Ground Training

Chapter One

ACE HARGRAVES TOSSED another hay bale onto an already tall stack of them in the barn. It was the height of the afternoon, and the temperature had peaked. The mid-August heat was no joke. Sweat covered Ace's face, and he lifted his shirt to wipe it away. He didn't mind hard work. He welcomed it. Besides, the mindless task of unloading hay bales kept his thoughts off other things.

He brushed his leather glove-covered hands together, knocking away stray pieces of hay before heading out of the barn to the trailer full of bales still awaiting him. With a quick double-check, Ace made sure no one was close enough to get a good look at him before he grabbed two bales with each hand, lifting them with ease.

He'd been at the task most of the day and had already unloaded four trailers' worth of hay, but he was fine and could keep going for hours before he'd begin to slow. He could have gotten all four trailer loads of hay unloaded in an hour or so had he been alone on the ranch.

It was one of the perks of being more than human. It was also one of the curses. Others tended to notice when you did things like lifting multiple hay bales simultaneously in each hand without effort.

Unlike some supernaturals he knew, Ace had been human at one point in his life, so he had that to draw on for inspiration when he was pretending items were heavier than they were or that he was exhausted from overexerting himself. Some supernaturals were so good at passing for humans that they could fool everyone, other supernaturals included. But he'd met some supernaturals who had no clue how to pass as human. At times, that was comical. Other times, it was downright disturbing.

He missed being around others like himself. Missed being able to be himself and not having to always mind his strength and speed for fear a human might see and realize he was something more. His strength and stamina were far greater than a regular person's, and could easily tip off others that something was amiss. He didn't need anyone digging too deep into him or his past.

While he was using the assumed name of Joe Barnes, a deep dive into him would prove the identity had only existed on paper for three years. He was good at creating fake identities, but there was no point spending a bunch of money on it if he didn't have to. Right now, this identity would hold so long as no one looked too hard at it. If an individual dug deep enough, they'd trip the alarms the government had in place to track and find Ace and the men like him.

The Outcasts.

The last fucking thing Ace needed was to have men in black sniffing around the area. It wouldn't take them long to find him if they did. He'd already had one too many close calls over the last few decades and didn't want to chance another.

Ace's last encounter with the men in black ended with his narrow escape and him needing medical attention. He'd spent two weeks in the basement of an off-book facility with questionable health standards and an even more questionable medical staff. The kind that left him with scars to this date on injuries that should have healed over quickly, considering he was a supernatural.

He was fairly sure they'd gotten their degrees from some random dude on a street corner. Not any accredited university. He'd have been pissed about their shitty medical attention, but the alternative was death or, even worse, capture.

Never again would he be a lab rat for anyone.

"Been there. Done that," he muttered. "Got the ability to shift into a horse to prove it."

Lying low was the best course of action for him, at least for a while longer. Working at the ranch allowed him to do just that. He could stay active and fit since the work was physical and collect a paycheck, even if it was small. The job came with free room and board as well as meals. He had a good amount of cash stashed away, but he didn't want to touch that, if at all possible. It was there in the event he couldn't work.

Being a ranch hand kept him busy and his mind off the fact that he was a wanted man. The government had a price on his head, and if it wasn't them looking for him, there were countless others who wanted to get their hands on a living, breathing, genetically altered super soldier.

Ace snorted as he tossed the hay bales onto the stack and straightened them. He was hardly a "super" anything. Hell, he was what the government had labeled an Outcast.

A defective model.

One of their broken toys.

He wasn't one of their perfect Immortal Operative (I-Op) golden boys who had been genetically altered, and he wasn't a natural-born supernatural like most of the Paranormal Security and Intelligence Operatives (PSI-Op). He was an ugly stain on their secret testing program. Something they wanted removed—for good.

Their genetic testing hadn't gone as planned with his group of test subjects. Sure, Ace had taken to the DNA manipulation like a duck to water, but the results hadn't been optimal. The goal had been unstoppable soldiers. Men who would be sent into battle and be able to handle anything thrown their way. Ultimate weapons that could help tip outcomes in favor of whatever régime they served.

The government and its scientists thought Ace would end up being a valuable military asset. Someone able to do their dirty work for years to follow. Instead, they'd turned him into something other than human. Not the prized possession they'd been hoping for.

Like many of their test subjects, Ace had proven to be a letdown. A failure of epic proportions. They'd wanted men with traits that had been carefully selected from the animal kingdom and extras they'd thought up. Men who had perfect control over that side of themselves and who weren't prone to physical and mental breakdowns.

Around the time of Ace's induction into the program, the scientists had been going through a phase of wanting to create shifters that were outside the box. Beyond their original types like wolves and cat-shifters. His group of soldiers ended up with far more variety than previous testing groups. There were men who could turn into crocodiles, alligators, Komodo dragons, massive snakes, buffalos, gorillas, elephants, kangaroos, whales, squids, sharks, bears, bulls, and more. Hell, Ace even knew a guy who could turn into a giant fucking turtle.

The sky was the limit when it came to shifter types.

Ace's body had taken to the introduction of animal DNA into his system. The issue was that he'd taken too well to more than one of the strains that had been introduced to him. From his understanding, they'd been aiming at making him into something other than a horse. He hadn't been aware that somewhere in his family line, there had been horse-shifters—men who could change easily into horses and back again.

It had come as a great shock to all involved when Ace had broken through the restraints that held him to the exam table and shifted into a massive horse. One that was bigger than any normal horse, not to mention a hybrid of various kinds of them.

He'd once heard a scientist whisper that Ace reminded him of a horse that would be seen pulling the devil's carriage should that ever occur. Had that been the whole of it and Ace been left a horse- shifter, things might have still worked out for him within the Immortal Ops Program. But his body had accepted certain traits from other animals. Enough that they interfered with his ability to control his rage or shifts—at least to start with.

Then there were the nightmares.

At one point, they'd been so frequent and so vivid that he'd been afraid to close his eyes. For several years following his initial testing, he'd needed to be heavily sedated for large chunks of time because he'd been a danger to himself and others. In the early days, he'd lost control and accidentally trampled two of the men involved in the testing. At the time, he'd been devastated that he could do such a thing without remembering it.

Now that so much time had passed from his testing days, he had the gift of hindsight and the knowledge of what really went on back then. Now, he wished he'd have trampled more of the guards and scientists involved.

Hell, all of them.

Mostly, he wished he'd never agreed to be part of the testing to begin with. That he'd declined the offer and lived his seemingly dull life. He'd have died of old age already, but his life would have probably been filled with laughter and love. Not the desolate void he called an existence now. The constant need to reinvent himself and hide his true identity. The constant moving from place to place. The lack of anything real when it came to relationships. It was barely safe for him to form a friendship, let alone fall in love. Not that there had ever been a woman he'd wanted something more with.

Between the dreams that still haunted him to this day, though not as often, and the control he clung to by a string, it was best he remained tucked away from others as much as possible. That he be the grumpy recluse others saw him as. Not the outgoing, fun-loving man he'd once been.

Ace, when fully shifted, stood twenty-three hands high, which was downright ridiculous, and had a coat of fur that was a deep, dark brown—so much so that it almost looked black depending on the light—and he had white spots on his hindquarters. His mane was dark brown as well. He could blend, for the most part, when he was like that, but when his emotions were too high, his eyes went from dark brown to fiery red.

Demon eyes.

As Ace thought about the events of long ago, his arms began to itch and burn slightly. A sign that he'd shift forms if he didn't concentrate and keep himself calm. He lacked control. A curse that seemed to affect all the men who had been part of his testing group. Some were worse than others.

The heavy scent of hay and horses with the added trace scent of mountain lion left Ace sneezing. His inner beast was on edge. The smell of mountain lion, which was more common than most thought in Colorado, always left him that way. So far, the mountain lions in the area would get close enough to the ranch for him to catch their scent but had yet to come close to the barns or the horses. He sneezed again and shook his head as if that would help to prevent it from happening again.

Twisting around, Ace prepared to go to the trailer to retrieve more hay bales. He stopped fast, nearly tripping over a child who looked to be about three or four years old. Ace was no kid expert. Despite seeing her almost daily for months, he had never asked her age. He went out of his way to avoid interacting with the miniature human. She seemed to go out of her way to do the opposite.

Charlotte, or "Charley," was the daughter of the man who owned the ranch—Samuel Eyres— and she was a total nuisance. Samuel had been great about hiring Ace with no paperwork, references, or forms of identification. He took it on faith that Ace was named Joe Barnes. He paid Ace in cash as if he knew Ace wouldn't want to attempt cashing a check. There was no record of Ace working there that he was aware of. Samuel never asked him to fill out anything or for references.

Samuel was in his mid-thirties and had a thriving horse ranch, complete with boarding and breeding programs, to show for his hard work and efforts. He was well respected in the area and known to be fair. His stables were also known to house some of the best lines of horses in the area. They got along well enough and sometimes even sat around having a beer together while most of the other ranch hands went to town to drink at the bars.

Ace liked the man but thought Samuel had a way to go when it came to bringing up a child on the ranch. The kid was always underfoot or lurking about, trying to get close to the horses boarded there, along with the wild mustangs that passed through to be tamed and sold.

Charley could often be found having in-depth, one-sided conversations with any horse on the property at any given moment. Ace had once seen her conversing with birds, acting like they were having full-blown discussions. She'd even argued with a hawk once over its meal choice—a field mouse she'd named Pockets. Then there was the turtle she was convinced was her best friend for about a week.

It was okay if she wanted to sit around having long talks with turtles and birds. It was an entirely other matter when she tried to do so with the horses. Especially the wild ones and the ones with questionable temperaments. They weren't safe for a child her age to be around unsupervised, no matter how versed in horses the kid was. It was too easy for an accident to happen. She was small. One kick could kill her. She could be trampled with ease.

For as much of a nuisance as Charley was, Ace didn't want the kid hurt or dead. He just wanted her to find somewhere else to play. Somewhere far away from him.

Annoyance simmered below the surface as he stared at the little girl. Ace had spoken to Samuel about keeping a better eye on her and how she could end up seriously injured or worse if left to roam freely around the ranch. Yet here she was.

She held an ice cream sandwich in one hand and stared up at him with royal blue eyes. Her light brown hair hung in two long braids. She wore a pair of jean overalls and a T-shirt with the ranch logo printed on the front. She was barefoot, and her toenails had chipped bright pink polish on them.

Charley had spent nearly an hour painting her toenails the other day while she sat on a blanket outside the pen Ace had been working in with one of the new mustangs. The smell of the polish had bothered him, giving him a slight headache, which hadn't helped when she'd spent that hour talking "at" him and singing softly, trying to encourage him to join in the sing-along. That made his headache worse. When she'd tried to convince him to let her paint his toenails, he'd insisted she go and find somewhere else to be.

"You lost?" he asked, his gaze stern. He really didn't have the time or patience to deal with her today.

"Nope," she said as she continued to stare up at him.

"You sure? Because I thought I said you couldn't hang out around me. I'm not your babysitter," he supplied, his voice gruff.

A mischievous smile covered her face. "I'm not a baby, Barnes. So you ain't got to do no sitting. And I ain't hanging out around you. I'm here for the horses. They say you smell 'off.' What does that mean? Do you stink? I mean, you do smell like sweat a lot, and this barn."

"You got all that from them?" he asked with a huff, ignoring the dig about him smelling like sweat and the barn. The kid always smelled like sweets of some sort—mostly caramel apples and spiced sugar —but that changed depending on what she was eating or smuggling in her pockets. She wasn't really one to talk.

She nodded. "Got it all from them."

He glanced past Charley at the open barn doors and tapped into his shifter hearing in an attempt to locate the adult who should have been with her. Samuel had a staff member whose job was to watch over the kid. However, that person kept changing since Charley was a handful. She had made chasing off nannies an art form.

"Want me to go get you an ice cream sandwich too?" she asked. "I got a whole bunch of them."

He groaned. "No. I don't like ice cream."

The look on her face said she couldn't wrap her mind around anyone not liking ice cream. "Really?"

"Really," he said. "I don't actually like sweet things."

Horror showed on her face.

He chuckled. "You all right?"

"Never met anyone who didn't like sweets," she replied, shaking her head, staring at him as if she wasn't sure she should believe him.

He shrugged. "Not my thing."

"Want to go look at the new mustangs in the pen?" she asked.

"No, I have work to do, and you're to stay away from them," he warned. "They're wild still and could hurt you."

She shook her head. "They ain't gonna hurt me."

"Charley."

"Barnes," she returned with a slow blink that said she more than understood she was trying his patience.

"Charley," Ace said, squaring his shoulders. "We've had this talk."

"You do a lot of talking," she shot back. "I don't do much listening."

"Don't I know it?" He groaned. "Where is your father?"

She shrugged and lifted an arm in the process. "Where is your guitar?"

"I'm working, so it's in the bunkhouse, and that's where it's staying for now," he stated, already knowing she'd start in on him about playing and singing for her. He wasn't in the mood.

"I could get it for you," she offered. "Then you could play, and we could sing. Daddy could start a bonfire. It will be fun."

"Charley, what did I say?"

She opened her mouth no doubt to protest.

He grunted.

She closed her mouth.

It was then Ace noticed a temporary tattoo on her upper arm. Part of it was rubbed off, so he could only see part of the logo and the word dynamics. "What's that?"

She offered a puzzled look. "You have tattoos. Don't you know what they look like on folks?"

He bit back a snort. "Yes. I understand that it's a tattoo. I want to know what it's a tattoo of."

"Oh." She licked her ice cream, her focus on his arm. "Is that a horse?"

He glanced at the tattoo in question and nodded. "It is."

"What's that one mean?" she asked, touching another that was from one of the many wars he'd served in.

"Means I was a soldier," he said, emotions lodging in his throat.

"Really?" she asked.

He nodded.

"You got more of them, but your shirt covers them," she said.

"Yep. Now, about yours. What's it of ?" he asked.

Charley studied the tattoo on her arm. "I don't know. It's from the sheet of tattoos I got at the doctor's office. It was these or a lollipop." She paused a moment before patting her front pocket. She waggled her brows. "I got both. Figured they stuck me two times with needles… I was taking two things. Seemed fair. Don't tell Daddy though. 'Cause, well, I might have just taken the lollipop. Is that stealing?"

Ace tensed as concern for the child filled him. He wasn't exactly sure where the emotion came from and didn't like it one bit. "Doctor's office? You sick or something?"

"If I say I'm sick, will you not be mad at me for stealing?" she asked.

He stared at her. "Charley, I don't really care if you took a lollipop or not."

She offered a bright smile. "Neat. And no, I ain't sick. I gotta start school soon, and Daddy said the school needed me to get a musical."

Ace did his best to follow what Charley told him, but it made zero sense. "A musical? What does a musical have to do with starting school?"

She licked her melting ice cream more. "That's what I said. Daddy told me to stop making a fuss about needing to get poked with needles and let the nice lady steal all my blood. And boy oh boy, Barnes, did she take a lot of my blood."

It dawned on Ace what she'd meant by musical. "Ah, you had to get a physical."

She grew quiet a moment as she pondered. "Hmm, does that have people singing in it?"

"No," he replied.

She nodded. "Yeah. That was probably it then, 'cause nobody except me was singing there. Well, that other little girl sang with me. She was with her aunt in the waiting room. We talked a lot, and Daddy promised I could play with her soon since she was visiting her aunt in town. I liked her. She had a black eye and showed me the stitches she got from falling out of a tree."

"Oh dear God, the last thing you need is an accomplice," said Ace.

"I don't know what that means, Barnes, but if you're worried you won't be my best friend anymore, don't. You'll always be my best friend," she said, patting his leg with an ice-cream-covered hand.

He groaned. "Wonderful."

"It is wonderful!" She beamed.

He grumbled about children being annoying, which only made her giggle again.

Chapter Two

ACE WAS ABOUT to tell Charley to find somewhere else to play—again—when her attention went to the horse stalls.

Tipping her head, she looked to be listening to something.

Since Ace had exceptional hearing, he knew that wasn't the case. Nothing out of the ordinary was happening with the horses.

"Charley?"

She kept her head tipped and her attention on the stalls. "Cinnamon is sad. His body hurts a lot, and he's real tired, Barnes."

He knew he was about to regret asking for details, yet he did it all the same. "Which one is Cinnamon again?"

Charley's names for the horses didn't match the names on their stalls. They never did, making it hard to follow when she talked about them. She pointed to the stall with the oldest horse in it. The name on the door read "Earl."

"You mean Earl?" asked Ace.

Charley shook her head. "He doesn't like that name. A person who ain't so nice gave it to him before he came to live here on the ranch with us when Daddy and Uncle Benat rescued him for me. He likes the name I gave him. He likes the name Cinnamon. I wanted to call him Sugarplum Fairy Sparkle Dancer, but he didn't like that so much."

Ace nearly laughed. That horse was well known for being short-tempered. It had to be pushing thirty. It had cataracts, only a few teeth, and spent most of its time being a pasture ornament. Old or not, the horse could still give a person trouble. In its prime, it had more than likely been a force to be both feared and respected. "Earl doesn't like much of anything. He's old and grumpy."

"He says you're the grumpy one. Not him. And I told you that he likes the name I gave him. Not Earl," said Charley. "I'm a good namer."

"Uh-huh," Ace said in hopes it would shut her up if he agreed. "You're a great namer. Why don't you go name blades of grass or something? You know, anything that is far from me."

She didn't budge. Instead, she looked him up and down. "Barnes isn't a good name for you. It don't fit."

"Fit?" he asked, suddenly uneasy though he wasn't sure why.

She smiled. "Buttercup is a better name."

"Do not ever call me that," he stated evenly, realizing all too late that his reaction would leave her calling him it again for sure.

She giggled. "See? You're the grumpy one. Not Cinnamon. Want to go see the new mustangs with me?"

"I just told you to stay away from that pen." He shook his head. The kid didn't listen worth a damn.

"I know. Want to help me write their names on the intake board?" she asked. Charley had spent thirty minutes the day before giving names to the wild mustangs brought in on the last roundup. She'd gifted them names such as Pudding Cup, Sweetie, Apple Pie, and Milkshake.

In Ace's opinion, none of the names that she'd given them matched their temperaments. Especially the one she'd named Sweetie. That horse was as ill- tempered as ever and wild as the day was long. He was the alpha of the bunch. He'd take some time to break in, but Ace was up to the job.

More than once, Samuel had tried to talk Ace into becoming a full-time trainer with the ranch. That was too high-profile for Ace's liking. He'd rather remain out of the public light. And he'd really rather do his job without a kid underfoot.

He grunted at Charley as her ice cream dripped onto the barn floor, but she paid it no mind.

Ace made a mental note to rinse the area with water to avoid having an ant issue later.

Charley stared at Earl's stall door again. "Can we let Cinnamon go be free now? Can he go back out there where he wants to be? Sweetie wants to go too. They could go together. Be best friends and all. Like we are, Barnes."

"Uh, I'm not your best friend," he said with a shake of his head. "You're always underfoot. And turning Earl out into the wild is not an option, and you know it."

"How come?" she asked.

"Because I said so. Go find somewhere else to be," he grunted, wanting to get back to work. "Go play with your friends or something."

She remained in place but stopped staring at Earl's stall. She returned to eating her ice cream. "I'm here with my best friend."

"Where is your father?" he asked again, wanting to give Samuel a piece of his mind. The man needed to learn how to make his kid mind. He could have sworn he once heard someone mention that children required structure. Charley had none.

She shrugged, totally unbothered by Ace's irritation. "I don't know. At breakfast this morning Uncle Benat told him them folks in white were on the back acres again. Said they were eyeing the horses Daddy has in the back pasture."

"What people in white?" asked Ace, hearing about it all for the first time. If there was a threat to the horses or the ranch, Samuel would have told Ace, wouldn't he?

"The ones Cinnamon don't like," she said, her mouth full of ice cream.

"Why doesn't Earl like them?"

"Cinnamon," she corrected.

"Sure. Him."

Charley tsked him and shook her head. "It's not a hard name, Barnes. I'll say it slower for you. Cin- na-mon. You try."

"Charley, you're wearing on my last nerve. Why would you say that Earl, erm, Cinnamon doesn't like the people in white? Who are they?"

She shrugged. "He don't trust them, Barnes. None of the rest of the horses here do either. Neither do their animals. They told me most of them are bad."

"People in white told you that they're bad?" asked Ace, his patience at their breaking point. He didn't like dealing with a child, but he hated the idea she might be in danger more. Getting straight answers from her was an issue.

"No, silly," said Charley, her voice light. "They didn't tell me that. Their animals told me not to trust them."

Something between a growl and a grunt came from him.

Charley smiled. "You sound like Uncle Benat when he's getting riled up."

"Oh, I'm beyond riled up," spat Ace. "If you're not going to be serious and you're just going to invent stories, then I don't have time to—"

"Invent stories?" she echoed, shaking her head. "But I'm not making it up. It's real. The animals told me so."

"Charley."

"Barnes," she returned, stamping her foot for emphasis. "I'm not making it up."

"Uh-huh, okay, sure. Whatever."

She calmed some. "The animals don't like them people in white. They're bad people, Barnes." Charley glanced downward. "Daddy wasn't happy when he heard about them being back again. Said he'd deal with it himself. Then he left for the day. He made me promise to stay up here, not to wander. Don't know when he'll be back. It's okay though, I got my best friend here to play with."

Ace gave her a stern look. "I'm not your friend. Go make up stories somewhere else."

"No," she returned, completely unfazed by his outburst. "And you are my best friend."

"Am not," he protested. "You're like three years old or something. We can't be best friends. I'm way too old, and you're way too young."

"I'm four, almost five," she shot back.

He groaned. He was never, ever having children of his own. Not if dealing with kids was always this hard.

She laughed.

"Where is Mrs. Bowker?" asked Ace, worried about what Charley might have done to the poor woman, especially since the woman hadn't shown up once looking for the child.

Charley got shifty-eyed quickly.

"Charley?" Ace pulled off one of his work gloves and rubbed his temple. "Is she tied up in the house like you did to Mrs. Spokes?"

Charley clutched her heart with her empty hand, smearing ice cream on her shirt as she feigned shock right before she took a bite of her ice cream sandwich. "I didn't do that," she said, her mouth full.

Ace nearly laughed. She most certainly had tied up one of her nannies. Thankfully, she'd not ratted out Ace, who had been the one to show her how to tie knots properly with rope the day before the incident. He'd simply wanted to give her a task that would keep her busy and out of his way. He had no idea the little hellion would use that knowledge to bind her nanny.

Charley lifted her hands in the air and shrugged. "I got no idea how she got tied up. Wasn't me. Maybe there were little gremlins that came and did it. Never trust a gremlin, Barnes."

"Didn't I hear your father scolding Benat about letting you watch a movie with gremlins in it the other day?" asked Ace.

Charley attempted to look innocent. "Maybe? Maybe not. Uncle Benat says I gotta learn to appreciate the classics. I don't know what that means. Do you?"

"I'd be happy if you learned to appreciate playing somewhere else," muttered Ace as he removed his other glove. "So, where is your new nanny?"

"That old goat is sleeping—again," said Charley with a growl that would make any shifter proud.

Ace's eyes widened. "You didn't give her anything to make her sleep, did you?"

"Give her something? What do you mean? Like poison?" she asked, wonder showing on her face.

Ace realized he'd just given her a new idea. Not that the kid needed anything in the way of encouragement. She was quite capable of creating mayhem all by herself. He strongly suspected she had a future filled with crime ahead of her.

Not that he was one to judge. He wasn't exactly what anyone would call law-abiding anymore. Still, Charley didn't need his help on her road to criminal masterminding.

"Do not, under any circumstance, poison her," Ace said, trying hard to drive home his point. He didn't want to hear about her poisoning anyone.

"What if she's a wicked witch or an evil queen or something?" asked Charley, taking another bite of her ice cream sandwich, which was now all over her mouth and left cheek. "We should probably poison her then, right?"

"Charley, no," he said, folding his arms across his chest.

She rattled off three additional hypothetical scenarios that could potentially result in green- lighting the use of poison.

Ace wasn't sure if he should be impressed or worried for mankind. "No. I'm serious."

She rolled her eyes dramatically and waved her free hand at him dismissively. "Relax, Barnes. I promise not to poison her."

"How about you promise not to poison anyone?"

She let out a long, drama-laced sigh. "Fine. But that's a really big promise to make. The kind you only make to your best friend."

He tipped his head, staring down at her, wondering how Samuel made it through an entire day without pulling out his hair in frustration. Then again, Charley was a lot like her father—a handful —so maybe the man saw enough of himself in her that it didn't register.

Ace had never asked where Charley's mother was, and Samuel never offered the information. Ace wasn't sure why the woman wasn't in the picture, but it was very clear Charley was being raised by a single-father ranch owner. She was a tomboy through and through.

"Where is Mrs. Bowker really at? You didn't lock her in the cellar like you did that one lady, did you?" demanded Ace. He mentally ran down the list of things Charley had done to chase off nannies to date. It was extensive, and he hadn't been working at the ranch all that long.

Charley's smile widened a second before her expression grew serious. It was evident she was working hard to keep from laughing. "I never locked nobody in the cellar. Can I help if the door shut behind and locked on its own? Bet it was gremlins then too."

"You make me very happy that I never had kids," said Ace.

She giggled. "You'll have some one day, Barnes."

Ace shook his head, stepped around her, and headed to the trailer again. He grabbed two hay bales and turned, nearly tripping over Charley again. He lifted the hay bales high, worried he'd hit her with them. "Charley."

She stared up at him. "Barnes."

"Go bother someone else," he said.

"I bother you?" she questioned.

"Yes," he snapped.

Her bottom lip jutted out as she averted her gaze. "Okay. I'll go."

Sighing, he lowered the bales carefully. He liked to think of himself as a man hardened by time and circumstance, but Charley's tears had a way of getting him to fold quickly. "Fine. You can stay, but stop following me around so closely. I could have hurt you just then. I'm big. You're little."

Excitement lit up her face. "I'll stay out of your way."

He waited for her to move.

She didn't.

"Charley."

"Barnes?" she replied.

"Move."

"Oh, right," she said, stepping to the side.

With a chuckle, he carried the bales into the barn and tossed them onto the stack. He turned around slowly, fully expecting to find Charley standing right behind him.

She wasn't there. She was standing on her tiptoes on a stool just outside of Earl's stall door, peering over the top of it at the old horse.

He'd have worried, but she was rather well known for being a climber.

"I know," she said as her shoulders slumped. "I told him you don't want to be here no more. That you hurt. He's like all grown-ups. He don't listen so great."

Ace nearly took offense.

She nodded. "Yeah, he's my best friend, but you're right. He is as stubborn as a mule, but you got his name wrong. It ain't that, it's Barnes."

Ace huffed.

A mule? Really?

Her brows drew together. "But you want to go so bad. You don't gots to be here to keep me safe."

Ace drew in a quick breath. He had to force himself to remain calm. Charley was a little kid with a big imagination. She wasn't actually in danger of doing anything more than annoying the living hell out of him.

She smiled. "Cinnamon, I got Barnes here to keep me safe. You don't gotta worry none. He's big. He won't let them take me."

While Ace more than understood she was young and that she lived in a world of make-believe, he couldn't stop the worry that crept into his gut.

You're being ridiculous. She's fine.

Charley continued chatting with the horse, and Ace returned to work, moving hay from the trailer to the stack. He was at the trailer, grabbing more bales, when he heard a rifle discharging. Concern for Charley raced through him.

Dropping the hay bales, Ace rushed into the barn to find Earl stomping his hoof and snorting as Charley leaned far over the top of the stall door, reaching for him. He knew she was agile, but the idea of her falling in with the horse and getting hurt didn't sit well with him.

"It's okay, Cinnamon," she said, nearly tumbling into the stall.

Ace was to her before she'd have fallen. He swept her up and into his arms before heading toward the back exit of the barn.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and held tight.

He didn't bother scolding her. The kid wouldn't have listened anyway. No. She'd find the biggest, tallest tree on the property and climb it if he pushed too hard. There was no point risking it. Plus, he was relieved she was safe, but he wasn't about to admit that to her. She'd take it as a sign they really were the best of friends.

Ace saw Benat, the ranch foreman, on horseback, approaching the barn. The man had a rifle in a rear flank long gun scabbard. "What happened? Who fired a rifle? You?"

Benat nodded as he drew the horse to a stop, inclining his head. "Warning shot."

"For?" questioned Ace, still holding Charley as if something might leap out and get her. "This have something to do with people in white?"

Benat's face paled slightly, and Ace found himself holding Charley to him tighter. "Were they here? This close to the main house?"

"No, who are they?" asked Ace.

"If you ever see them, get Samuel or me right away, okay?" From the look on Benat's face, he didn't want to discuss the topic further.

Ace nodded but fully intended to question the man more about it all later. "What was the warning shot for?"

"Samuel and I noticed a pack of coyotes that have been getting a little comfortable coming near the ranch," said Benat. The smell of the lie hung in the air between them. Ace let the man have it, more because he strongly suspected the lie had been for Charley's benefit, not Ace's. But later, he'd get answers from Benat.

"And?" asked Ace.

"We found their den," the man said.

"Were they in it?" asked Ace.

Benat shook his head. "But they've been preying on whatever they can get their paws on. Found a bunch of pet collars in there."

Charley touched Ace's cheek. "Did the coyotes want collars to wear? Like pets? We should find them and let them know they're loved too. They can be our pets. We can teach them tricks, Barnes. I always wanted a dog, but Daddy says no to getting one."

Ace opened his mouth to tell Charley why the collars were really in the den but stopped. He didn't want to be the person who burst her bubble. He'd let her be ignorant to the truth. "Uh, I'll check on them later to see if they're interested in being pets. But I'm guessing they're not. Okay?"

She nodded. "Thanks, Barnes. You're a great best friend."

Benat lifted a brow and then cleared his throat. "We found something else. Something bigger than the den."

"What?" asked Charley, her eyes widening. "Did you find Tank? I miss Tank. He was really big."

"Tank?" questioned Ace.

Benat rubbed the back of his neck, grinning as he did. "Bull that was a permanent fixture around here for a while."

Charley frowned. "I miss him. When is he coming back, Uncle Benat?"

Benat glanced briefly at Ace and then plastered a smile on his face. "Don't know, sweetie. I know he was your buddy."

Charley nodded proudly and then leveled a serious look at Ace. "But you're my best friend, Barnes."

"Hey, I thought I was your best friend," said Benat.

Charley groaned. "That was last year, Uncle Benat."

"How quickly I've been replaced," added Benat, his expression going serious as he focused on Ace. "Samuel noticed mountain lion tracks near the den. There is blood there as well. The tracks were off."

"Off how?" questioned Ace.

"Big," said Benat. "Really big. Same for the coyotes. And it looks like at least one of the coyotes is hurt. Same goes for the mountain lion."

Charley wiggled to get down. "Barnes, we gotta go help the kitty and the coyotes!"

He held her where she was. "Absolutely not!"

Her bottom lip began to quiver.

"Sorry," Ace said with a grunt. "I didn't mean to shout."

Charley nodded and then tipped her head to the side, looking toward Benat. "Did you shoot the coyotes?" asked Charley, her eyes widening in horror. "Uncle Benat?"

"No, hon, I didn't," stated Benat quickly. "I fired a warning shot. I didn't aim at any. Promise."

She breathed out a sigh of relief. "Good. Because it's not nice to shoot something for doing what it does naturally. Right?"

Benat pressed a smile to his face. "I really wish I could see the world through your eyes, Charley."

She gasped. "You want to take my eyes?"

Benat laughed. "No. Never mind. Your eyes are safe."

"Oh good," said Charley, still clinging to Ace's neck. "I thought I was gonna have to have Barnes be mean to you."

Benat snorted. "Got him wrapped around your little finger, I see."

Confusion covered Charley's face. She lifted one of her hands and stared at her fingers. She shook her head. "Uncle Benat, I don't got him on my little finger at all. And he's very big. I don't think he'd fit."

Ace chuckled. "It's a saying, Charley."

"Oh." She nodded but didn't look to be following. "Before you did the warning shot, did you ask the coyotes why they were coming so close to the ranch?"

"No. I was a little too worried they might try to eat you to stop and converse with them," said Benat.

"Don't be silly, Uncle Benat. They won't eat me," she returned.

"Because you'll have Barnes be mean to them?" asked Benat, clearly amused with the situation.

Ace grunted.

Charley touched Ace's cheek. "You won't be mean to them, will you, Barnes? You know they won't eat me, right?"

"They're dangerous, Charley. Don't get any ideas in your head about looking for them. While you may think they're pretty and just like a dog, they could kill you. Same goes for that mountain lion Benat mentioned."

She patted his cheek. "Silly goose. It won't do that. I'll ask them what they want. I can do that. I can talk to them."

Benat stiffened. "Charley, where is Mrs. Bowker? You should be with her."

Charley eyed Ace.

He fought to keep from laughing. "You're in trouble now, aren't you?"

"Only if the old goat wakes up," she said before clamping her mouth shut.

Benat shook his head. "You age me rapidly, kiddo."

She smiled and then canted her head. "What does that mean?"

"Nothing." Benat dismounted and tossed the reins of his horse over the nearest fence rail. He headed right for Ace and Charley. "How about I take her up to the house?"

"Is she going to stay there, or will she give her nanny the slip again and go off and search for coyotes and the mountain lion?" questioned Ace.

"That one," said Charley, earning a chuckle from Benat and a growl from Ace.

"Least she's honest." Benat took her from Ace and carried her over to the horse. He set her upon it and stayed close, spotting her. "I won't let her run off."

"Uncle Benat," said Charley, wiping a tear away from her cheek. "We gotta go help the coyotes and the kitty. It's not nice to let an animal be hurt or sick alone. We should help them. That's the nice thing to do."

Ace did his best to keep from yelling. "Charley, they're dangerous enough as is. Hurt, they're downright deadly."

"I can talk to them," she stressed quickly. "I can tell them that we just want to help them and they won't be dangerous then. Huh, Uncle Benat?"

Benat patted her lower leg gently. "Barnes is right. They're dangerous enough as is, Charlotte- Jane. Hurt, they're even more unpredictable."

"But I can talk to them," said Charley, clearly not understanding the severity of the situation and that injured wild animals were deadly. "They won't be un-pre-dic-tables then."

Benat sighed softly. "Your daddy is looking for them all right now."

"To help them?" asked Charley with all the innocence of a child.

"Yes," said Ace quickly. "To take any who are hurt to the doctor."

"The vet?" she questioned.

Ace nodded. "Yep. The vet."

"Good," she replied, wiping her cheeks once more. "I'm gonna be a vet when I'm big. I'm going to make all the animals better. I won't let any be sick or hurt alone."

Benat glanced at Ace, looking tired. "I'll take her up to the house and stay there until Samuel gets back."

Ace waited until Benat had led the horse and Charley toward the main house before returning to unloading hay. While he'd been full of energy earlier, he was waning. He strongly suspected that had something to do with dealing with an almost five-year-old.

Kids were downright draining.