“Well?” Raylen asked.

She stepped aside. If she was going to embrace a normal life she’d have to get used to the rules. “Come in. I’m sorry. I just got unpacked and my mind was off in la-la land.”

Raylen grinned. “Been there.”

He went straight for the recliner where Blister had taken up residence on the back and sank into it. Hooter raised his head and wagged his tail. Raylen scratched the dog’s ears and then turned his attention to Blister.

“They miss Haskell. I’m glad you let them in the house.”

“Hooter was howling like he was dyin’. I opened the door to see what was going on, and they both came in,” she said. Should she sit in the other recliner or the sofa? She finally crossed in front of him and claimed the other chair.

“They’re good animals. Blister has a litter box in the utility room off the kitchen. The litter is in the cabinet beside the washer and dryer. Hooter would explode before he’d make a mess, so there’s nothing to worry about them bein’ inside. Haskell said they were good company, and that Hooter knew all his secrets. He told me that he was glad the dog couldn’t talk.”

Liz smiled. “Too bad. He could tell me stories about my uncle, I’m sure.”

“Yep, he could.” Raylen grinned.

When he smiled, she remembered that crazy feeling in her chest when they were teenagers. He had smiled at her over the fence and her heart had done a couple of flip-flops.

Liz inhaled deeply to ease the antsy feeling in her gut, but it didn’t help. All she got was a lung full of Raylen’s shaving lotion. The man had cleaned up in the last couple of hours. His boots were spit- shined, his dark hair still glistened from a shower, and his Wranglers were starched and creased. He looked like sin on a stick when he was all sweaty and dirty—but cleaned up, he made her mouth go dry.

“So you are Uncle Haskell’s nearest neighbor, now mine I guess, right?” she asked.

He pointed toward the fireplace. “Less than a mile as the crow flies, straight that way. Haskell’s house and ours is probably set on a plumb line, but to drive there, you have to drive down your lane to the highway, hang a left, drive a mile, turn left down the lane, and then back to our ranch. But I jumped the fences and walked over tonight. Needed the exercise after Mama’s supper.”

I would shoot you between the eyes if you called me Mama. When I get a husband, even when I have kids, he’s not calling me Mama, she thought.

“How many fences?” she asked.

“Well, you have the backyard fence, but it’s got a gate. Then the corral fence, but it’s got a gate too. After that there’s the rail fence out into the horse pasture, but there’s a stile over it, and then your fence. So, I suppose I only actually jumped one fence,” he said with another grin and then asked, “Why are you looking at me like that?”