Fiona Stevens looked at her haggard expression in the mirror before opening the medicine cabinet. Life had not gone as she had planned, she thought, releasing a deep sigh as she reached for the liniment cream to rub on her bruises.

She had not planned to spend her life working a ranch, mucking stalls, and taming horses. She placed her hands on the sink and bowed her head as she fought tears one more time. All she seemed to do lately was fight tears.

The ranch was understaffed, and as the woman in charge and the only woman on staff, Fiona felt that no one was ever on her side. She was alone in a sea of cowboys who believed that her father should not have left her in charge. Every day was a battle for control, and as a naturally shy person, it was a stressful existence.

Once again, Fiona's despondent attitude quickly turned to anger that was directed at herself. She was an adult. If her parents could do this, she could do this!

'But your parents had each other,' a little voice in her head reminded her. It was the same little voice that liked to sneak up on her at night and remind her that she was alone and no one was coming to save her.

Mad at herself and the world, Fiona slammed the medicine cabinet, causing the mirror to crack.

She jumped, and her eyes widened in fear when she saw a man reflected in the mirror behind her.

With her heart beating erratically, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath as she thought that she had finally snapped and lost her mind. Her loneliness had conjured up the one dream that had been constant in her life.

Henry Mercer.

"Careful, that's seven years bad luck," the deep warm voice said, causing her to jump again.

Fiona spun around and saw that he was still standing in the doorway, his ballcap in his hand. He wasn't a figment of her imagination. She swallowed hard as they stared at each other while the silence between them stretched on for what felt like an eternity.

Henry looked as handsome and dangerous as ever. His dark eyes watched her from a tan face covered in a shaggy beard. His dark hair was a little unkempt and made him look younger than his thirty-six years. He was wearing a pair of old jeans and a t-shirt that showed off his muscles.

A memory of Henry the last time she had seen him popped in her mind. He had been clean-cut and wearing the dress blues of the Navy. It had been at her grandmother's memorial service, and Fiona had done her best to avoid him. Her tongue-tied self hadn't a clue how to talk to the devastating man, and she still didn't as she continued to stare at him silently.

"I'm so deep in bad luck, what's a little more?" she asked, ending long-drawn-out silence. She had taken so long to respond it was now an awkward reply, but then awkward was her life.

"Your father said you might need a hand around here. I have some time to help. He also told me where the key was in case I got in and you weren't around." Henry's deep voice was calm and matter of fact, stating the answer to the questions that she should have asked first.

Damn it!

Fiona didn't know what to say. She did need the help, and he was the answer to a prayer, but she didn't want Henry to see her floundering as she tried to survive another day.

Needing to focus on something while she thought of what she wanted most, she turned her back to him and unscrewed the cap to the liniment cream, wrinkling her nose at the foul smell.

She dipped her finger in the cold pudding-like substance and lifted her white tank-top slightly to rub it on her side, wincing as she touched the bruise.

"Did you get thrown?" Henry asked as he hung his hat on the bathroom doorknob and walked toward her. Before Fiona had realized what had happened, he had lifted her shirt more to see the bruise where it wrapped around her back. "Did you break any ribs?"

Fiona was frozen like a deer in headlights as his large hands wrapped around her sides and lower rib cage while he poked and prodded for broken bones. He was all business while she was quickly becoming a quivering mess.

Fiona knew she should knock his hand away or step out of his reach, but she was torn between heaven and hell as his touch moved up and down her abdomen. She refused to tell him that the worst of it was on her bottom.

"Yes, I was thrown," she confirmed, watching as Henry reached for some cream and helped her where she couldn't reach. Once again, she thought she should stop him, but she was too mesmerized by his touch to do anything. He was rubbing her lower back and had noticed how far down the bruise went, his hands automatically following the injury, but as he reached the waistband of her shorts, Fiona finally jumped to the side.

"I can get the rest," she said between clenched teeth.

Henry grinned. "Sorry if I overstepped." Henry held up his hands and stepped away.

"It's fine. Thanks for helping." Fiona looked at him once more in the mirror. "How long can you stay?" She needed his help, and sending him away would be foolish, and while she was many things, she was not foolish.

"At least a month, maybe a little longer." He shrugged.

Fiona nodded, placing the cream on the counter, then turned toward him. It was time to be tough again.

"You can stay in the house tonight, but tomorrow you'll have to move into the bunkhouse." The last thing she needed was a bunch of cowboys thinking that she had called in a man to reinforce her.

"I understand." Henry nodded.

"I don't think you do." Fiona shook her head. "This isn't about personal appearances." She gave a self-mocking smile that turned to a grimace. "The men would probably all be relieved if you stayed in the house, especially since they love to talk about how much I need to get laid."

Henry's expression remained neutral at her crude word. It was the men's word, not hers.

Fiona met his eyes. What came next was going to hurt, but she knew she could trust him, and he would get the lay of the land soon enough. "I don't want them to think that a man had to be called in to take over or back me up. If you stay, you will have to be treated like all of the other cowboys here." Fiona watched him absorb her words. She might be giving too much away, but she didn't see that she had another choice.

Henry nodded as he reached for his hat. "Which room is mine?" he asked, getting the point and finishing the conversation.

"The last door on the left." Fiona swallowed hard. Help had arrived, but she didn't think it would do anything but create more heartache. She cared too much about what he thought about her.

*******

Henry forced himself to turn away from Fiona and pick up his duffle. Then without looking back, he walked toward the room she had assigned him. He heard her bedroom door close before his did.

Fiona had always been intense and as intimidating as hell. Her silent stare still made him feel like a self-conscious kid.

The room had two twin beds and looked comfortable enough. He didn't bother to turn on the light as he threw his stuff onto a chair in the corner. It was a full moon, and the light was more than enough to see by as his eyes adjusted. Plus, another light might alert others that he was here.

Henry walked over to the window and looked out over the rolling hills of Texas. The moonlight cast shadows making the valleys between the hills look like fathomless pits.

Fiona was still beautiful, but she looked tired and skinny. Her thin tank top and short shorts did nothing to hide her curves, and he knew she was strong by the muscles that played under her skin. The woman was more ripped than some of the men who served with him on the Teams. Henry gave a slight smile as he thought she could probably give them all a run for their money.

Those muscles weren't from working out, they were from hard labor, and he had also noticed her red and chapped hands. The bruises on her pale flesh had bothered him more than he cared to admit.

Fiona Stevens had always been a quiet mystery. Her long hair was so blond it was almost white, and she had the Stevens family's famous blue eyes, which could cut through a man without a word being said.

Henry smiled as he thought about all of the times she had cut him with those eyes over the years. He had always tried to be friendly with her, but the way she looked at him reminded him of the way a scientist would look at a bug under a microscope.

However, it sounded as if she had a hard time being taken seriously by the men who worked for her based on the little bit that she had just told him.

If Fiona were giving the men the cold shoulder and intimidating them, they would say and do anything to try and get under her skin to remind her she was human, just like them.

Henry stripped and pulled back the covers on the bed.

He'd bet a hundred bucks that when Fiona had fallen today, she had gotten right back up on the horse as if it had never happened, but she probably would have been better off showing that she had been hurt.

Maybe he could help in more ways than one. After all, he did understand the dynamics of a male team since he led one. Perhaps he could teach Fiona what he had learned over the years. It would depend on how receptive she was to what he had to say.

She hadn't kicked him out, and that was a good start.

**** Welcome back to my many friends! Please remember, I post one chapter a night between 8 PM and 10 PM U.S. eastern time. There may be a few times I will post a little later, but if I am unable to post a chapter at all I will post to let you know that. Happy reading and thanks for your continued support!