He lifted a shoulder, silent and slightly sullen.

“Okay, good.” Delia said, ignoring the attitude. She’d been the queen of attitude growing up, so she figured she could deal with it, knowing it was the only way he felt comfortable communicating for now.

Ty had saddled two horses so that she could take Jacob out on a ride. He’d offered to go with them, as had Zoe, but Delia wanted to do this alone the first time.

However, she couldn’t help but wish Jacob had picked something else for his first adventure on the Triple M. She also wished he’d let go of some of his resentment.

And yet he’d wanted to come.

“Let’s go,” she said, hoisting herself into Betsy’s saddle. “We’ll stick to the trails and keep to a walk.”

“Why?”

“Because we’re both beginners.”

Disappointment filled his face. “You’re a beginner, too?”

“Well…” It’d never been easy to admit her shortcomings. How could she tell him she was really a city girl, more accustomed to lights and sirens than the musical silence of the wilderness? All her own self-doubts threatened to drown her, but she managed to shove them aside. “Yes, I’m a beginner, but together we-”

“I wanna go with someone who knows what they’re doing.”

“I’d probably want the same thing.”

Both Delia and Jacob turned at the sound of Cade’s voice, and Cade had to smile at their twin looks of irritation. Like brother, like sister, he thought, pushing away from the fence and moving closer. “How’s it going, Jacob?”

“Fine.” Jacob eyed Cade’s faded jeans, blue chambray shirt and scuffed boots. “You look like a cowboy,” he said, smiling.

“Do I?” Cade had avoided meeting Delia’s gaze, but he did so now, and felt the usual punch to his system, not because of her beauty, but because something passed between them, something he was attempting to ignore. “How about some company?” he asked her.

“Can you teach me to gallop?” Jacob asked. “Can you?”

Delia’s face was unreadable; she was good at keeping herself closed off. Too good. But he thought he knew how she felt about him coming along.

She didn’t want him.

“’Cause I want to learn to race,” Jacob said.

Oh, boy. Tommy had been five when he’d died, and that had been eight years ago, but it felt like only yesterday he’d heard that whiny tone. Cade’s long-forgotten and rusty father skills resurfaced. So did a rush of pain at his loss.

“You can’t race until you learn what you’re doing, Ace. And for starters, you’ve got to keep your feet in the stirrups.”

Jacob blushed and muttered, “I didn’t know. And anyway, she’s just a beginner too.” He tossed his head toward Delia.

Delia’s hat shielded a good part of her face, but Cade had no trouble detecting how hurt she was by Jacob’s not-too-subtle criticism.

“She’s your sister and the one who invited you here,” Cade said carefully but with an unmistakable warning. He remembered this, too, having to correct and discipline. It wasn’t his place here, and as a result, he had no trouble sensing Delia’s unhappiness at both Jacob’s tone and his own interference.

Damn, he shouldn’t have come back. Hadn’t wanted to come back.

Liar.

But there was something about these hurting, proud siblings that drew him. The urge to help them was stronger than his own urge to run. “Are you unhappy here already?” he asked Jacob.

The boy shot a quick look at Delia. “No.”

“You sure?”

“I’m sure.”

“Okay, just checking. Look, Jacob, it’s good to communicate and tell people how you feel, but it’s not good to hurt people with words. Do you understand?”

Jacob stole another peek at Delia. “Yeah,” he responded.

“Because if you’d rather, we can arrange for you to fly back to Southern California.”

“Cade,” Delia said quietly.

He reached out and settled a hand at the base of her spine, his arm resting on her saddle, and felt her instinctive reaction in the tightening of her muscles. He left his hand on her, feeling his own tightening, as well. “So what’s it going to be, Jacob?”

The boy stared at the brilliant blue sky, dotted with huge puffy clouds. “Stay,” he said quietly. Then he shocked Cade by looking straight at Delia. “I want to stay. With you.”

Delia blinked, for a moment incapable of hiding her surprise. Clearly touched, she said huskily, “You can stay for as long as you want.”

Cade looked at Jacob steadily, until the boy’s shoulders sagged. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled. “I didn’t mean to be rude.”

“I know,” Delia told him. “We’re still getting used to each other, aren’t we? I won’t apologize for being a beginner, but maybe we can learn to ride together.”

He sent her a cheeky smile. “Can we learn from Cade?”

Delia met Cade’s eyes and saw a whole host of things there, things he didn’t know what to do with.

“Yes,” she answered Jacob, still looking into Cade’s eyes. “I imagine there’s a lot we can learn from Cade.”

Cade found himself staring right back, absorbing her silent gratitude, her affection.

Jacob urged his horse forward at a slow walk.

Delia hesitated, then said softly for Cade’s ears only. “You’re so good with him. As if…”

As if he knew what he was doing?

He did know, or once upon a time he’d known. “I understand kids,” was all he managed to say.

She sent him a warm sweet smile, and he was helpless to hold back his own.

They took Jacob on a ride through the hills behind the ranch. The light snow from the night before hadn’t stuck, but the ground was stiff with frost. With it crunching beneath their feet and the hush of the oncoming winter, they were in their own world.

With each mile, more of Jacob’s bad attitude faded and more of the real Delia showed. Cade held himself back, afraid that being with this woman who’d become so special to him and with the boy who was rapidly becoming special would be painful.

After all, it should remind him of a life he’d had long ago, and in some ways it did.

But Delia wasn’t his wife, and Jacob wasn’t his son.

And much as he didn’t want to admit it, he felt more joy than pain.

He reined in his horse, and both Delia and Jacob came to a stop behind him. “Ready for that run now?” he asked Jacob, whose face lit up before he remembered to play it cool.

“If you want,” he said with his characteristic one-shouldered shrug.

Delia opened her mouth, and Cade was certain she was about to veto the idea. Before she could, he scooped the boy onto his horse and settled him in front. Jacob immediately stiffened away from the physical contact, but Cade just smiled. That would change, and soon. He handed Jacob’s reins to Delia, who gave him a long look.

“What are you doing?”

“He wants to gallop,” Cade said simply, as if he didn’t suddenly feel the need to run hard and fast and furious himself.

Delia’s eyes narrowed. She was on to him, no doubt. “Be careful.”

“Always. Hold on,” he whispered to Jacob, slipping an arm around his waist. Then he let the horse have its way, and they took off at a fast clip across a wide meadow.

Jacob held himself stiff for exactly one second before he gave in. He clutched the arm Cade had around him, but laughed joyously as the wind whipped icily against their faces.

“Good?” Cade shouted.

“The best,” Jacob shouted back with a wide grin. “More!”

Cade gave it, and for a few short glorious moments horse, boy and man ran free as the wind. It felt inconceivably…right. At the end of the meadow, Cade brought the horse to a stop. Jacob straightened away from him immediately, but turned his head to look at Cade, his eyes sparkling. “I want to do that on my own horse. Can I?”

“Soon.” Cade laughed, reaching forward to ruffle the kid’s hair in a gesture that felt as natural as breathing. God, he’d forgotten how good it felt to be with a kid, how kids smelled like youth and innocence, how they laughed with abandon, how everything they felt they wore on their sleeve. “But definitely not today. Delia would skin me alive if I got you injured on your first day here.”