Navy Seal Protector. Bonnie Vanak

Maybe your dad can convince your mom to let you go hunting next year, when you’re a little older.”

      “Daddy keeps a gun under his pillow,” Miles told him, but clammed up when Mason frowned at him.

      Odd. Dan had always been a bit squeamish around guns. Necessary on a ranch, but his cousin let Silas do the shooting. Why would he feel the need for home protection with a gun, especially with vulnerable children living here?

      Next he removed a small black velvet box and opened it, studying the gold winking in the lamplight.

      “What is that?” Mason asked.

      Nick removed the pin and showed them. “That’s my Budweiser, my Navy SEAL pin. Only real Navy SEALs get these.”

      The boys examined the pin with avid interest while Nick went to the window. He lifted the curtains with the back of one hand, peering into the darkness at the twin carriage lights on the garage. Shelby lived out there. Cute, curvy Shelby, who had turned his world upside down ten years ago with that killer kiss...

      “If you’re sleeping here tonight, make sure to lock your window. We all have to make sure the house is locked tight before we go to bed,” Mason told him.

      Nick recoiled. He glanced down at the ground two stories below. “Why?”

      “So no one breaks in, like they did last month.”

      Crime, here at Belle Creek? “What happened?”

      “Someone went into Mommy and Daddy’s bedroom.” Mason looked troubled.

      Nick squatted down by the solemn little boy. “What happened?”

      “Daddy says not to talk about it outside the family,” Miles told him.

      Nick smiled. “I’m family. You can tell me.”

      Miles seemed to consider. “Someone stole Mommy’s favorite pen.”

      “Pin,” Mason amended. “They went into our parents’ bedroom and took Mom’s jewelry. Her favorite pin. It had a silver horse with emerald eyes. It was right after that when Readalot died—”

      “Daddy was real upset,” Miles interrupted.

      “I’ll tell it, Miles.” Mason looked at Nick. “Readalot was our champion jumper. He won lots of competitions. Shelby went into the stables and Readalot was dead in his stall. He was our champion jumper. Hank, the ranch hand, say the horse was healthy as an ox. Someone killed him.”

      He needed to find out what the hell was going on around here. Then he remembered he didn’t live here anymore.

      Nick ruffled the boys’ hair. “Don’t worry about it. Do as your mom and dad tell you. I’m sure things will be fine.”

      But they stared at him with those big eyes. “Will you stay here? Maybe if we have a real Navy SEAL stay here, the bad things won’t happen.”

      Tightness formed in his chest. Bad things happened all the time, and he couldn’t do a damn thing to prevent them. But these were young, innocent kids, and while they didn’t deserve lies, they also didn’t deserve adult worries. “We’ll see,” he said vaguely. “I’ll do everything I can while I’m here, okay?”

      The words were more BS than the droppings in the pasture, but both boys looked relieved.

      “Now, go downstairs to your mom. I’m sure she’s worried about you being up here with big, bad cousin Nick.” He winked at them and they grinned in pure male camaraderie of doing something they shouldn’t.

      When the boys left, Nick fingered his SEAL pin. Hell of a price paid for getting it, but not as much as his brothers in arms, who had paid the ultimate price with their lives. The pin meant everything to him. But he’d left the teams after his hospital discharge, when he knew he couldn’t perform up to par, knew he would never be at the top of his game again.

      And now he felt more lost than when he’d stormed away from the ranch and Silas’s iron grip when he was nineteen, never looking back.

      No reason for him to stay now. But as he gazed out the window, he saw a car pull into the driveway by the garage. Light from the dual carriage lamps showcased a woman climbing out—a woman with dark hair and a gentle sway to her hips.

      Shelby. The mouth-watering, kissable Shelby.

      He watched her walk across the drive toward the house. Nick checked his appearance in the mirror, finger-combed his hair and went downstairs as the doorbell rang.

      Miss Shelby Stillwater. His blood surged, hot and thick. He thought of that kiss and how it had made every cell inside him alive and aware.

      Maybe it was time to stay. At least until he could figure out what the hell was going on around here.

       Chapter 3

      The funeral had been a quiet, dignified affair. No one shed a tear, except her.

      But as she’d stood by the graveside, watching the others throw flowers on the casket, she saw Nick rub his eyes. Maybe he and Silas had been on bad terms, but the man was his father.

      Shelby had sidled over to Nick, who was standing alone and looking lost, and clasped his hand. He’d looked startled, and then a little grateful.

      Now, as they sat in Silas’s downstairs study in the farmhouse, Nick looked neither. Guarded, perhaps. No...wary. And quite uncomfortable, as was she. The last thing she wanted to do, after the emotion of the funeral and the strain of helping to host the reception at the house afterward, was to listen to the reading of the will. She only wanted to collect Timmy from the downstairs rec room, where he was playing with Mason and Miles, then go to her apartment. Maybe take Timmy riding on his pony later.

      Lord knew they needed to return to some form of normalcy.

      Normal certainly had not been last night, when she’d gotten Timmy from this house. Nick had been in the hallway, leaning against the staircase, his long, muscled body looking hot as sin as he’d hooked his fingers through the loops of his belt hoops. He looked ready for sex.

      It had taken all her willpower to murmur a polite greeting and tear her gaze away from him instead of ogling him like a schoolgirl. Fortunately, Felicity had been in a hurry and practically threw Timmy into Shelby’s arms. She’d made a quick introduction of Timmy, and then fled with her nephew as if a blond devil was on her heels.

      Today’s somber occasion reminded her that Nick was only here temporarily. Shelby was certain he’d leave right after this. Perhaps even faster than the last time he’d gone away, leaving only the angry rubber of his tread marks on the front drive.

      Silas’s lawyer, Kurt Mohler, had gathered them together in this room. Shelby sat straight in the leather chair, trying to keep her nerves from jumping like water on a hot skillet. She doubted Silas had left her anything in his will, but her main concern was keeping her little apartment above the garage, at least until Heather and Pete returned from Iraq.

      On the leather sofa, Dan and Felicity and Dan’s younger brother, Jake, looked attentive.

      She and Nick perched on the wing chairs near the sofa, while Kurt, who seemed restless, paced before the fireplace. Finally the lawyer turned.

      “Silas made his last wishes very plain and clear. Daniel, I want you to know that as the family lawyer, if you wish to contest his will, you have the right to do so. However, it will be a lengthy court battle, which is something I’m sure you can’t afford.”

      Her stomach clenched in tight knots. This wasn’t a good start.

      Dan frowned. “Why would we want to do that? Uncle Silas was always good to us.”

      Kurt removed a gold pen from his suit pocket and began fiddling with it. “As you know, the ranch is deeply in debt.”

      She