Cal barked out a laugh. “Helicopterkittens?”

“Well, what the fuck else do you call baby helicopters? Copties?”

“I don’t know, but helicopter kittens implies that I’m a cat, does it not?”

She growled. “Whatever. Still think you should go home to your pregnant helicopter and leave me be. I’m fine by myself.”

“I can see that, but I’m also happy to help.”

She huffed some more, but stopped arguing with him.

Like he figured, they were finished with all the stalls in probably half the time it would have taken her if she’d done it just herself.

They had to pause to bring other horses back in and take new horses out, then once the horse stalls were done, they went to the goat barn and mucked those stalls.

Mostly, she was quiet. She didn’t start any conversations with him, but she also seemed resigned to the fact that he wasn’t going anywhere until the work was done.

Truth be told, even though he usually enjoyed being by himself, Cal was lonely.

He didn’t want children—was probably too old anyway, at forty-three—and he hadn’t had a serious girlfriend since his first year of flight school. After that, his life got too chaotic. He joined the Navy, then he was recruited to the SEALs and special forces. He didn’t have time for a relationship. And he also didn’t think it would be fair to force a woman to be in a relationship with him when he was rarely home for more than a week every few months. And when he wasn’t home, he was off doing dangerous things.

Sure, he hooked up and had the odd weekend or week-long fling, but nothing that lasted. Nothing with anymore depth than a highway puddle.

But now that he wasn’t working those dangerous jobs anymore, just flying Bella when someone needed him, he had time. He had the time to devote to someone and a relationship.

And he wanted one.

“So how long are you in Colorado?” he asked as they filled up the water troughs for the goats.

“Until my uncles are back,” she said, scratching behind one of the goat’s ears when it stuck its head between the slats of the pen and rubbed its face against Hannah’s thigh.

“Then where do you go?”

“Back home.”

Oh man, it was like pulling teeth to get this woman to open up.

And normally, he wouldn’t really give a shit. He was a closed book with glued pages and an elephant sitting on top of the book for good measure, but something about Hannah made him want to get deeper than just a puddle on the highway. Maybe it was that comment earlier about how she thought she was meant to be alone? Or her stubbornness and determination to take care of the entire ranch herself, but whatever it was, he was drawn to her. He wanted to know more.

“And home is?” Asher and Nate hadn’t told him much about Hannah, just that she was their niece, from their father’s first marriage, and she was Triss’s (Asher’s wife) best friend.

“Manhattan,” she said. “I live and work there.”

“Oh wow! From the big city to the country.”

Her brows lifted like he was telling her a joke she’d heard six million times before.

He’d never had to work this hard to get a woman’s attention in his life.

And for some strange reason, he liked it.

“So you’re like what they call a day-walker, huh?” she asked, her eyes roaming his body from the front of his jeans up to the tip of his red hair he kept slightly longer than he probably should. It was his one form of rebellion against all his years of service. He grew his hair out as soon as he retired from active duty. It curled slightly around his ears, and when he let it gettoolong, a curl fell over his forehead. And right now, it wastoolong.

“A what?” he asked, cocking a smile.

“Like a ginger that can tan. A day-walker. You won’t burn like the pasty gingers.”

He snorted and rolled his eyes. “I guess that’s true. Though, I’ve never heard the term day-walker.”