Her Rancher Bodyguard. Brenda Minton

      This did not fit those plans.

      “I would say ‘cat got your tongue.’” He glanced past her to the cat in her room. “But that’s pretty cliché.”

      “Um, I’m just...” She couldn’t speak.

      “Overwhelmed?”

      “Maybe a little,” she admitted.

      “The cat’s name is Sheba. As in queen of. She lives up to it. And she wouldn’t chase a mouse if it crawled across her paws. Let me walk you downstairs. There’s safety in numbers. And there’s probably some breakfast in the kitchen. We usually eat after we’ve fed the livestock.”

      “You’ve already fed the livestock? What time is it?”

      He laughed. “Just after seven. And yes, we’ve fed, pulled a calf and gathered eggs.”

      “Pulled a calf where?”

      He gave her a sideways glance and grinned. “Pulled meaning delivered. The calf wasn’t coming out on his own so we helped the mama with the delivery. There’s nothing like starting your morning with a new life. Which I guess is why I’m premed.”

      While they’d been talking he’d led her downstairs and through the house to the big country kitchen, where it seemed half the county had congregated for breakfast.

      Boone’s mom, Maria, was standing at the stove. Two young women who looked identical were setting the table. Another sister, a little older than them, was at the sink, auburn hair falling down to veil one side of her face. A toddler on pudgy legs, her curly blond hair in pigtails, was playing with bowls and wooden spoons.

      “Welcome to our zoo,” Jase Wilder said with a big smile that included everyone in the room. “The twinkies over there are Esmerelda and Alejandra. Better known to all as Essie and Allie, named after our grandmothers. They’re not as identical as they like to pretend. In the kitchen is Mama Maria, whom you met last night. Michaela and her daughter, Molly. And my lovely sister Janie.”

      Janie with the auburn hair shot him a look and said nothing. Jase smiled back and answered, “Yeah, I know, Lucas is your favorite.”

      “Kayla, I hope we didn’t wake you.” Maria Wilder pointed at her twin daughters. “Those two can’t keep quiet for anything.”

      The sister Janie half smiled her direction. “They’re excited because you’re staying here. And you know all about fashion. They want to enter a twin pageant in San Antonio.”

      “Don’t let them push you around,” Michaela warned with a half tilt of her mouth. She appeared to be in her midtwenties and as she spoke she reached to pick up her little girl. “If you’re going to survive, you have to stand your ground and become great friends with the word no.”

      Kayla would have answered but the conversation was interrupted by the sound of the front door closing and voices raised in discussion, and then Boone along with a younger man in his late teens, and possibly their father, entered the kitchen.

      The older Wilder, gray haired and thin, pushed a walker. His steps were slow and steady. He glanced up at her and grinned. She saw the resemblance between him and his eldest son.