"Daddy!" Shay shouted. Heather jumped at the loud exclamation. And then she realized that it was Stetson the girl was referring to. She felt like a fool. Of course he was married. A guy like him didn't get to his age without being scooped up by some beautiful woman. But who is she? And where is she? She didn't remember Jill mentioning Stetson's wife.

She felt much more embarrassed about their earlier encounter given this revelation. Somehow it seemed worse that a married man had been the one to comfort her. Which was odd because they hadn't done anything wrong. Nothing about their conversation bordered on romantic. For Pete's sake, they were talking about her dead husband. She pushed away the awkward feeling.

"Hey, sweetheart." He leaned down and gave her a hug. The action was so sweet she nearly cried. That was the same kind of thing that Sean had done for Layla. She's missing out on so much.

"I like Miss Heather, daddy." Her heart softened at the little girl's admiration. Children were so easily won over. One of their best attributes and worst faults.

"You do?" he asked. Shay nodded.

"She's real nice. I want to meet her daughters." Stetson looked over at her.

"Maybe we can do that sometime." She sensed that he was questioning her and nodded.

"I know they would like you a lot, sweety." Shay looked at her as if she'd said something controversial.

"Even though I can't walk?" she questioned after glancing down at her lap.

"Of course! You're still you, right?" Shay said nothing. Poor little girl. She couldn't imagine how hard it would be to have to sit in a wheelchair all day. She wondered how it happened but didn't ask. It seemed too much of a personal topic.

"Let's eat!" one of the men called. They all made their way to sit down and she noticed that she'd been placed right next to Stetson. I hope he doesn't think I did this. Shay sat on his other side. After saying grace, everyone dug in.

Conversation flowed easily around the table. Nobody seemed to question her presence after Jill introduced her and she was thankful. She'd never been good at speaking in large group settings and, though it was only one family, there were over twenty people gathered around the massive table. It was like a huge family reunion and she couldn't help but be impressed. She never could have survived in a house with her parents and her siblings—not to mention their kids. Even if it was just for a dinner. There would have been too much fighting.

Stetson bumped her arm gently and she looked up to see almost every eye in the room trained on her. She could feel herself blushing under their scrutiny.

"I-I'm sorry. I'm afraid I was lost in thought."

"No problem. I was just asking how your daughters were doing." It was Kyle who asked the question.

"Good! They're both happy and healthy so that's all that matters." She noticed that Stetson had all of his attention on her. She shifted uncomfortably. Intense would be a good description for him. Intense and uncommonly attractive. She startled at the thought. Since Sean had passed away, she hadn't thought that about anyone. Guilt coated her insides.

Firstly because, even though he had passed away over two years ago, to say that anyone else caught her attention felt like a betrayal of the worst kind. And secondly, because he was clearly already taken. Or was he? She nonchalantly glanced over at his left hand. No ring. When she looked up, he was observing her with raised brows. As if to question what she found so fascinating about his plate where his hands rested close by. She looked back at her own meal as the blush crept up her neck. I'm so glad he doesn't know what I'm thinking. She could still feel his gaze so she asked a question, hoping to ease the awkward feeling growing inside.

"So where's your wife?" She saw him physically tense and wished she'd never asked the question. He glanced away—clearly wishing he could avoid answering. Did she leave him? She was on the verge of apologizing for her question when he answered.

"She, uh, she passed on about three years ago." Her heart broke for him. The anger in his voice showed how clearly he had loved her. She'd heard that women grieved by getting sad. Men did by getting angry. After all, a sobbing man was much less acceptable than a sobbing woman. Sadly.

"I'm sorry." she said. He said nothing in response. In fact, he seemed to curl into himself. After dinner, she watched him walk out the front door while the rest of them headed out to the back porch. Half of her didn't want to ask for a ride back to her car. The other part knew it wouldn't be wise to walk in the dark. She thanked both Jill and Hank for having her for supper. They protested her exit but she explained that she needed to get back to her daughters.

That seemed to appease them. She walked around the side of the stone mansion and found Stetson out by his truck. He was sitting on the tailgate swinging his legs. And staring at the setting sun. She walked closer. He turned when her foot scuffed the gravel. She stopped. His expression didn't look upset any longer. And while she wanted to move on and avoid all mention of their earlier episode, she couldn't let it lay. Not after her past.

"I'm really sorry for asking about your wife. I didn't know." He watched her with those gorgeous deep blue eyes and she momentarily lost herself in them. He broke the moment when he turned back to the West. She walked closer and leaned her hip against the tailgate. Something told her he wasn't angry with her but she desperately wanted to hear him say it. They sat in silence for several minutes before he spoke.

"Heather. You don't have to apologize. I wasn't angry at you for asking. I just don't like talking about her." he said.

"I understand." He looked down at her.

"No. You don't." he stated. Irritation rattled up her spine. How could he say that? She knew exactly what it felt like to lose someone you cared deeply about. Had he already forgotten their first conversation? She certainly hadn't. She was close to lecturing him on grief and the loss of a loved one when he questioned her.

"Are you ready to go?" he asked. Some might say that asking a guest such a question was rude. But she couldn't even get mad because that's why she'd come out.

"Yes." If he noticed her clipped tone, he ignored it. He hopped off the tailgate and went to open the passenger door for her. She raced him to it and slammed it shut before he could protest. She tried to remember that grief made some people act funny but she hated how he'd ostracized her. She did understand. He got in, buckled up, and just sat there. She wondered if he was going to speak but, when he said nothing, she looked over at him.

"I need to get home. Can we please go?" She added the "please" even though she didn't feel like it.

"I need you to put on your seat belt." He sent her a look that suggested she'd better not fight him on it. She made a show of rolling her eyes before putting it on. He didn't seem affected. They drove in silence back to her little Honda. She jumped out of his Dodge. Just as she was about to apologize again for being so rude, he held up his hand.

"Don't, Heather. I don't need to hear it again." She was taken aback by the anger in his eyes. His mouth pressed into a firm line.

"You don't even know what I was going to say."

"Yeah. I do actually. You were gonna say sorry...again." How had he guessed?

"So why did you stop me?" she asked. His eyes narrowed.

"Because I've heard every apology in the book and I don't care to go through it again." He dismissed her with a command to shut the door. She did. After he drove off, she just stood there staring after him. Losing Sean might have changed her but at least she wasn't a jerk like him. She climbed into her car. As she drove off, she contemplated the evening. Most of it had actually been pleasant. But she knew she wouldn't do it again. The youngest Dalton and her were apparently not going to get along.

Stetson laid in bed rolling over their conversation until it made him sick. He'd been a jerk. He knew it too. That's why it was nearly one in the morning and he still hadn't fallen asleep. He was right. She didn't understand. But neither did he want her to because then she would realize that he was even more of a loser. He'd seen his own brother's reaction when he told Kyle that he didn't miss Lisa. How would a near stranger understand? Especially considering that she'd had the dream marriage. Doting husband. Sweet kids. It was a fairy tale story.

There was no way she'd get the whole on-the-verge-of-divorce, I-hate-my-wife kind of marriage. He grimaced. His shoulder blades were throbbing. The cramp gripped him without warning. He bit his lip to avoid crying out. He hadn't gotten one of those in the hamstring for...seven years. It was almost enough to make him run back to Idaho. Except that he couldn't move. Much less run.

He was pretty sure it was at least a decade later when it ended. He took four deep breaths before sitting up. Too much Texas heat, not enough water, and lots of weight-lifting with the one hundred-pound bales had gotten to him. He stood up cautiously and walked over to the door. He winced when it creaked, glancing over at Shay, who had insisted on sleeping in his room. She didn't move. He stepped out into the hall and walked downstairs to grab a glass of milk. Once he poured it, he sat down at the bar in the kitchen and sipped slowly.

"What are you doing down here?" He jumped at the sound of Austin's voice. His older brother and his family had stayed the night at the big house after the filling supper. Their own small mansion was getting some work done on it and they were staying with Jill and Hank for a few weeks. Stetson looked over to see his shirtless brother staring at him with the same look he was sure he had on his face. One of surprise. He glanced down at his glass which was now only half full.

"Drinkin' milk." He smirked at his brother's eye roll and glanced back down at the oak bar that his father had lovingly installed per his mother's request. He was a fantastic husband. Then again, his mother was a great wife too.

"I meant, what are you doing drinking milk in the kitchen at one in the morning?" Austin came and sat on the stool next to him. He ignored him and left his glass of milk on the counter. He heard his brother's sound of annoyance and ignored it. After racing outside to his truck and grabbing the gift, he came back up the steps, into the house, and back to the kitchen where his brother was staring at him in confusion.

"Here." he said. Stetson handed the chocolate bar to Austin after sitting down. His brother took it. Hesitantly.

"What's this for?" His face showed wariness.

"For being a jerk." That actually made Austin smile.

"Oh? You mean with that beer the other night?" Stetson dipped his head once and took another drink of milk. "Can I ask why?" Austin asked as he tore open the packaging. Stetson contemplated the question. Being honest would make him feel like a loser. But, then again, every man needed to be knocked off of his high horse every once in a while.

"My wife was a drunk." Stetson finally admitted. His brother winced at the statement. "Shay was paralyzed by being hit by a drunk driver. I know it isn't the can that caused it all but I still hate it. I haven't had a drink for years." Austin looked truly sympathetic.

"I'm sorry, Stet. I had no clue." Austin said. Stetson said nothing. "You know, not all women are like that." He knew his brother was hinting at and he wanted to ignore him.

"I know." he replied after a brief pause.

"You ever think about remarrying?" Austin asked. Stetson didn't want to have this conversation with his older brother who'd shown him no previous interest and who happened to have married the perfect gal the first time. So he changed the subject.

"Why are you awake right now?" he inquired. He knew he sounded ticked off. Austin shrugged and took a bite out of the chocolate bar.

"You sounded like an elephant clomping down the stairs. I'm sure I'm not the only one you woke up."

"Sorry. I'm afraid my ninja skills are a bit rusty. I had a cramp...in my hamstring." Austin groaned aloud and nearly choked on his chocolate. He took a drink of Stetson's milk and Stetson shook his head.

"How long did it last?" Austin asked. His brother's face had an amused compassion on it.

"I think this one was about thirty seconds. But I could have swore it lasted a decade. Tomorrow's gonna hurt." Austin bobbed his head in silent agreement. It was odd really—sitting in the kitchen drinking milk and eating chocolate with his older brother while speaking of their physical ailments. Or rather, his physical ailments. He smiled at the thought.

"What are you grinning about?" His brother glanced at the chocolate. "Did you poison it?" This made Stetson laugh. When he finally caught his breath, he shook his head.

"I was laughing because we sound like old men." Austin chuckled.

"Yeah. Won't be long. You're already twenty-five."

"Hey! At least I don't have gray in my hair." he joked, pointing to Austin's head. His older brother ran a hand over the back of his neck and sighed.

"That's cause you don't have sons, Stetson. You'd have it too." Austin's words brought to mind Lisa's accident. They hadn't been able to save the baby—who happened to be a boy. Stetson knew deep in his heart that he would have kept him. If he'd lived. Even if Lisa had still died. He would have raised that boy as his own. The thought caused him a little grief. Shay would love to have a sibling. Or two. Or ten.

"Lisa didn't want sons." He hadn't meant to say the words out loud.

"Why?" Austin asked.

"She said they might end up being like me." He grinned. "But she lost anyway. Shay's my little buddy."

"Well. She could have done a lot worse than you. And yeah. She's the spitting image of you, besides the hair. You've got that Elvis black everybody wanted." He grinned in agreement. It was true. Out of all five of them, he was the only one who'd inherited his dad's hair color. The rest of them were blond like his mom. He hummed the tune to "I Can't Help Falling in Love".

"Oh brother!" Austin's exclamation was loud and Stetson shushed him. It was about a minute before they heard it.

Stomp! Stomp! Stomp!

Only one man ever did that in this house. His father came down looking like a grizzly who'd been awakened from hibernation in the dead of winter.

"Go. To. Bed. Both of you." Austin quickly complied. Stetson wasn't far behind. His father didn't start up the stairs until they reached the landing on the second floor. Stetson fell back into bed and slipped off to sleep. It came easier now. Maybe the milk thing really did work.

Heather closed her eyes as her head hit the pillow. She felt an immense sense of frustration as she thought of her conversation with Stetson. She hated how he pushed her away and that confused her. Or maybe it wasn't so confusing but she didn't want to admit that his acceptance mattered to her. It shouldn't. She'd just met him that afternoon. But she didn't want him to reject her.

She knew the burden of carrying the pain by yourself. And she wanted to fix it for him. But he wouldn't let her help. Men were so prideful. She huffed and rolled over. The girls had been excited to see her but Amora's accusation for taking so long still rang in her ears. She would never leave if she didn't have to. Her sweet little girls needed her home more. Jade, their babysitter, spent more time with them than she did and that bothered her greatly. It always had.

She still remembered her mom's disinterest in her own children. The cold-hard truth was, Jocelyn Myers had never cared for any of her children. They were unfortunate consequences of her marriage to a man who wanted children. And even then, her father hadn't been involved much in her life either. He was more interested in her older brother, Jared, and her younger brother, Devin. They would serve his purpose more than she ever could. Unless, of course, she were to marry a wealthy man. She'd hated the aristocracy of her life. Meeting Sean on his six-week leave had been the best thing that ever happened to her. She'd been suntanning on a beach somewhere in the deep south. Her mother had insisted that she needed to get away from the house. She knew it had to do more with the fact that her mother wanted her out of the way. She'd never even gone home to New York. Florida suited her just fine. Once she was officially Mrs. Whitley, they had moved to San Antonio. The place she had hoped to stay until she died. Sean had been born in a big city and never wanted the small-town life she craved after the Manhattan lifestyle she'd been raised in. But she was willing to put up with the hustle and bustle if it made Sean happy.

No one that met her would ever guess she'd been born into a very wealthy family. But she had. And she hated it. The difference between her own father and Hank Dalton was that, though they were both filthy rich, Hank had poured blood, sweat, and tears into his land to earn it. Her own father had done very little manual labor. She remembered a time when she'd thought he was the hardest working man alive. But after living in the little farming town, she realized that busy didn't necessarily mean productive. She'd spent every day of her life jumping from one activity to the next.

But she hadn't learned anything useful until she was on her own. The patience Sean had with her was unearthly. No man had ever shown so much lenience to her. So much love. She'd never had the doting daddy. And now her daughters wouldn't either. The thought broke her heart but she tried to shove it away. At least if she was a good mother, not having a daddy wouldn't be a big deal. Right? She wanted to think that but even she knew that it was a lie. Nobody could replace a little girl's father.