“So,” she said. “To what do I owe the pleasure of a personal fancy dinner?”

“Does there have to be a reason for me to want to sit and have dinner with my sister?”

“I don’t suppose,” McKenna said. “But usually, you’re content to invite me over to the ranch so that I can see everyone.”

He should have known he couldn’t get anything past McKenna. It amazed him how much she was a Dalton, through and through, even having not been raised with them.

“I did want to talk to you,” he said.

“Is it about Jamie?”

His stomach tightened. “No.”

“I know something is going on between the two of you,” she said. “I was at the bar that night. You’re about as subtle as a couple of yowling house cats. It was completely obvious when she came back to the table that something happened.”

Thank God she only knew about the bar, and nothing else.

“It’s complicated. And Jamie isn’t what I want to talk about. Though there are some things about Jamie that have me thinking...”

“If you hurt her,” McKenna said, picking up a butter knife, “I will kill you. She is my future sister-in-law. And you’re my brother. But she’s younger, and my husband will side with her. Which means I have to side with her, too.”

“How do you know she wouldn’t hurt me?”

McKenna laughed. “Whatever. Okay, what do you actually want to talk about, since you’re clearly not going to give me details about the situation with Jamie. Which I will weasel out of someone.”

The glint in her brown eyes left him in no doubt of McKenna’s ability to weasel. But he wasn’t going to give her what she wanted.

He was about to talk personal with her. But his personal. Not Jamie’s.

What had happened between him and Jamie wasn’t something he could just go around talking about for a variety of reasons.

“The way that Jamie is with the horses... It reminded me of how things used to be for me. Before. I don’t like to complain about this stuff to you, but you know growing up with Tammy and Hank Dalton was like living in a box full of rattlesnakes and live firecrackers. God help you if it all went off at once.”

“I can imagine,” McKenna said. “I’ve heard about how they used to fight.”

“It was something else. They were like different people than they are now. I would escape. Go out to the barn, go for a ride. It was like I could finally hear myself think again. My horses were companions and they were therapy.” He grimaced. “It sounds dumb but...”

“It doesn’t. I feel that way about them now.”

He sighed. “I used to want to do something with the rodeo. Use my money to make a difference or something. And then I lost that somewhere along the way. Just...being in it. I need that to change. Because I think that the ranch could be...therapy the way it was for me. Maybe for kids like me. And kids like...you, I guess. And I wanted to talk to you because... What could you have used? My dad left you to fend for yourself.”