Ryan pushed off the railing and scratched Frankie’s ears with his other hand, laughing when the dogs mirrored each other beneath his fingers.
“You two are ridiculous,” he told them in no uncertain terms. “I think we’ll do a tick check tomorrow, what do you think, hmm? You been romping in the brush and trees? Maybe we’ll check you for burrs, too, but I think you take care of those on your own.”
Neither dog seemed interested in addressing his questions, or showed any concern for what he was suggesting. He suspected he could say the word “vet” while he was scratching them and not hear a peep.
The sound of tires crunching against gravel brought him up, looking toward the front of the house, where the blue sedan was pulling up.
He couldn’t see the driver, but the back door opened, and a petite woman with dark hair got out, trim legs encased in slim-cut jeans that somehow didn’t seem to quite fit. She tugged at the waist of them, hiking them up a bit, then shook the tail of her baggy green T-shirt out a little as she looked up at the house.
There was something about her expression that Ryan instantly liked, the curiosity mingled with hope, which was a nice change from the reluctance and distaste he’d seen on the faces of a few other women who had come to stay. Those expressions tended to change the longer they were here, and especially after they had started in with Kellie’s therapy sessions, quite a few coming to view the ranch as a home away from home.
Would this one?
He watched her take in a deep breath, then release it, and he wished he could tell what color her eyes were as she narrowed them at something he couldn’t see on the roof. Her lips quirked into a small smile, and she ran a hand over her long braid, her fingers lingering at the end to toy with the hair there. Her bottom lip tucked under her teeth briefly, and she rocked on the balls of her sneakers.
This woman was broken?
She looked fine to him.
Mighty fine.
Ryan took the liberty of slapping the back of his own head for that, given his sister would have done so and knocked his head off with it.
Rules were rules.
He’d never had a problem with that, and he certainly wasn’t going to start now.
“Hi!” he heard his sister drawl as she came out of the house, though he wasn’t sure when she had gone back in or what in the world for. “You must be Talia.”
“That’s me,” the woman replied, her smile remaining in place, though somehow it changed. It was hard to tell from his vantage point, but strain of some kind seemed to come into it.
He didn’t like that.
“Welcome to the ranch,” Kellie continued, almost skipping down the steps.
Ryan would have flicked his sister’s ear for her tone, so peppy and bright. Did she always greet her clients that way? They were broken, if the brief for coming to the ranch was right, and surely hearing a tone like that wouldn’t help matters. And this woman in particular probably needed an arm around her shoulder, not a greeting card in her face.
Broken people didn’t need parades.
His sister should know that.
“Aren’t you gonna call it Broken Hearts Ranch?” Talia asked Kellie as she came to her, hand outstretched.
Kellie shook her head firmly, smiling at her, not seeming the least bit bothered by Talia’s slow response to her. “We rarely call it the full name while we’re here, hon. Nobody needs reminding of broken hearts when we’re trying to mend them. I’m Kellie Prosper, and it is so good to have you here.”
“Is it?” Talia asked, taking Kellie’s hand and shaking it, though she suddenly looked very young and very insecure.
Ryan suddenly wondered what her age was, and her situation.
He never wondered those things, and he wasn’t supposed to care.
Ever.
“Yes. It is,” Kellie assured her new guest, putting both of her hands around Talia’s. “Come on in, let’s get you settled.” She looked over Talia’s shoulder, nodding once. “‘I’ll get my brother to help with your bags.”
“Oh, no, I can …” Talia tried to protest.
Ryan was already heading that way when he heard his sister holler, “Ryan! I need you!”
“Yeah, I figured, Kellie,” he grumbled as he came around the corner of the house, making sure to smile so Talia could see his affection for his sister.
Kellie gave him a warm smile as he reached them and tilted her head toward the single suitcase Talia had packed. “Would you please take Talia’s bag to her room for us?”
“I can do it,” Talia insisted firmly, gripping the handle of her bag. “Really, it’s fine.”
Ryan ignored her, but politely, standing in front of them both, hands at his hips. “Which room, Kells?”
“The only open one,” she shot back. She rolled her eyes and looked at Talia. “I swear, I do tell him these things, but the man just doesn’t listen.”
“I don’t need help with the bag,” Talia told her, apparently not caring about the sibling banter.
Kellie grinned at that. “I know that, hon. But we might as well make use of Ryan while he’s around. Gives him something to do.”
Talia finally looked at Ryan, and he was struck by the amber color of her eyes, something he had never seen before and could have studied for ages. It was like watching butterscotch cook on the stove, swirling round and round in the pot while it neared perfection. Her long, dark lashes were a perfect curtain for such eyes, and he struggled to remember how to speak for a second.
He touched the brim of his hat. “Ma’am.”
She blinked, then managed to smile just a little. “I don’t suppose it would do me any good to argue further, would it?”
“No, ma’am,” he replied, his throat scratching on the words. “I make it a point never to argue with my sister. She’s more stubborn than any mule I’ve ever met.”
“We won’t be seeing much of Ryan during your stay,” Kellie assured Talia in a slightly louder voice, widening her eyes for effect. “He’s really very busy running the ranch part of the place.”
Ryan glanced at her with a crooked smile. “If you say so, sis.” He moved over to the suitcase and took one side of the handle, though Talia still had not released it. “You’re gonna need to let go, ma’am, or I will be superfluous to this whole thing.”
“Big word, cowboy,” Kellie praised as she looped her arm through Talia’s. “Playing Scrabble?”
“Triple word score,” he shot back, wishing she would let the woman talk to him rather than interfering.
Talia surveyed him for a moment, inhaling shortly before exhaling in a rush. “I’m not very good at letting things go,” she admitted.
Ryan raised a brow, wondering if she might have more than one meaning there. “Need help?”
“Probably.”
Though nobody had asked him to, he reached out and gently pried each of her small fingers from the handle, ignoring how soft her skin felt against his calloused fingers. When only her palm remained, he lifted that off and let it rest by her side, cursing himself when his hand brushed very lightly against the denim of her leg when he did so.
He hadn’t meant to do that, didn’t want her to think anything, prayed she hadn’t noticed.