“Well, no offense, but you could’ve fooled me. You look like you cry pretty good.”

“I don’t know what my problem is,” she said, wiping at her nose.

She set her toast down and brushed crumbs from her hands, then from her lap. There was a crumb on her cheek, but he decided not to say anything.

She picked up the hot chocolate mug, curling her fingers around it and tapping them against the ceramic. Then she took a long, slow sip.

“My mom used to make me this when I had a cold,” he said. “No real science to it or anything. My mom doesn’t cook. So...canned chicken noodle soup, packaged hot chocolate and toast was like luxury. It always made me feel better.”

Jamie looked up at him, the expression in her eyes confused. She blinked slowly. “Nobody brought me anything when I was sick.”

She looked back at the hot chocolate and took another slow sip.

“What?”

“Oh, my dad was always really busy. He worked the ranch every day. My brothers were usually in school. I used to go hunt around and get myself saltines and bring them back to bed. I didn’t get sick much. It was not fun.”

“Being sick isn’t fun,” he pointed out.

Except, he knew what she meant.

Having a cold was never fun, but he had been one to eke a sniffle into a whole day lying in his room, because he knew it meant his mom would be back and forth with goodies and cool, caring hands. That he would feel safe and nurtured, and have Popsicles and TV shows and all kinds of attention, which, growing up in a house with three rowdy boys, was incentive enough.

In general, Tammy Dalton was of the opinion that her boys ought to be self-sufficient. But when they were sick, she softened right up. It was all Campbell’s and Otter Pops.

She had been there for him when he’d needed it. And he’d always felt he needed to be there for her, too. It was the way of things. His mom had protected him, taken care of him when he’d been small and vulnerable.

And now that he had the broader shoulders, he did the same.

It was a choice he’d made. To act the way he felt a man should.

Real men protected the ones they were supposed to love.

“If you were really sick...” he began.

“It’s not like my dad didn’t check in on me,” Jamie said, her expression stormy. “He’s a good dad. And you know, he’s never been the warmest or softest man, but he cares. And you can see it in how he works the ranch, works with the horses. It showed me what mattered, and he shared it with me. He made me who I am. I didn’t need toast.”

Gabe thought about his own dad, and how he’d treated Gabe’s desire to get involved with the ranch. The way he’d taken the horses from him.