The Wrangler's Last Chance. Jessica Keller

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      A door slammed nearby and Shannon whirled to see who it was. Two doors down from the bunkhouse she called home, a tall man carried a bag into a staff house that had been empty for most of the last year. He had to be the head wrangler Rhett had recently hired. Shannon hadn’t met him yet and didn’t know anything about him, but at the moment he was her only hope.

      Cradling Wing Crosby, Shannon rose and ran in the man’s direction. “Help! Please. Help me.”

      He dropped the bag and jogged toward her.

      “My goose. I need help.” Shannon held out Wing Crosby. “I don’t think he’s breathing.” Her voice broke. “I don’t know what to do.”

      The man’s electric-blue eyes latched onto hers. He nodded once and ripped off the coat he was wearing. He wrapped the fabric around Wing Crosby’s body before gingerly lifting the goose from her arms and then he dropped to a knee, Wing Crosby in his lap. Opening up the jacket, he pressed his ear to Wing’s chest.

      “Not breathing, but there’s a heartbeat.” He squinted. “It’s faint, but it’s there.” With a great amount of gentleness, the man opened Wing Crosby’s beak and swept the inside of the goose’s mouth with one of his fingers. “Did you see him choking on anything, or were you feeding him something when this happened?” The man kept his attention on Wing Crosby while he asked the question. His fingers combed over the bird’s white feathers for injuries.

      “I don’t know what happened.” Her voice took on a desperate tone. “I found him in the water. I didn’t see anything.”

      He wrapped the jacket back around Wing and tucked the goose into the crook of his arm so the bird was snug against his body like a football. With his head tipped down, the man’s dark hair fell across his forehead. The stranger rolled his shoulders as he took a deep breath.

      Shannon dropped down in front of him so their knees touched. She just wanted to be by Wing. “You know what you’re doing?”

      The man glanced her way, the intensity of his blue eyes startling her again. He cocked an eyebrow. “You want me to save him, right?”

      “Of course.”

      He nodded and focused his attention back on the goose. He wrapped a finger over the holes in Wing Crosby’s bill, then put his mouth over the goose’s bill and blew into the bird’s mouth five times.

      The man repeated the process three times before letting out a frustrated growl. “We’ve lost his heartbeat.”

      “Wait.” Shannon laid a hand on the man’s arm. “He’s dead? Are you saying he’s dead?” Her voice pitched up.

      A muscle in the man’s firm jaw ticked. “Not on my watch.” He tugged open the jacket. Using three fingers, he pressed down on Wing’s chest rapidly ten times. He followed that with five breaths and kept switching back and forth.

      “I’ve had him since he hatched.” Tears slipped down Shannon’s cheek as she watched Wing being worked on. “He’s not even a year old yet, but he’s really important to me,” she said. “I can’t lose him.”

      She had lost too much.

      Too soon.

      They had just passed the one-year anniversary of her father’s sudden death, and hitting that first milestone had left her feeling raw all over again. He had been hit by a car; the driver had been focused on their phone instead of the man in the crosswalk. But that wasn’t the only thing weighing her down. Her mother’s Alzheimer’s kept advancing, so every day it felt as if she was losing her all over again. Rhett had returned to the ranch exactly a year ago to claim his inheritance, but he had married right away and taken over the ranch house, which meant Shannon had been moved to a staff bunkhouse where she was living alone for the first time in her life. Her twin brother, Wade, who had been assumed dead for five years, had returned to the ranch last summer. Which was positive, but it had still been traumatic coming to terms with his betrayal, the fact he was still alive and forgiving him for letting them believe otherwise, only to find out he had cancer and they could lose him all over again. While Wade was considered cancer-free now, there was always a chance it could return. Being his sole support during that time had been stressful.

      And then there had been Cord.

      Who had gifted her the negative track of thoughts that played on repeat in her mind.

      The boyfriend who had left bruises on her arms.

      Scars on her heart.

      At least the experience with Cord had broken Shannon of her childish daydreams about relationships and love. There wasn’t a perfect someone out there waiting for her. Maybe for others—people like her brothers and their wives—but not for her. She needed to pick herself up, be strong on her own and figure out what a life without anyone else in it looked like.

      Because despite how much she loved being around people, loved connecting and had always wanted a family, alone might be what God had for her.

      And she was determined to be okay with that.

      No matter how much it hurt.

      While breaking free of Cord had ultimately been a good thing, it had sent her world reeling. With her brothers busy in their new marriages and her mother no longer capable of being her confidante, Shannon had been entirely left out and alone. The only thing that had gotten her through the worst of it had been raising the little abandoned goose, because he had been completely dependent on her for survival. He had given her something to focus on.

      He had needed her when no one else had. He had nestled up to her and gazed at her adoringly when her family had treated her as if she was weak, as if they expected her to fall apart. Whenever their eyes met hers, the pity they held was too clear to stomach.

      For once she just wanted them to see her as strong. She wanted a reason for them to be proud of her. She would give anything to be seen as more in their eyes than the little sister they all had to watch out for, to constantly protect.

      All of a sudden, Wing made a horrible half honk, half gasping sound and his whole body trembled. In one swift motion the man set the goose down, grabbed Shannon’s arm and hauled her to her feet a few steps away.

      “If you’re right in their face sometimes they’ll bite when they come to,” he said. His gaze fell to where he gripped her arm and he immediately let go of her. “Even people they know. Their body goes into a mode. Thinking something is latched onto them—that’s usually the behavior of a predator, not someone trying to save them.” He shoved a hand into his almost black hair and let out a long, loud breath. “And geese have shockingly painful bites.” His laugh was soft and self-conscious.

      Wing Crosby’s eye blinked open and drooped shut, then flew open again. The goose tried to lift his head but set it back down again. He opened his bill and wheezed a few times.

      He was alive.

      Shannon squealed and threw her arms around the man. “You saved him. I don’t know how to thank you. I can’t believe you were able to save him.” She hugged him tightly. He was so much taller than her. His chest was solid, his shoulders wide, and he smelled of something delightfully spicy. She was breathing deeply when she realized he wasn’t hugging back.

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