way. I’m allergic.” He tried to reassure her. “But I love all animals.”

Rebecca hesitated for a moment longer, appearing to be conflicted. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.” He frowned at her, not liking how distrustful she was of him. “I’ve got this.”

She thanked him, seemingly relieved to have a solution for the kitten, and without glancing back at him, jogged toward the carport on the other side of the house.

Shane scratched his long beard with a yawn as he shut the front door of his house.

“Damn.” The soldier stood in his galley kitchen, noticing, as if for the first time, how truly messy his small garage apartment had become. It was a dump. And it smelled.

On his way to the living room, Shane picked up the clothing and trash on the floor. If the kitten wanted to remain hidden in this disaster zone, he could do it. The first thing he really needed to do was get some light into the place. So Shane did something that he hadn’t done in months—he opened the curtains and let the sunlight in.

Balls of dust were kicked up into the air when he yanked open the curtains. Coughing, Shane waved the air in front of his face. Dust was going up his nose and into his throat. After he got his coughing under control, Shane began the task of finding the kitten.

He’d always had horrible allergies, and now, with the dust stirred up and a kitten on the loose, he was sneezing one sneeze after another.

“Quit it!” Shane snapped, frustrated at his own nose. He grabbed a roll of toilet paper out of the bathroom, knowing that a box of tissues hadn’t entered his apartment ever, and blew his nose every couple of minutes while he tried to find the kitten.

He searched the living room, picking up the trash as he went. The kitten wasn’t there. Shane made a second cursory inspection of the tiny bathroom before he headed into his cramped bedroom. He tried to flip on the single overhead light, but then realized that the bulb had burned out sometime last month. Or maybe it was the month before that.

“Recon.” He spoke to his companion. “You haven’t seen a renegade kitten, have you?”

Shane tried to open the curtain covering the window in the bedroom. When it didn’t move, he yanked a little too hard and the entire structure, curtain and curtain rod, crashed onto the ground at his feet.

More dust sprayed into the air, making Shane cough and sputter. “Damn it!”

This day was not going according to his usual plan. He should still be sleeping off his hangover, not worrying about a stowaway kitten.

Shane used a dirty T-shirt he found on the floor to wipe his eyes and his face. Then he balled up the T-shirt and threw it back down on the floor. Recon had lifted his head and was watching him curiously. That was when Shane noticed that his canine companion was harboring the kitten.

“Recon.” The ex-soldier walked over to the side of the bed he rarely used. “Didn’t I just ask you about this kitten?”

The kitten was curled up tightly in a ball between Recon’s legs. The only way the kitten could have gotten up onto the bed was if Recon had put the kitten in his mouth like a chew toy and lifted him.

“Look, buddy. Don’t get attached. You hear me?” Shane stared at the odd pair. “That kitten’s not staying.”

But, when he reached his hands out to the take the kitten from the safe haven, Recon growled. Recon never growled at him.

“What was that?” Shane asked, surprised. He pulled his hands back.

Recon rested his head on his paws, providing complete cover for the sleeping kitten.

The soldier stood by the bed, stumped by his dog’s behavior. Recon was acting as if he was protecting a favored toy. Recon had always been friendly to cats and kids; he looked big and scary, but he was a sweet dog. But he’d never adopted a kitten before.

“Listen to me, Recon. I’m going to clean up and then I’m coming back for that kitten. So be prepared.” Shane pointed his finger at Recon with a sneeze. “You can’t keep him.”

* * *

Rebecca had dropped her boys off at their new school, relieved that she got them there, with only minutes to spare, on time for the start of class. She had accidentally set her alarm for 7:00 p.m. instead of 7:00 a.m., and she would probably still be asleep if Carson hadn’t awakened her. She had kicked a large box of books in her rush to the kitchen—her toe was still throbbing—and then she’d dropped Cheerios all over the kitchen, and in her hair, when she couldn’t get the new box open and overcompensated by yanking on the plastic too hard. She had managed to wrangle the boys, get them fed, make sure they were dressed and then trip on the way out the door, only to be greeted by a stray kitten problem.

In the school parking lot, Rebecca sat in her car, engine off, window rolled up, overcome with a feeling of emotional numbness and exhaustion. It had cost her a huge chunk of her profit of the sale of her house to move them from New Hampshire to Montana. She had adored Aunt Ginny, and her childhood memories of one magical summer spent at the Bozeman house had made her romanticize Montana for most of her adult life. So, when she learned that she had inherited the house, and things in New Hampshire had already unraveled after her divorce, a new start in Bozeman seemed like a promising idea. She had fantasized about how wonderful it would be while she packed her belongings and turned her early model Camry westward. But the reality of the house, which had fallen into disrepair, and the small college town that didn’t seem to have many job openings for a hairstylist, made the move seem like a fool’s errand. And so far, the boys hadn’t come around to the idea that they were on a big adventure. They missed their home. They missed their school. They missed their friends. Most important, they missed their dad. What if she had just made a real mess of all of their lives by chasing a childhood dream?

One ding after another on her phone snapped her out of her thoughts and back into the present. The rapid-fire texts were from her younger sister, Kelly.

“Great,” Rebecca muttered as she quickly read her sister’s texts. Before she could respond, her sister called.

“Hey, Kell.”

Her sister was a well-known Bozeman Realtor, owned her own company and genuinely believed that her sister was incapable of accomplishing anything in her life without guidance from her. Basically, Kelly thought that she was a screw-up and that moving her boys to Bozeman was yet another example of her bad judgment. Not that it was the only reason Rebecca wanted to succeed, but proving her sister wrong would be a bonus to making Bozeman work.

“Where have you been?” Kelly had her on speakerphone. “I’ve been texting all morning. Did you get the boys to school?”

“Yes, Mother,” Rebecca said sarcastically.

“No good deed goes unpunished,” Kelly said after a moment of silence. “I was just trying to make sure you got them to school on time. We both know you’ve always had a problem with being late.”

Kelly had always been the “good daughter” and their mother had never let Rebecca forget it. She had been an A student, always on the honor roll, went straight to college after high school, married a sensible man after she graduated and then started her own business.

“Well.” Rebecca turned the key to start the car. “The boys are in school and I have a ton of stuff to do, Kell. Thanks for checking on me.”

Another pause.

“You’re welcome,” her sister said flatly.

They hung up and Rebecca headed home. As she always seemed to do after a conversation with Kelly, she litigated the conversation all over again, saying the things she could have said if only she had thought about it in the moment. She felt like she never really won a conversation with her sister. Kelly had been one of the major “cons” on the list when she had been contemplating living in her inheritance versus selling it and buying a little farm with some land in Manchester. It was a short drive back to the house that didn’t feel at all like home.

Rebecca walked past her front door and headed to the garage apartment instead. All that was inside of the house was a bunch of unpacked boxes and wayward Cheerios; just thinking about unpacking all of those boxes and cleaning up the kitchen made her feel tired. Better to find a place for the kitten first and get that task off her mind.

Aunt Ginny’s attorney, who had handled her aunt’s estate, had only mentioned the positives of keeping Shane as a tenant—he always paid his rent on time, kept to himself, didn’t have company always coming and going, and he helped out with the yard work and light maintenance of the home. She had never wanted to be a landlord—she didn’t like confrontation, discussing money or dealing with fixing stuff that might go wrong. But the idea of having some extra income to handle monthly expenses made her realize that she didn’t have a choice but to give the whole landlady thing a try.

The attorney did not mention that Shane Brand was a veteran with what appeared to be a shipload of issues. Right off the bat, she was going to have to address the elephant in the room: the garage apartment smelled like a marijuana factory. Why couldn’t Shane Brand have been easy to handle?

With a sigh, Rebecca knocked on her tenant’s door. First she would help the kitten, and then she would deal with the tenant problem. She wished she could make Caleb happy and keep the kitten. She just couldn’t take responsibility for one more life. Not right now. Maybe later.

“Hey.” Shane opened the door. He looked different—he’d taken a shower, and he was wearing clean clothes and shoes. His blue eyes, so much brighter than she remembered, were worried. “There’s something wrong with the kitten.”

She followed Shane to the back of the apartment, her mind naturally registering that Shane had cleaned up the small space quite a bit while she was gone with the boys. At the back of the garage apartment, in a room only big enough to fit a full-size mattress, Recon was on the unmade bed, whining and licking the kitten’s head.

“He hasn’t opened his eyes.” Shane knelt down beside the bed.

She joined him, taking inventory of the kitten’s condition. “How long has he been like this?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “I was cleaning up. I thought he was sleeping.”

“Have you checked to make sure he’s still breathing?”

She reached out her hand, but Shane stopped her.

“Recon is real protective of this little guy,” the ex-soldier told her. “I checked. The kitten is breathing. Barely. I was just getting ready to take him to the vet.”

“I’ll go with you.”

The kitten was listless but she could see that he was still faintly breathing.

“We’re trying to help him, buddy,” Shane said in a soothing tone to his dog. “You’ve got to let us help him.”

When she first saw Recon, he’d made her nervous. He was a massive dog, all muscle and as black as a moonless night sky. But to see him protecting that tiny, helpless kitten touched her. He wasn’t so scary after all.

Recon growled low and long in his throat when Shane reached for the kitten. For a tense moment, Rebecca actually thought that the German shepherd was going to bite his owner. She let out her breath, unaware that she had been holding it, after Recon let Shane pick up the kitten and wrap the little ball of fur in a towel.

Shane handed the kitten to her. “I’ll drive,” he said.

“Are you sober?” The question flew out of her mouth, which was unusual for her. She’d grown up with a father who tied-one-on every couple of weeks, and she could spot a hangover on someone from a mile away.

Shane opened the door for her and let her walk out first. “Yes.”

“Sorry.” She cradled the kitten in her arms. “I had to ask.”

“I don’t blame you.” Shane pulled the door shut. “But I’m good.”

They rushed out to his refurbished antique candy-apple-red Chevy truck. Recon took his position on the middle part of the bench seat and she climbed into the passenger side.

“What if they can’t take us?” She rubbed the top of the kitten’s head with her thumb, trying to comfort him.

“They will,” he assured her. “I’ve known these folks for a long time.”

It was a tense ride; she prayed all the way to the vet’s office. Shane periodically glanced over at the kitten and repeated the same phrase, “Hang in there, little guy. We’re almost there.”

Chapter Two

Ever since he was a kid, Shane couldn’t stand to see an animal suffer. He also hated to see Recon, who was still faithfully watching over the kitten, so worried and upset. They were lucky that Dr. Harlow could get them in after only a few minutes of waiting.

“I tried to give him water. He couldn’t drink anything,” Shane explained to the vet.

Dr. Harlow, a woman in her midfifties with frizzy, short salt-and-pepper hair gently handled the kitten.

“It’s a she,” the vet informed them. “When did you find her?”

“He’s a girl?” Shane asked.

“She’s a girl, yes.” Dr. Harlow sent Shane the smallest of smiles.

“This morning,” Rebecca told her. “Under my front porch. I have no idea how she got there. I didn’t see a momma kitty or siblings anywhere.”

“Unfortunately—” Dr. Harlow manipulated the kitten’s belly “—she could have been dumped. Or her mother and siblings could have been killed.”

“I thought of that.” Rebecca frowned.

“She’s severely dehydrated and malnourished. And she has an eye infection and an upper respiratory infection.”

Shane instinctively put his hand on Recon’s head, as much to comfort himself as the dog.

“Will she survive?” he asked the vet.

Dr. Harlow’s slow response to his question raised his level of anxiety. The kitten’s survival wasn’t guaranteed.

“I’d have to draw some blood to know what’s going on with her liver and her kidneys. We can treat the dehydration and infections,” the vet told them. “Other than that, I need the blood work.”

“Can I ask,” Rebecca asked with a concerned expression in her pretty hazel eyes, “how much would all of that cost? The fluids and antibiotics and the blood work?”

“I’d have to get the front desk to figure out a total for you...it could be as much as four hundred, five hundred dollars.”

The minute the vet gave them the total, Rebecca’s eyes started to tear up. Shane didn’t know her, but he’d been in some financial binds in his life. He knew he was looking at a woman who wanted to help the little kitten but didn’t have the funds. Shane looked down at Recon; the dog hadn’t taken his eyes off the kitten on the exam table.

The room was silent for a moment while Shane thought about his next move. In the silence, the kitten opened her eyes, stared up at him and made the most pitiful little high-pitched meow he’d ever heard. It was as if she was pleading with him to save her life.

“Do whatever you need to do to save her life,” Shane told the vet. “I’ll take care of the bill.”

“We’ll be keeping her here for several days.” The vet nodded with a smile for him. “I’ll call you then, Shane, with the results of the blood work? We’ll talk about next steps then.”

“Okay.”

Dr. Harlow gently picked up the kitten and handed her to an awaiting technician. “Does she have a name?”

The ex-soldier didn’t know how he’d managed to acquire a kitten, but that’s what had happened.

Shane looked at Recon, who looked back at him with an anxious whine.

“Her name is Top.” He sneezed. “Top Brand.”

* * *

Rebecca opened the front door of her inherited two-story home and surveyed the work. What she really wanted to do was curl up on the couch to take a nap. But to get to the couch, she would have to create a path through the boxes. And as good as a nap sounded, she had to push herself to make progress on the unpacking while her boys were at school. Once they got home, there would be dinner to make and homework to check. Rebecca knew that this was a big adjustment for Carson and Caleb; the sooner she got this house feeling like a home, the better it would be for them.

“No rest for the weary.” She tossed her keys on the kitchen counter on her way to find the vacuum. The cereal explosion she had created was the first on her list of chores.

“What a mess.” She sighed as she leaned over to plug in her vacuum. The first outlet didn’t seem to work, so she went in search of another outlet nearby. The third outlet worked, but now Rebecca was concerned about the fact that the other two hadn’t.

“Oh, Aunt Ginny. What happened to your beautiful house?”

After vacuuming up the cereal, Rebecca avoided the boxes and headed to her sons’ room instead. Carson had been a protective big brother from the moment Caleb was born; he always wanted to hold Caleb and feed him. The two boys grew up as best friends in part because they shared a room. Now that they could have their own rooms in this big old house, they still chose to stay together. Rebecca made the beds, something she usually had them do in the morning before school, and then grabbed the hamper and dirty towels out of the bathroom on the upstairs floor.

She disliked doing laundry, and the fact that she was picking this chore over the boxes was a testament to her hatred of unpacking moving boxes.

“You know what you need to do, Rebecca?” she said aloud as she used her back to push open the squeaky screen door leading to the back porch. “You need to get your butt inside and unpack those stinking boxes. Quit procrastinating!”

She put the laundry basket down on the stained concrete porch floor with a sigh, trying to avoid dwelling on all of the things that needed attention on the property. Luckily, Shane had maintained the grass and shrubs while the deed to the house was being transferred to her, but she had inherited the house and all of its many belongings. And some of those belongings were just junk that needed to be collected and hauled away, like the rusted, broken lawn chairs littering the back porch.

“I think Aunt Ginny, God rest her soul, may have turned into a bit of a hoarder,” Rebecca mused as she loaded the washing machine.

When she went to retrieve the load of clothes she had washed the night before from the dryer, she found a ball of wet clothes that weren’t dry at all.

“I didn’t turn this on last night?”

She could have sworn that she had.

She turned on the dryer again and then went inside to begin tackling the boxes. With the trip to the veterinarian with the kitten, and her strategic avoidance, the day was frittering away. As she started opening the boxes labeled “Kitchen,” Rebecca rehashed her interactions with Shane Brand. He was a bit of an enigma; his look was rough, with the beard and hair down to his shoulders, but there was something so soft and honest about his aqua-blue eyes. When they weren’t red from lack of sleep and too much alcohol, she imagined that those eyes could make any woman take a second and third look.

For her, when she looked into his eyes, there had been a spark of familiarity somewhere deep inside of her that had flickered. She recognized him even though she had never met him before. Every now and again, she met a new person and it felt as if they connected on a soul level, as if they had known each other all their lives. That’s what it felt like with Shane; it felt as if she had known him all her life. And the way he took charge in the vet’s office and the mercy he showed that poor kitten put two additional points in the “plus” column to keep Shane on as a tenant. She had been so relieved when he stepped forward to help Top; now she didn’t have to worry about breaking terrible news to Carson and Caleb when they got home from school. Now she could tell them that, because of Shane, Top had a fighting chance to survive.

Rebecca spent several hours unpacking the kitchen boxes, and when she was done, her back aching from bending over and her legs tired from climbing up on the footstool to reach the higher cabinets, she felt proud of herself. For the moment, she was just finding spots in the kitchen to blend her items with Aunt Ginny’s. Eventually, she would have to thin out the stuff jammed into the drawers and cabinets. There had been many moments when Rebecca came across a favored bowl of her aunt’s, something that stirred a childhood memory. It was in those times that she missed her dear aunt the most.

With two more hours of work time left before she had to leave to pick up Carson and Caleb, Rebecca grabbed a piece of cheese and an apple from the refrigerator and downed a bottle of water before she headed out to the back porch. She was feeling good as she stepped outside; the sun was shining and it took the chill off the early-Spring temperature.

“What in the world?”

The clothes in the dryer were still in a damp ball and were starting to have a faint odor of mildew. This time, she knew that she had turned on the dryer. The darn thing was broken.

She threw her hands up in the air. “Doesn’t anything in this stupid house work?”

She fiddled with the dryer, pushing buttons, and then turned it back on. It sounded like it was working, but it wasn’t. Frustrated, Rebecca kicked the dryer, but instead of hurting the dryer, she hurt her foot. In response to the injury to her foot, she began shaking the dryer in frustration. Slightly out of breath from the exertion of fighting with the household appliance, Rebecca stood quietly, hands on hips, feeling better for having told the dryer a thing or two. This day had been a mixed bag, and it was only half over.

“Lord.” Rebecca pulled the ball of damp clothes out of the dryer and dumped them into the laundry basket. “I deserve a glass of wine. I really do.”

* * *

After the trip to the vet, Shane and Recon took a nap together on the bed. It had taken some doing to get the dog to leave the kitten; he’d never seen Recon behave this way before, but there was no accounting for love, he supposed. Recon loved that kitten and that was the end of the discussion.

“Let’s go outside, buddy.” Shane grabbed a beer out of the refrigerator, feeling like his daily routine, which had been disrupted by Rebecca with the pretty eyes, was back on track. It was after noon and he was heading outside with a beer in one hand and the keys to his Indian Motorcycle in the other. He played music at night, slept the morning away and then worked on restoring his motorcycle in the late afternoon. That had been his routine for years, and that was how he liked it.

On his way to the detached garage, Shane heard Rebecca’s voice drifting his way from the back porch. He didn’t pay it any mind, determined not to get sidetracked, but a loud banging sound, as if she were getting in a fight with something, made him change directions, with a sigh, and head toward the back porch.

“You okay?”

Rebecca spun around at the sound of his voice. “The dryer isn’t drying. I cleaned the vent. That didn’t help.”

Damn. So much for getting back to my routine.

He only used to see Ginny about once a week; he could tell that Rebecca was going to command much more of his attention and his time than her aunt had.

“Aunt Ginny always used to have a clothesline in the backyard,” she said to him after she started the washing machine. “Any luck it’s still around?”

“Let me take a look at it before you go to all that trouble.”

Her pretty eyes widened in surprise at his offer and then she smiled at him. “Thank you.”

Shane went to get his tools so he could open up the back of the dryer. On his way to the porch, he checked the air vent to make sure it wasn’t blocked or an animal hadn’t made a nest in it. Once he confirmed that the outside air vent was clear, he rejoined Rebecca on the porch.

“I really appreciate you trying to fix this for me,” she said. “My sons make a ton of laundry.”

“Boys tend to do that.” Shane pulled the dryer from the wall.

“Yes, they do.”

Before he opened the back of the dryer, Shane pulled the discharge line—the large silver tube hooking the dryer to the vent—out of the wall. “Well, here’s some of the problem.”

“Oh, my gosh.” Rebecca peeked over his shoulder. “Is that all lint in there?”

“It’s packed.” Shane began to pull the tightly packed lint out of the line.

“You know, I had a brand-new front-loading washer and dryer, but I sold them because there was a washer and dryer listed in the will. I had no idea that they were the same washer and dryer that Aunt Ginny had when I was a kid.”

“Your aunt liked to hang on to things, that’s for sure.” The memory of Ginny brought a brief smile to his face.

Shane sneezed several times, and once the discharge line was unclogged, he pulled some tissues out of his pants pocket and blew his nose. He was still sneezing from Top and his eyes were driving him nuts because they were so itchy.

“Is that from the lint or the kitten?”

He sneezed again. “I’ve never been allergic to lint.”

“Shane.”

“Yeah?”

“Have you seen your eyes?”

“No.” He blew his nose again. “But they itch like crazy.”

“They are swollen. And red.”

“That explains it, then.” Shane pushed the dryer sideways so he could remove the back.

“I’m going to get you some over-the-counter allergy medicine. I always have some on hand because of Carson.”

“No need to bother.” He knelt down by the dryer. Rebecca heard him, but ignored him. She disappeared into the house while he unscrewed the back of the dryer.

Once the back was off, Shane was sure he’d found a second cause of the problem. He had cleaned a large ball of lint out of the discharge line connection that was located inside of the dryer when Rebecca returned.

“That’s disgusting,” she exclaimed. “How has this dryer not caught on fire?”

“Luck.”

“Here—take these. Generic Benadryl.”

Shane decided just to go along with Rebecca; she had that motherly look on her face and he knew better than to fight those instincts.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Do you think the problem’s fixed?”

“I’m thinking it is,” he said while he unscrewed a second cover that connected to the lint. “But I want to check this first.”

By the time Shane was finished, there was a large pile of lint, decades in the making, on the ground. He put the dryer back together, used a pair of her son’s jeans as a test garment and turned it on. Rebecca stood next to him, her fingers threaded together as if she was praying for a miracle. Standing next to this woman made him feel strong for some inexplicable reason; she made him feel capable. How could a stranger make him feel like the Shane he was before his first tour to Iraq?

Shane took a step away from his new landlady, not wanting to feel anything, much less the loss of the man he could no longer be.

Rebecca didn’t notice that he had moved away from her; instead, she was focused on the dryer. She opened the door and let out a happy noise, which signaled to Shane that he had successfully fixed the problem.

Rebecca turned to him with a broad smile on her face and her pretty eyes shining. She looked up at him as if he had done something amazing. He supposed for a woman with two boys and a basket full of dirty laundry, perhaps he had.

“Thank you, Shane.”

He liked the way her two front teeth crossed just a little, drawing his attention to her full rosy lips.

He nodded and began to gather up his tools. When he stood upright, she was looking at him as if she had something to say. So, instead of turning to leave the porch, he waited.

“What you did for me today—helping with the kitten and now this—it means a lot to me.”

“I always helped your aunt. I don’t see any reason why I can’t help you if you decide not to give me the boot.”

“I think we could all share the space,” she said, thoughtfully.

There was something she was hesitating to say to him—he could see it on her easy-to-read face.

“But there is something that is a deal breaker for me.”

He waited for her to continue; his fingers tightened on the handle of the screwdriver, but other than that, he didn’t show her how tense she was making him.

“I know that...” Another pause and a throat clear. “I know that cannabis is legal in some states now. But it’s not legal in Montana.”

Rebecca looked him straight in the eye then. “I won’t have my boys exposed to anything illegal. Do we understand each other?”

His fingers loosened their death grip on the screwdriver’s handle. “We do.”

His response got a nod from her and she seemed satisfied with the exchange. He said goodbye then and walked down the porch stairs. Rebecca finished loading the dryer and the washing machine and then headed to the screen door, where she stopped and called after him. Shane stopped walking.

“Hey. I meant to ask you. Why did you name that kitten Top?”

Something twisted in his gut and he had to swallow several times before he said, “Because that’s what I was. First Sargeant. My men all called me Top.”

* * *

After she said goodbye to Shane, the rest of the afternoon flew by for Rebecca. She only had time to get a few more boxes opened and organized by room before it was time to pick Carson and Caleb up from school. Caleb had already started to make friends; he had always been more outgoing than his older brother. Carson, on the other hand, seemed to have a dark cloud over his head all the way home.

“I want to start riding the bus.” Carson said his first words as they were pulling into the driveway.

“You do?”

“Yeah.”

Rebecca worked to keep the sadness she was feeling from showing up on her face as she parked her car by the house and turned off the engine. Driving back and forth to school had always been their time together. She arranged her work schedule around the twice-a-day event.

“What about you, Caleb?”

Caleb grinned at her, making her smile at the space where his front tooth used to be. “I go where Carson goes.”

She breathed in deeply and let it out slowly. “All right. I’ll go to the office tomorrow and see what I have to do to get you on the bus.”

They did their homework at the kitchen table, one of the only uncluttered areas, while she fixed dinner. The TV wouldn’t be hooked up with cable until the next week, so the boys played video games after they all worked to clear the table, clean up the kitchen and do the dishes. She made sure both boys took their showers, brushed their teeth and then got into bed for the night before she poured herself a glass of her favorite wine. On the second glass, she remembered the laundry and went outside, onto the back porch. There, she was captivated by the sound of an acoustic guitar playing nearby. Quietly, she went down the steps and leaned forward to look around the corner. Sitting in front of the garage apartment, a single yellow light overhead, Shane was playing his guitar. There was a sad, compelling quality to his playing and it made her want to hear more. Rebecca quickly gathered up the warm, dry clothes out of the dryer, shoved them into the hamper and took them inside. A few minutes later, glass of wine in hand, she sat down on the bottom porch step and let Shane Brand serenade her with his guitar.

Chapter Three

“Hold on,” Rebecca said to her eldest son. “Let me fix your tie.”

“It’s too tight,” Carson complained, tugging at the necktie.

“Hold still and I’ll fix it.”

“I don’t know why we have to go to church anyway. We never went before.”

Rebecca frowned at the memory. One of the major causes of conflict between Rebecca and her ex-husband was faith. Her childhood had been turbulent and the one place where she had found solace was the church. Tim, her now-ex-husband, didn’t have much faith in anything other than football and fishing.

“Well, we do now. This is a fresh start for us. Besides, church is a great place to meet new friends.”

Carson grumbled something unintelligible and Rebecca just ignored it with a smile and a quick kiss on her eldest son’s cheek. “You look so handsome in this suit.”

“How do I look?” Caleb asked, his sweet cherub face turned up to her.

She leaned down and made kissing noises in his neck until he started to giggle. “Handsome.”

Carson walked on one side of her and Caleb on the other, holding her hand. An older lady with short curly snow-white hair and a cotton floral dress greeted them at the doorway of the First Presbyterian Church.

“Welcome.” The greeter gave them a friendly smile, along with a program. “It’s always so nice to see new faces.”

“Thank you.” Rebecca returned the smile.

“Sit anywhere you’d like.”

Rebecca chose to sit near the back of the church, wanting to get the lay of the land before moving forward. She had no idea if this was the right church for her; all she knew was that this move to Bozeman was going to give her a chance to reconnect with her childhood faith.

“Don’t put your feet on the back of the pews.” She stilled her youngest son’s swinging legs.

She handed her phone to Caleb so he could play a game while they waited. She whispered, “Just until the service starts.”

As the church filled with people, Rebecca found herself smiling with happiness that was bubbling up from the inside of her body. For the first time since she had taken the drastic step to move her family to Bozeman, she felt as if she were home. One of the last people to arrive at the church was a petite, slender redhead carrying a fair-skinned baby girl. The baby girl, who was dressed in a flouncy lace dress, had the widest, brightest blue eyes Rebecca had ever seen. The woman looked around and spotted an empty seat in the pew in front of them. The redhead made her way to the spot and sat down. Rebecca waved at the baby girl and the little girl reached out her chubby hand and then quickly ducked her head into her mother’s shoulder.

Once the pastor began the service, his flock quieted. Rebecca was impressed with the sermon and she loved the singing. So many hymns that she had forgotten were jarred from the depths of her childhood memories when the choir sang. Carson half-heartedly joined the singing, but Caleb avidly followed along, singing off-key and loudly with her as she pointed to each word in the hymnal. After the choir finished its first set, the pastor asked that everyone present turn to a neighbor and shake hands. The redhead with the baby turned around and offered Rebecca her hand.

“Hi, there.” The redhead had dark green eyes and a lovely oval face. “I’m Savannah. And this little sweet pea is Amanda.”

“Rebecca Adams,” she said. “And these are my boys, Carson and Caleb.”

“Rebecca Adams,” Savannah repeated. “Why does that name sound so familiar to me? Are you new to Bozeman?”

She nodded. “This is our first full week here. I inherited a house from my aunt and I thought, why not give Montana a chance.”

“Oh. I’m so sorry for your loss.” Savannah bounced Amanda a little to keep her smiling. “What was your aunt’s name?”

“Ginger Martin. Everyone called her Ginny.”

Savannah’s expression lit up like a light bulb had just gone off in her head. “That’s why your name is familiar. My brother-in-law is your tenant.”

“Shane?”

Savannah nodded. “I’m married to his brother, Bruce.”

“Small world.”

“Small town.”

The pastor brought everyone’s attention back to the front of the church.

Savannah reached out and touched her arm. In a whisper she said, “We’ll talk more after church.”

At the end of the service, and against her harshly whispered words, Carson bolted out of the church with Caleb tagging behind. Savannah fell in beside her as they slowly milled out into the sweet afternoon sun-filled air.

“So, what did you think?” Savannah asked.

“About the service?”

A nod. “I hope you liked it. I’d love to have someone to sit with on Sundays; not that Amanda isn’t great company.”

“I couldn’t believe how good she was; she didn’t make a peep the whole time.”

“I know. It’s the strangest thing. She cries plenty the rest of the time. But during church service, not a peep.”

“Well, I liked it. I want to come back.”

“Oh, that’s good news.” Savannah stopped at the crosswalk. “Then let’s sit together next Sunday.”

“Okay.” Rebecca felt heartened that she might have already met a potential friend in Savannah. Making a connection to the community was one of the reasons she had wanted to find a church to attend.

They waved goodbye and Savannah headed off in the opposite direction. When she heard her name called, Rebecca turned around to see that Savannah was walking quickly toward her.

“A thought just hit me, and I felt like I needed to say this to you.”

Rebecca waited for the words.

“I don’t know if you were aware of the fact that Shane is a veteran.”

“I am.”

“He did a lot of tours.” Savannah’s expression reflected her concern when she spoke of her brother-in-law.

“My father was a Vietnam vet.” Rebecca wanted to reassure her new acquaintance that she understood, on a deeper level, what it was like to live with a veteran who may not have returned from war the same as they had left.

“Then you understand.”

“Yes. I really do.”

“Well.” Savannah ducked her head toward her and lowered her voice as if she was sharing a secret. “I know Shane can seem a bit off-putting, but I want you to know, that man truly has a heart of gold.”

* * *

Shane had played a gig the night before and had slept off his hangover, so when he awakened on Sunday afternoon, he felt as if all had been set right in his world. He started his day by taking care of Recon’s needs, which included a wrestling match on the floor. And then he cracked open a beer for brunch.

“Come on, buddy. Let’s get some work done.”

Recon followed him to the garage. He had managed to get his hands on a 1943 Indian 841, one of the one thousand that had been built to spec specifically for the US Army during World War II. Shane didn’t mind living in a small apartment because he could pour more of his money into restoring the vintage motorcycle.

Shane rolled the motorcycle out to the paved area right in front of his apartment. He’d been working on the restoration for several years. He had completely disassembled the bike, checked every part and then reassembled it. The motorcycle had also been restored to its original army camouflage green. He felt proud of his accomplishment, but also a little sad. Restoring this motorcycle had been his focus for years; what was he going to do with his time once the job was complete?

He was tinkering with a lug nut when Recon started barking at the sound of a car pulling in the driveway. He’d figured Rebecca and her boys were gone because it was quiet over at the main house.

“Stay.” Shane gave the command to the dog. Recon whined a little, looked back at him, but sat down and stayed put.

The quiet he had been enjoying was interrupted by the sound of Carson and Caleb chasing each other up the driveway, their laughter, surprisingly, not annoying him all that much. The two boys ran toward the back of the house, but when they spotted Recon, they made a sharp right and headed his way. Recon wagged his tail and barked a greeting.

“Hey.” Carson was wearing a suit, but the tie was draped around his neck, and he was barefoot, carrying his shoes and socks in his hand.

“Hi, guys,” Shane responded.

“Hi.” Caleb waved his hand in front of his body, like he was drawing a rainbow, and grinned at him, his head tilted to the side, squinting against the sunlight. “Can I pet Recon?”

“He’s been waiting all day for someone to give him some attention,” Shane said. “Go for it.”

Caleb fell to his knees beside the large dog and wrapped his arms around Recon’s neck. Recon didn’t move, letting the young boy hug him tight.

“Cool,” Carson said.

The boy’s appreciation for his motorcycle made Shane smile fleetingly. “Do you know what a lug wrench is?”

Carson nodded.

“My tool kit is right over there.” Shane nodded.

Carson dropped his shoes, jogged the short distance to the toolbox and then hurried back with the lug wrench.

“Good man,” Shane said. “Thank you.”

“Are they bothering you?” Rebecca appeared around the corner.

Shane glanced up from his work, glanced down, and then his eyes, almost beyond his control, went straight back to Rebecca. She was wearing a pretty sundress with a wide belt that emphasized her small waist and curvy hips. The dress was modest, and yet, Shane found it to be very sexy on Rebecca. As she drew closer, he could see that her cheeks were flushed, her pretty eyes were shining and her copper-brown curls framed her face in the most enchanting way. Today, Rebecca was happy.

“We’re helping,” Carson said.

“They’re helping.” Shane winked at Rebecca’s eldest son.

Caleb was lying on his back in the grass, giggling and being licked on the face by Recon.

“Oh, my goodness.” Rebecca’s attention was captured by the vintage Indian. “Is this an original 841 or a replica?”

“It’s no replica.” Shane stood.

She circled the motorcycle, admiring his work.

“Did you restore this yourself?”

He nodded. “Most of the parts are original. I’ve been at it for years. I only use reproductions when I can’t find the real deal.”

“Your grandfather would have lost his mind over this, Carson,” she said to her son. Then to him, she added, “My father was an Indian fanatic.”

“What’s so special about it?” Carson asked.

Shane was about to respond, but Rebecca put her arm around her son’s shoulders and said, “This is one of only a thousand that were made specifically for the army during the Second World War. This could be in a museum, that’s how special it is.”

“Why’d they only make a thousand?” her son asked.

Rebecca gave a little shrug. “The Jeep came along and the Army didn’t order any more.”

Shane knew he was staring at her; he couldn’t seem to help himself. He’d never known another woman to know the history of his prized motorcycle.

She looked at him, and he had to quickly avert his eyes before he renewed eye contact to cover up the fact that he had, in fact, been staring at her.

“Would you take a picture of my boys and me with it?”

Shane took her phone and took several pictures for her. She scrolled through the pictures and then smiled at him.

“These are great. Thank you.”

Standing so close to her, he could catch the fresh fruity scent of the shampoo she used in her hair. Rebecca Adams wasn’t the prettiest woman he’d ever seen; she was, objectively, on the plain side. But there was something about her that attracted him. It was a magnetic pull that he didn’t understand, and more important, he didn’t necessarily like it.

Shane put some distance between them, taking the lug wrench back to his toolbox.

“Hi, Recon.” Rebecca leaned down and scratched the dog around his ruff before she waved her hand to the boys.

“Come on, guys. I need you to change out of your clothes, grab some lunch and then call your dad. He misses you.”

Carson and Caleb left the way they had come: chasing each other, screaming and laughing. Rebecca hesitated for a moment.

“Do you want to join us for lunch?”

Shane didn’t want to look at her again, but he did out of politeness. “I appreciate the invite, but I had a pretty hardy lunch not too long ago.”

“Well—” she walked backward a few steps “—if you change your mind...”

He nodded; he figured that they both knew he wasn’t going to change his mind.

In spite of himself, he watched her walk away, liking the way she carried her shoulders and the soft sway of her hips.

Unexpectedly, Rebecca turned to face him again.

“Oh! I almost forgot to tell you. I met your sister-in-law today.”

“Is that right? Which one?”

Rebecca laughed. “How many do you have?”

“Three.”

“I met Savannah. At church.”

“Let me guess.” Shane walked back over to the motorcycle. “She put in a good word for me.”

“As a matter of fact, she did.”

“Well—” Shane knelt down by the back tire “—I don’t just say this because she was talking about me. You can take what Savannah says to the bank. She doesn’t know how to lie.”

* * *

Rebecca quickly changed into jeans and a T-shirt and twisted her hair into a bun at the nape of her neck. The boys, now in their weekend clothes, met her in the kitchen.

“Did you hang everything up?”

“Yes,” Carson said.

“No,” Caleb said simultaneously.

Wordlessly, Rebecca pointed her finger toward the stairs leading to the second floor. Caleb took off running, which made her smile, even as she reminded him not to run in the house.

She made a quick lunch and then sent the boys back up to their room to start unloading the boxes that had been stacked neatly in the corner by the movers. While she washed the dishes, she looked out the window over the sink and watched Shane sitting in a lawn chair between his motorcycle and his front door, brushing Recon’s coat. Much like the feeling she had about the German shepherd, Shane’s outward appearance didn’t seem to necessarily match his outward appearance. Savannah was an earnest soul—that was her impression of the woman—and her words only confirmed her own instinct about Shane Brand. There was a good man hidden beneath that beard, long hair and gruff personality. Thoughtfully, she wiped her hands on a dish towel, and by the time her hands were dry, she had made a decision. She had made one too many sandwiches, and instead of wrapping it up and putting it into the refrigerator, she wrapped it up in a paper towel and took it out to Shane.

“I know you said you weren’t hungry.” She held out the sandwich to him, spotting the open beer at his feet. “But I don’t really consider barley and hops a hearty lunch.”

Shane frowned at her for a split second before he silently took the sandwich. Recon took the opportunity, with his tail wagging, to greet her again. He licked her arm and she found a spot behind his ear that he liked to have scratched.

“I heard you playing the other night.”

Shane had eaten half of the sandwich in one giant bite. He was chewing, so he couldn’t answer right away. He swallowed hard, took a swig of beer and then said, “Ginny never minded me playing at night.”

“Oh. I don’t mind.” She wanted to reassure him. “I...” Rebecca paused, not sure she wanted to share the fact that he had, unknowingly, given her a private concert. “Actually, I sat on the back porch stairs and listened to you.”

Their eyes met, and she was so taken with the blue of his eyes. Those eyes drew her in and held her suspended for a minute before she could remind herself to look away.

“I’ve never heard anyone play a guitar like that before.”

It had been sad and haunting and passionate. Shane played the guitar with all the emotion he couldn’t seem to express in his expression or in his words. In so many ways, perhaps too many ways, Shane reminded her of her beloved father.

“Then I’ll keep on playing for you.”

She tucked her hands into her back pocket and shifted her weight onto one hip. “I wanted to talk to you about the new lease.”

Shane crumpled the paper towel in his hand and she reached out to take it from him instinctively, as she would with Carson or Caleb.

“I like you, Shane. You seem like good people. You know the house, you take care of the yard and I could really use the extra income right now while I’m settling in and looking for work. So, if you want to stay on, I’ll have the attorney send over the lease.”

“I want to stay.”

“Good. Then it’s settled.”

“Same rent?”

“Same rent.”

He stood up, crossed the short distance to her and held out his hand. “I appreciate this, Rebecca.”

“Of course, the old lease only accommodated for one pet. We’ll have to change that to account for Top.”

“I’ll pay an additional pet deposit, if you’d like.”

“No.” She shook her head. “I’m just grateful that you saved her. Any news when she can come home?”

“Tomorrow.”

“That soon?”

He nodded.

“That’s wonderful, Shane. Caleb is going to be over the moon when he hears. I’m going to warn you now, he’s going to beg you to see her.”

“He can come see her.”

“Well, if either of my boys start to wear out their welcome with you, don’t be shy, just tell them the truth and they’ll respect it.”

He gave her another nod.

“Well, I’d better get back to work. Those boxes aren’t going to unpack themselves.”

The last time, she had something to add to the conversation—this time, it was Shane who stopped her from leaving.

“I forgot the thank you. For the lunch.”

It wasn’t his words that made her pulse quicken; it was the way he looked at her, like he really saw her. When Shane looked at her, it felt as if he was able to read all of the secrets of her soul. It was unnerving and, if she was being honest with herself, exciting.

“It was my pleasure, Shane.”

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