“She’s more than under your skin.” She smiled up at me like a fool. I needed to halt this conversation pronto. I wasn’t real keen on chatting relationships with my baby sister… who was innocent.

“What’s this I heard about you going to a bonfire with Jimmy Rogers the other night?” I cringed and waited for her answer. Ellie-May might have been the baby and protected by us all, but she was growing up and none of us could stop it, no matter how hard we tried. Baby sister or not, we were screwed. I looked over at Ellie-May who was still smiling with a dreamy look in her pale blue eyes. Her honey-blonde hair hung in waves down her back. Her tiny frame and small dimple in her left cheek, teamed with her blinding smile that could light up an entire room, meant she was already the center of attention. She was a knockout, which in big-brother speak meant we weren’t just screwed; we were royally screwed.

“He’s cute.” She blushed while I groaned out loud.

“Cute isn’t good enough,” I told her gently.

“He’s not just cute; he’s smart. He’s sweet to me.” She looked down at her hands, which were now tracing patterns on the cover of her book. “He’s not like the other boys.”

“I know you’re not a baby anymore, Ellie-May, but… please just be smart.” I swallowed past the thickness in my throat. “You can always come to me or the boys. Strike that; don’t go to Austin, unless it’s in dire circumstance. Or somebody needs a hidin’.” I scrubbed my hands down my face again and stared off into the wide expanse that was our ranch, contemplating the day my little sister falls in love.

“Ellie. Please stop calling me Ellie-May. I’m not a baby, you just said it so I’d really like it if you stopped calling me that.” She protested in what I was sure wouldn’t be the last stand on her ‘growing up’

I’d always been her protector, her rock. The moment she came home from the hospital, she was my little Ellie bug and that was never going to change. She picked her book up and climbed off the swing, squeezed my shoulder and shuffled inside. Our mother had died while having her and left us boys and a newborn little girl with Dad, a guy who was a hard worker and an all-round good man, but had no clue how to raise a little girl or cope with losing the one woman who’d brought him to his knees. Hell, he had no clue how to keep on going after Mom died. So he packed us up and moved us out to the ranch. Not even two years later, he was with Mom thanks to a nasty kick to the head from a stallion he was training.

Our family had always been into training horses; they were beautiful creatures, but damn if they weren’t strong and on occasion unpredictable. An animal to be respected, once in a while, you’d find that one horse you connected with and she’d be your best friend for life. I pushed off the chair and made my way to the stables where my girl was. I’d been given Gypsy on my tenth birthday as a gift from Gramps. He’d told me every boy needed a good horse and this one, ‘she’ll be good to you.’ He was right too. She was getting up there in age now, so she didn’t go out often, but damn if she hadn’t always been right by me when I needed her most.

“Hey, old girl,” I called when I got to her stable door. She lifted her head and neighed a gentle greeting before nudging my hand looking for her treat. “Hold up, I’ll get you something,” I told her, rubbing the spot near her cheek where she loved to be petted. Reaching over, I snagged a couple of carrots from the bucket I kept close by and fed them to her. “I really like this girl, Gypsy.” A small snort from her and I kept going, unloading all my thoughts on the one friend I knew I could trust. “She sort of snuck up on me. I really don’t know what it is about her, but I think I need her in my life.” She nudged my empty hand and I fed her the other carrot I’d picked up. “Maybe, it’s her sense of humor. She’s so damn gorgeous it makes me want to turn into a pansy-ass and tell her every five minutes. Simple things like washing her hair, and she acts like I’ve just moved a mountain. She’s so goddamn sweet and she gets along with Ellie-May and the boys. When she smiles. I swear to God, the angels must cry; it’s that beautiful. I mean, what’s not to lov—” I shook my head trying to dislodge the word and the feeling behind it. Gypsy nudged me hard this time and neighed at me. I looked at her; she blinked at me, and then dropped her head.

“Ah, shit,” I cursed when realization sunk in. I dropped down on the stacked hay bales behind me and put my head in my hands. “I love her. Holy shit. I do. I love her.” I pulled my head back up and looked over at Gypsy who was now completely disinterested. “This week is gonna be a head fuck,” I noted aloud. I stood up, moving to the barn doors and wandered out to the lake where Amelia and I had spent some of our time together while she was here.

X X X

Gravel crunching under tires had my head popping up from the book I’d pinched off Ellie a few hours ago. I moved off the chair I was stretched out in, and made my way outside to see a bright red, obnoxious looking convertible pull up. A lanky guy with a massive bald spot flung the door open and started yelling, “Amelia, Amelia!”

“What the fucking hell?” I heard Austin curse from behind me. I ignored him and stomped toward the front door to find out just what this guy thought he was doing and why he was looking for my girl.

“Amelia!” he was still yelling, because apparently, if she was here, she was deaf.