Ally rarely said what she was really thinking. She worked even harder to conceal what she was feeling.

Hank respected the need for privacy. He rarely shared his most intimate thoughts, either. But there were times, like now, when he felt she would be a lot better off if she confided in someone. To his knowledge, she never did, but remained determined to prove herself to everyone who crossed her path.

She wanted everyone to know that she was smarter, better, tougher.

That she didn’t need anyone.

And that she couldn’t wait to hightail it out of her hometown of Laramie, Texas.

Which was, Hank noted ironically, where he’d finally come back to stay.

Having completed her brief, wordless tour, Ally swung around to face him. Up close, he could see the shadows beneath her eyes. The brief flicker of uncertainty and vulnerability in her expression.

She wasn’t as over her grief as she wanted him to think.

He understood that, too.

The need to move on, even when moving on felt impossible.

“I’m putting the ranch up for sale on December 24,” she said, leaning against the desk in the study.

Hank had figured this was coming. It was why he’d offered to take care of the place in her absence.

He’d wanted first dibs when it came time for her to let go of the four thousand acres she had inherited from her folks.

Ally folded her arms. “You’ve got two weeks to vacate the ranch house and move your herd off the property.”

Two weeks to place his bid…

“In the meantime, I’m moving in,” she added.

The thought of them encountering each other at all hours of the night and day wasn’t as intrusive as Hank would have figured. Maybe because she was so damn pretty…not to mention challenging.

“I plan to start emptying the house immediately,” she said.

Ally had donated her parents’ clothing to a local church. As far as Hank could tell, all their other belongings remained. “You’re sure you want to do this?”