Montana Hearts by Darlene Panzera

to answer my question?” he teased.
    â€œNo,” she said, and let out a small laugh. “I’m not.”
    Well, he didn’t exactly win her endorsement, but it was a start. He glanced at the three figures standing off to their right as he and Delaney passed by. Ryan Tanner had his arm around Bree and beside them a young brown-­haired boy played with a pack of black-­and-­white border collie pups. They all looked so content, so happy—­that is, until Ryan caught sight of him. His cousin froze and held his gaze for a long moment until Jace finally looked away.
    Bree had said his cousins meant to apologize for giving him such a cold reception, but so far . . . they hadn’t. And Jace wasn’t sure they ever would.
    â€œHave you ever had someone hold a grudge against you for something that wasn’t your fault?” Jace muttered.
    To his surprise, Delaney nodded. “Yeah,” she said, and let out a sigh. “My father.”
    He didn’t know what she meant by that, but didn’t ask, fearing he’d ruin the progress they’d already made. But maybe in time, if she continued to talk to him, she’d tell him.
    Delaney entered the stable first and greeted the vet as if he were an old friend. “I wrapped his leg with some of the special herbs you gave me for some of our other horses,” she said, bending down beside him as he removed the gauze around Rio’s lower leg.
    â€œI see that,” the vet replied. “Great job, Del, as always.”
    Jace drew close and gave Rio an affectionate gentle scratch behind an ear. “How’s it look?”
    â€œBetter each time I see him,” the vet reported. “I won’t need to come out again unless there’s a problem.” Then after giving Delaney a wink, he added, “He’s being well cared for.”
    After the veterinarian left, Jace helped Delaney fill the grain buckets so when the other horses who spent most of their daylight hours out in the pasture were brought in for the night, their dinner would be ready for them.
    â€œWhy didn’t you become a vet?” Jace asked, scooping a measured amount of grain into the last bucket and closing the stall door.
    Delaney pressed her lips together and didn’t reply.
    â€œAnother bad subject?” he asked, searching her face for a sign.
    â€œThe two are tied together,” she said, and dragged a hose over to start filling secondary buckets with water.
    Jace figured that was all he was going to get out of her, but then she continued. “You see, I failed chemistry.”
    He shook his head to indicate he didn’t understand, and truly he didn’t. He thought they had great chemistry together—­when she let her guard down.
    â€œI’m not good at math either—­equations, formulas, or any kind of measurements.” Her gaze drifted toward the grain they’d just measured out. “That’s why I use a scoop. It’s premeasured.”
    â€œMath just happens to be my strong suit. I’m usually pretty good at putting two and two together.” He took the hose from her hands to take over the watering. “I could teach you.”
    â€œIt’s too late now,” Delaney said, and shrugged. “I don’t have time to go back to school. I’d been going to the University of Southern California until my chemistry professor gave me a big fat F . My roommate thought a trip to Las Vegas would cheer me up. I’m not impulsive and I don’t like to gamble, but that night I was too upset to care. The next thing I know—­” She broke off and frowned.
    â€œWhat?” Jace prompted. “You woke up with a hangover?”
    â€œNo, something worse,” Delaney grumbled under her breath. “We’d met these guys and one of them took an instant liking to me, and somehow convinced me to enter one of those little chapels that stay open all night