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And he hadn’t asked her to ride into his defense, but he sure liked it that she had. He liked it maybe a little too much, he thought—and had to remind himself that he was sitting here surrounded by his family. And had already told her that he couldn’t take this any further with her. Not the opportune time to notice just how beautiful she was.

So, naturally, Dallas thought of nothing else.

Cat and Wilder headed out before it got too late. Tennessee and Finn got into a conversation about some sports team they both appeared to have passionate feelings about. Raleigh spent far too much time talking to Matilda about his deep feelings on the treatment of horses, which Dallas was pretty sure he did indeed hold dear. The man was all about those horses. But he doubted very much that he was bringing that up to Matilda for any reason but to get under her skin a little. Helena was sitting with Ruthie, telling her all about the coffee business and her dreams of expanding to a second, mobile coffee truck in the spring.

Ruthie looked like she fit right in. She’d looked that way all those summers ago, too, but back then Dallas had hated that. He didn’t want to belong here himself, so he sure as hell hadn’t wanted Ruthie to be so easily embraced.

She’d liked it too much here. He hadn’t wanted her to think that he would ever move back here.

More excellent decisions on his part, Dallas thought, his eyes on her as she nodded along with whatever Helena was saying. When now he thought he’d give anything to go back in time to that summer, come here, and stay.

Maybe that would have saved them.

He wasn’t all that surprised when his mother and Peyton came out of the kitchen looking like they’d been plotting. They probably had been. He was even less surprised when Jenny came straight across the room and took the seat next to his. He assumed Peyton was going to come over and sit on his other side so they could flank him, but instead, she went and sat down with Helena too. Then they were both talking to Ruthie, who seemed to get warmer and bubblier by the minute. Coffee, Cowboy Point, and what appeared to be a passionate discussion between Peyton and Helena about whether or not warm fruit—meaning, pies—were delicious or disgusting.

“I think when people talk about warm fruit, that sounds gross,” Ruthie said, in a very diplomatically neutral tone. “On the other hand, I sure do like apple pie with a whole lot of vanilla ice cream. So I guess I can’t pick a side in this debate.”

Dallas really should have kept himself from smiling at her that way. It was too revealing. Especially when his mother was sitting next to him, watching him much too closely.

“Honey,” Jenny began.

Dallas shook his head. “I don’t need a pep talk. Or an intervention.”

“I didn’t come here for either,” his mother said, with a sniff. “I did think that maybe I could check in with my son, who I would think would be having an interesting time of it, simply because his estranged wife turned up on his doorstep. Having nothing at all to do with the memory loss involved. Or the fact that he’s been brooding about that marriage for the better part of the past decade.”

Dallas slid her a look. “This sounds a lot like you trying to mind my business, Mom.”

The room was happy, and noisy, but in a good way. Because this family was happier and noisier, these days. The new in-laws—even Wilder, who couldn’t help being a Carey—made things better. Or drew heat away from old fissures and wounds, maybe.

But really, it was the Patricks. Some folks wouldn’t be able to tolerate a cheating husband’s second family, much less welcome them with open arms. Dallas was glad every day that his mother and Peyton had decided to be friends instead. And the longer the Patricks stuck around, the more Dallas found it hard to imagine that he’d ever not known this part of his family.

And that was funny too, especially with Ruthie back. He remembered too well how deeply he felt about his family then, because he’d wanted to stay as far away from them as possible. Not because he had anything against his mother or his siblings, but because being here had always made him too aware of the things his father had been willing to do without.

Namely, them. Jenny and Tennessee and Cat and yes, Dallas too.

Now, if he thought about his father at all, he felt sorry for him. What a waste of a life. What a waste of two lives, really. The one he’d had here and the one he’d had with Peyton.

Dallas couldn’t relate. He was still trying to survive the life he’d given up.

But none of these were things he wanted to talk about with Jenny. And especially not while Ruthie was not a dream he had anymore, but a living and breathing woman who was sitting only a few feet away.

Just casually shining brighter than the whole damn lighthouse up the hill.

“I just think—” his mother began, in that particular voice she used when she was getting ready to have a real talk.

“She’s been here one night,” Dallas reminded his mother, quietly. But firmly. “There have been a lot of revelations already. It’s hard to say where her head is on any of this. And no, none of this has jogged her memory. So as far as I can tell, she’s just being a polite stranger, putting up with the whims of all these people she doesn’t remember and she feels no connection to.” He turned his head and looked at his mother straight on. “I’m not going to push her to do anything.”

“You don’t have to push,” Jenny countered. “But I don’t think it’s the worst thing in the world to show her how devoted you are to her. That’s maybe something she wouldn’t be able to hear if she could remember everything that went down between you two.”

Lie, in other words. Dallas wasn’t going to do that.

“No,” was all he said.

“Dallas—”

He wasn’t going to argue. Instead, he leaned closer and pressed his shoulder to hers, and that cut her off.

“Mom,” he said. “You can’t fix this.”