Becca clutched the doughnut box against her chest as she headed out to the barn with Alaska, feeling oddly vulnerable. What if she saw Hank and both of his brothers there? Would they laugh at her for being desperate enough to show up with baked goods? Would they chase her off and tell her she wasn’t wanted? God, why had she shown up?

She knew why, though. She loved Hank and she missed him and Libby terribly. She wanted to see if this could be saved somehow, some way, because the thought of living without them in her life hurt too much to contemplate. She thought she’d just get over it, but that wasn’t happening. Every day she missed them more. So she sucked in a deep breath and headed into the barn.

The smell of cattle, horses, and hay assaulted her, and she picked her way inside as carefully as she could. There were a few calves in a stall—bottle-fed babies, likely—and two of the horses were still in their stalls as well. One of the ranch dogs loitered, watching Alaska curiously with a slowly wagging tail, and at the far end of the barn, she could just make out a pair of big shoulders behind some equipment and a cowboy hat. She headed in that direction, trying to think of the words to say.

Hi, Hank, I just wanted to see if you were okay.

Hi, Hank, just checking in to see if Alaska was still on the menu or if you miss me.

Hi, Hank, contrary to what you might have heard, I’m not back with Greg. I promise whatever your brothers might have said isn’t true.

But all of those sounded stupid and needy, and she kept spinning the words through her brain over and over again, looking for just the right opener as she walked toward him. All of it flew out of her head when she turned the corner and saw him standing in the middle of a stall with one of the cattle, his arm inside the thing up to the elbow. Oh dear.

“Uh, hi,” Becca stammered. “Is this a bad time?”

Hank looked at her like she was crazy. “What are you doing here?”

“I should be asking that of you,” she joked. “I guess you’re lonely.”

The look on his face grew even stranger. “I’m turning the calf. The hooves are stuck.”