Maybe it was because for the first time since coming to Texas, she now had something to lose if things went wrong.

When she’d first arrived in Haywire, she had no home, no friends, little money. All she had was a promise of marriage. She’d told herself that if it didn’t work out, she would be no worse off than before. Knowing she had nothing left to lose gave her a sense of security, strange as it seemed.

Now, suddenly, everything had changed. She was surrounded by people she cared about, and oddly enough, the ranch had begun to feel like home. Much to her surprise, she’d also discovered how much she liked teaching. How much she liked working with children. How much she looked forward to her days.

To think that everything she now cared about could be gone in a blink of an eye scared her. It had happened before and could happen again. Sometimes lightning really did strike twice.

Now, as she sat at Chase’s desk, she tried shaking away her uneasiness. She needed to focus on the stack of invoices waiting to be recorded.

It had been a dry winter and spring, and Chase worried about the continuing drought. For that reason, he’d ordered several factory-made windmills, an expense the ranch could ill afford. But if water didn’t fall from the sky, it had to come out of the ground.

The cowhands spent a great deal of time talking about rain or, rather, the lack of it. Bostonians talked about the weather too, but never with such concern or urgency.

Here in Texas, every cloud was noted, every change in the wind analyzed. From Foxhound, Emily had learned that birds flew lower before a storm. He insisted that the low-flying birds spotted earlier that day meant rain was on the way. Beanpole Tom had disagreed, stating that rain was on the way only if his tobacco smelled stronger. Boomer had also taken issue with Foxhound, claiming there were too many spiderwebs.

“Spiders don’t build webs when it’s gonna rain.”

Cookie’s method of predicting rain was based on whether the drawers in his kitchen stuck. “Sad to say, but my drawers are loose,” he’d said to uproarious laughter.

He’d taken a lot of ribbing about having “loose drawers,” and Emily smiled at the memory. She was still smiling to herself when the door sprang open.

Chase walked in, seeming to fill the office with his presence. She had never been completely immune to his good looks, but lately, the mere sight of him ignited an awareness in her that was overwhelming. Recalling her hands on his bare chest, she sucked in her breath, and heat rushed to her face.

His eyebrows lifted. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were working.”

Hoping he hadn’t noticed her reddening cheeks, she returned the pen to the penholder and closed the ledger. “If you need your office…” She stood.

“No, no. That’s all right. Finish what you’re doin’.” He hesitated, his blue eyes seeming to pierce hers, and she found it impossible to look away. “I thought maybe you’d like to go on a calvin’ check with me tonight.”