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working the day before and physical therapy this
morning.
    Even during the worst of it, just after surgery, he hadn’t been
expecting that. That the pain would be so overwhelming. That the injury might be
so bad he’d never ride again. He’d been on a horse since he was three. It felt
more natural to him than walking. And now, now it felt as though his muscles
couldn’t quite remember the way to walk naturally, much less direct a horse with
the barest of tension. But his muscles weren’t really the problem. The problem
was the crack that went from his hip joint and halfway up his pelvis. With the
shattered femur and the metal holding all that together…
    “We’re going to have to see,” they’d said. “You could do
permanent damage in a saddle.”
    But Cole couldn’t accept that. He didn’t know how to accept
it.
    He’d been completely out of work for eight months, and he’d
been cleared to work half days only a month before. But for a cowboy, a half day
should’ve been eight hours, with no such thing as a weekend. Cole didn’t know
what the hell to do with himself.
    It was worse now that he was up and around. He was at the ranch
most days, watching his old friends do the things he couldn’t do. Cole was
relegated to the yard and corrals, limping from job to job until Easy told him
his four hours were up and he had to leave.
    Four hours a day, five days a week. It was shameful. And how
was he supposed to be ready for the roundup when he wasn’t allowed to push
himself?
    He wasn’t supposed to go in today, but if he snuck into the
tack house and worked a few hours on repairs while everyone else was out
checking cattle, he could sneak out before lunchtime. Hell, Easy wouldn’t know
anything about it. Cole wouldn’t get paid, but this wasn’t about the money. It
was about being where he belonged, doing something useful. And getting his body
ready to get back to work full-time.
    The front door hadn’t opened yet, so Cole assumed the car had
been stopping at another house. Which still left the mystery of his new
next-door neighbor. He eyed the coffeepot, then the clock. He still had two
hours to waste before he could safely sneak onto the ranch.
    So, what the hell? A little curiosity never hurt anyone.
    He laughed at that. Curiosity had nearly ruined him once. But
he’d been a boy then. Stupid and easily controlled by his sense of adventure.
And his dick. One and the same, sometimes, and not exactly a moot point when it
came to curiosity either.
    After all, Grace was beautiful.
    Well, not beautiful. That wasn’t the word. Not pretty either.
Or cute. Not with that wild, choppy hair in chunks of brown and black and
purple. And those dark eyes that looked like they absorbed everything and let
nothing show through. And her pale, flawless skin. She wasn’t pretty—she was
striking. Like a kick to the gut. And he hadn’t felt that since…
    Hell, he hadn’t felt that since he was an idiot boy getting his
first taste of a girl from the big city. So maybe he hadn’t grown up so much
after all.
    But regardless of where she was from, this wasn’t L.A. and he
wasn’t signing up for a life of debauchery. He was just checking on a
neighbor.
    So, Cole stood up—purposefully not pressing a hand to his thigh
as it screamed—and walked out to knock on her door.
    The silence that followed wasn’t a good sign. Eight o’clock was
late by his standards, but too early for a girl like her, maybe. But the more
likely truth was that she wasn’t there. She’d disappeared as quickly as she’d
shown up. Seemed about right. Rayleen had sent Grace on her way. Those two would
probably get along like a couple of feral cats.
    Convinced that the place was just as empty as it had been two
days before, Cole started to leave, only to swing back around when a muffled
voice interrupted the silence. “Who is it?”
    “It’s Cole,” he said, a smile springing so quickly to his face
that it startled him. When she didn’t