Chapter 4

Chapter Four

C aroline's cells vibrated with the tension now zinging through the air. Part of her wanted to slip her hand into Dawson's as he lowered his arm, but the louder, more professional part of her told her to actually put more distance between her and the cowboy.

She did that as the brothers continued to look at one another. Caroline's memory came forward then, and she remembered that Duke was Dawson's half-brother.

Duke finally started walking again, his eyebrows drawn down and his mouth a thin line before he said, "What's going on?" He finally moved his eyes to her. "Who's this?"

"Caroline Thompson," Dawson said, his voice a perfect diplomatic growl. "The Wildlife Conservation Officer. "

Duke's irritation barely lifted, but he did arrive and stick out his hand. "Right. I'm Duke Rhinehart."

"Great to meet you." She shook his hand and looked along the fence line. "Do you want to show me where the owls are?"

"How did you get here so fast?"

"I—" Caroline sucked in a breath as Dawson's hand slid along her waist, no skin-to-skin contact and no heat, but the intimate pressure still made her body flood with tingles.

"We were at the fireman's breakfast," Dawson said. "Same table, and when we saw the food, I nearly upended everything." He made a sound that sounded like the crow barking, and it took a moment for Caroline to realize it was a laugh.

"I figured that wouldn't be good, so we came back to the ranch, and I made breakfast." He cut Caroline a look out of the corner of his eye as he said, "we," his gaze quickly returning to his brother.

Duke met his eye again, held it for a moment, and then switched his gaze over to her. "What a lucky coincidence."

She turned toward Dawson, who wasn't going to be any help at all. He simply looked at her with those gorgeous aqua-marine eyes and gestured vaguely for her to go with Duke.

"They're down here," he said, and he'd already started to walk away. Since Dawson wasn't offering up any other options, Caroline moved to follow his brother.

She didn't want to work today, but sometimes she had to do things she didn't want to do. Owls didn't know what day it was, and Caroline didn't have to keep track of her hours. She got paid to get the job done, no matter when or where that happened.

Duke had just as long of legs as Dawson did, and he didn't slow his stride to allow them to keep up, despite the loose terrain at her feet. Caroline spent a lot of time outside, walking through dirt or down dirt roads or dealing with dirt. After all, that was what the burrowing owls lived in, and they'd become her whole life here in Three Rivers.

No one said anything as they walked, and Caroline's mind went on the fritz. Dawson had introduced her as the Wildlife Conservation Officer, not his girlfriend.

Which would've been weird , she told herself. She and Dawson were not dating, even if it had seemed like he might kiss her in front of that kitchen sink.

She now knew the dog toys belonged to a cattle shepherd named Ruffin, and the coins and shiny objects had come from a pair of crows he'd named Rocks and Nugget.

She twisted and looked behind her, but the crows had flown off. Ruffin trotted along beside Dawson, his tongue hanging out, and Dawson raised his eyebrows.

Caroline faced forward again, because it wasn't exactly even ground here, and she didn't need to trip and fall flat on her face. She wasn't even wearing her boots, so she minded the way and kept following Duke.

Due to her experience, she found the burrowing owls before Duke started to slow and stop. "Here they are," he said.

Caroline stepped past him and crouched down again. Ruffin came right to her side, and she looped her arm over his back. "You can't chase them off, buddy."

Only a few holes existed here, and she only saw two owls. She glanced around and found evidence of their tracks and inhabitation, and she sighed. "We'll need to cordon off this part of the ranch," she said.

"Can we keep them from spreading?" Duke asked. He seemed darker than Dawson, though when she looked up at him, she could see some of the same features in him that Dawson possessed. "Or do we have to just let them have complete run of the ranch?"

Caroline looked back to the burrowing owl den, ignoring the tightness in Duke's jaw. "Well, Duke, burrowing owls are actually quite fascinating. They don't actually dig these burrows themselves; they use holes abandoned by other animals, like prairie dogs or even armadillos here in Texas."

Dawson, who had caught up to them, listened intently, his aquamarine eyes reflecting a mixture of curiosity and concern. "How long do they usually stay in one place?" he asked, brushing a hand along the side of his face, as if he had something there he didn't like.

"They're somewhat nomadic, depending on the availability of food and the safety of their environment," Caroline explained, her eyes scanning the sparse landscape that stretched beyond the burrows. "They can stay in a suitable burrow for several years if it remains undisturbed. But they're also capable of moving on if they feel threatened or if the area becomes unsuitable. It's part of their survival instinct."

Duke crossed his arms, looking over the land that had been planted with winter wheat. "And expanding their nests?" he pressed, his voice tinged with a hint of worry.

Caroline nodded. "They can expand their nesting area, yes. As their population grows, they'll need more space. It can lead to a larger colony if left unchecked, which isn't necessarily a bad thing unless it conflicts directly with your ranch operations."

Which of course it would. One look at these two grouchy cowboys confirmed that in a single breath. Ruffin whined softly and edged over to her, nudging Caroline's hand with his nose. She gave him a reassuring pat but remained focused on the brothers as she stood. "The presence of these owls can be a sign of a healthy ecosystem," she finally said, attempting to sound smart and tell them that their ranch had a healthy environment. " I know it's not what you want, but we'll need to be careful with land management here."

Dawson nodded, his gaze drifting towards the horizon. "It's God's creation, after all. We're just stewards," he murmured. His words hung in the air, a gentle reminder of their responsibility to the land and its creatures.

Caroline's pulse tripped over itself, because while she'd suspected Dawson had a lot of deep thoughts he didn't let come out of his mouth, she hadn't expected to be touched by one of them. She hadn't expected this man who'd caused her so much anxiety and grief over the past several months to be…soft. She hadn't expected to like him.

Duke also didn't seem to share the sentiment, because he asked, "But what if it comes down to choosing between the crops and the owls?" in a gruff, growly-bear voice. "This land isn't just our livelihood; it's our legacy."

"I honestly don't think it'll come to that," she said. "There's usually a breeding pair with some other solitary birds. This is a small space; they won't be able to stay if their flock is very big, and there are only two of them here." She glanced around as if another few owls would come swooping in.

"I'm not sure how long they've been here," she said. "They could have bones and such inside the burrow." She sighed and looked over to Dawson, then quickly rebounded her attention to Duke. "We really don't need to do much but make sure this habitat doesn't get disturbed. I can bring out some fencing and mark it off properly, and then you can keep doing what you do out here."

Her stomach vibrated a little bit at what she needed to say next. She wished she'd brought a bottle of water with her, as the sun beat overhead, and talking to these two men had left her mouth dry. "You'll have to be more conservative during breeding season, as loud machinery and whatnot can disturb that."

"When's breeding season?" Dawson asked.

"Starts about March," Caroline said, glancing over to him. "Runs through the summer months. We find a lot of owls move on after their chicks are raised."

"You're talking almost a year," Duke said. "Of us tiptoeing around these owls."

Caroline fixed him with her best law enforcement look. She'd had to take courses in law enforcement to become a Wildlife Conservation Officer, and she'd once been awarded a certificate for having the sharpest glare. "Yes, Mister Rhinehart," she said. "That's right. These owls are protected by the State of Texas, and?—"

"I know," Duke said, cutting her off. He held up one hand. "I'm sorry. It's not you I'm upset with." He looked over to the little brown owls with the bright yellow eyes. "Like my father says, if it's not one thing, it's another."

Duke looked over to Dawson. "You're in charge of this. Brandon, Kevin, and I will stay away from whatever gets marked off out here."

"Yes, sir," Dawson said, and Caroline wasn't sure why those words and his acquiescence to his brother made her heartbeat quiver, only that they did.

"Okay, well, I have to keep checking this fence. We've got predators coming onto the ranch somewhere, and I'm determined to find the break in the line today." With that he walked away, leaving Caroline with a very silent and very straight-faced Dawson.

She wanted to say something to cheer him up, but she didn't know what. She wanted him to smile at her and act like he'd had a good time at breakfast. She wanted him to see her.

No, she needed him to see her and respond to her.

She hadn't had that in her previous relationship, and she would not allow another man to look through her, ignore her birthdays, forget their anniversary, none of it. She would not make herself smaller to spare his feelings. She would not make her own special dinners.

She blinked, and the sun shining in her eyes reminded her she no longer lived in the Hill Country, married to a man who barely seemed to know she existed.

If she was going to start something with Dawson that went beyond unanswered emails and bickering, she simply wouldn't tolerate him falling silent and shutting down. She also couldn't believe she'd actually thought about starting something with Dawson—it was amazing what a good, home-cooked meal could do to a woman.

So you'll tell him if the time comes, she thought as he nodded back the way they'd come. "Should we go?"

"Yes." Her voice came out craggly and rusty, and she cleared it, so she could speak in a stronger, more authoritative voice. After all, she was not going to fold herself into a box to make anyone else feel good about themselves. Not again. Never again.

"Yes, let's go." As she walked back to the truck with Dawson and his dog, she wondered if he'd ever ask her to do that, and she started praying that he wouldn't. Because she found herself interested in getting to know him and perhaps even becoming friends with him—and more than friends?—and that couldn't happen if he couldn't handle her coming back at him every once in a while.

Or if he never asked her out.

"Left here," she said, and Dawson dutifully flipped on his turn signal.

"You live in Crescent," he said.

"I what?" Caroline's heart beat strangely in her chest the closer to her house Dawson drove. She wasn't sure why, other than once he'd dropped her off here, he'd know where she lived.

Which was fine. She now knew where he lived.

He looked over to her, and it seemed several things had shifted by the simple act of driving out to the West End Fence and seeing all the animals there, even the ones that weren't threatened.

"You live in the Crescent neighborhood," he said. "See, all the old neighborhoods in Three Rivers, before the town started getting bigger, have names."

"I didn't know that."

"We have some great history in Three Rivers," he said, but he didn't offer anything else. He didn't volunteer to be her tour guide and then take her to dinner.

Just the fact that she wanted him to do that made a pinch of unrest settle between her ribs. Something foamed between her and Dawson, and he'd have to be a robot not to feel it. Surely he'd felt the electric buzz when he'd held her hand, even if it was only to steady her as she stood after loving on his dog.

In fact, he didn't say another thing until she said, "It's that red brick one on the left," to which he murmured, "Okay."

A few seconds later, he turned into her driveway and parked behind her SUV, which meant Belle and Judy were back from the fundraising breakfast. Of course they were. Caroline had been gone for hours.

She exhaled as she turned toward him, nothing to collect and take with her. No purse. No keys. Just her phone and herself. "Thanks for breakfast, Dawson." His older brother called him "Daws," but Caroline wasn't going to do that. "You make the hash browns just how I like them." She gave him a tentative smile she hoped would earn her a real date with this man, but he simply nodded in a very grumpy cowboy way, no twitching upward movement of his lips at all.

She wasn't sure if he was going to say anything, so she turned and opened her door. She used the runner on his tall truck to guide her feet to the ground and added, "See ya," as she hurried to close the door.

She turned and walked up the sidewalk, cursing herself and pressing her eyes closed for a step or two as the words See ya ran through her head.

Caroline scoffed. "See ya? Who says that?" She wasn't twelve and making a left on her bike while her friend went right after a lazy morning of fishing.

The curtains fluttered, which meant Belle had spotted her already, and Caroline would have to tell the whole story of that morning. She wished she had a more exciting ending—like a dinner date with Dawson tomorrow night—but at least the morning hadn't been a disaster.