Cowboy Daddy. Angel Smits

and Lane had pulled off his over-shirt for her to wear. His plain white T-shirt and the hormones raging through his body had been enough to keep him warm. He wondered what had become of that shirt, as he’d never gotten it back.

      That was the first of many times DJ had warned Lane to stay away from his sisters.

      Pain cut through Lane’s hand suddenly, bringing him back to the present. A barb had gotten through his thick work glove and he pulled it off to check the damage to his finger. He cursed, sick and tired of the calluses and pain of his beat-up hands. He didn’t mind the pain—he just hated the work that caused it.

      His back to the ridge, his injured finger wrapped in the tail of his shirt, Lane stared at the horizon with its late-afternoon shimmer of heat.

      How many times had he thought about heading straight to that horizon and never turning back?

      Something bumped his shoulder, and he turned to see Midnight standing there, looking at him wide-eyed.

      “I know, boy.” Lane patted the wide brow. “It’s useless to dream. You just want to get back to your oats, don’cha? I’ll hustle.” He went back to work and had the fence up before the sun was fully gone. Wyatt’d be happy now.

      At least that made one of them.

      Swinging up into the saddle, Lane took one last glance at the vanishing horizon before turning Midnight toward the barn.

      Lights were coming on all over the ranch house. Glancing back once more, Lane watched the sun dip below the horizon, snuffing out the illusion of his future there.

      * * *

      AMANDA HELD LUCAS in her arms and stood at the wide picture window in the den. She watched Lane, high in Midnight’s saddle, as he crested the ridge and headed to the barn.

      Closing her eyes, she fought the burn of unwanted tears. “See that? That’s your daddy.” She knew Lucas didn’t understand her, but he would.

      “Don’t pay attention to him being so distant,” she whispered to Lucas. “Something’s up, but we’ll figure it all out. Daddy really does love...you.” She’d almost said “us” but she wasn’t so sure anymore. As she looked at her son, she hoped and prayed she was telling the truth.