A woman with a cause falls for a man who hunts the very thing she wants to save.Working as a traveling ranch hand to keep food on the table, Jareth Darby’s wanderlust is satisfied and his fear of settling down at bay. But even Jareth can’t fight the draw of a damsel-in-distress.Cyan Burns can afford to have principles and expectations of the world with parents on the top 50 list of the richest people in America. Her current cause has been the longest running – the Gray wolves of North America. Saved by Jareth from freezing winter weather, Cyan can’t ignore her attraction to the rugged Montana cowboy.But his new employer is out for wolf pelts and Jareth doesn’t see the problem with hunting the endangered species. Can Cyan convince him the wolves – and she – are worth fighting for? Chapter 1Nate 2001 Storming through the craftsman-style home, Nate bellowed, "Hannah, I'm going out." He couldn't find his hat. Normally he hung the darn thing from the hook by the door. Where was it? He ignored the empty elegance echoing back his footsteps. If he thought too hard about the things he'd gotten rid of, the guilt would overwhelm him. Impish at thirteen, Hannah poked her head around the corner from the kitchen. A small spot of flour dotted her shirt. She frowned. "Stefanie, again?" Nate glared. "Something tells me you already knew." There, behind the door his wide-brimmed cowboy hat peeked out. He swooped down and snatched it from its hiding place. If not for the creamy-colored walls to contrast with the dark mahogany hard wood flooring, Nate would never have seen the dark brown bucket. He plunked the hat on his head and stalked slowly toward Hannah. "Did you know? Where is she?" Blue-eyes wide, Hannah backed up, hands lifted in the air as if in surrender. "Hey, I know what you know. I just guessed. She's always making you mad." He yanked supple leather riding gloves on. Hannah wasn't the type to hide things. She most likely wasn't. More likely Nate's irritation and worry over Stefanie's whereabouts made him doubt and suspect everyone and everything. Even Hannah. "Sorry to bark at you, I'm just worried." He ground his teeth, fuming. Add raging to his concerns and Nate wasn't controlling his emotions very well. Riding his horse would help. That always helped. He slammed the door shut and the fresh green growth on nearby willow trees quivered from the force. Nate was pissed and the longer it took to find Stefanie, the harder his anger would be to control. He wouldn't snap, but her consequences would grow. A neighbor had spotted Nate out on the field earlier not that long ago and made a comment about kids being kids when they'd exchanged pleasantries. Not Nate's favorite saying. After pressing for more information, Nate culled information from the neighbor about high school students ditching class to go burn a bonfire and party out by Old Man Ruger's pond. Nate had gotten in his own trouble out that way when he was in school. The last thing he needed was Stefanie drunk and sleeping with some over-sexed farm boy who didn't know anything about protection or women. Especially when that woman was Nate's younger sister. The run-down barn had an attached stable that sat off to the side like a lean-to. Everything was wood - wood siding, wood trim, wood slats for roofing. The place was a veritable pile of kindling waiting for a match to fall and spur it to an inferno. But the building was all they had for a barn. In the back, Nate's dad had built a solid cement-walled room for forging. Somehow the presence of cement didn't make Nate any less leery about the safety of the rest of the tinder box. Nate had to open the door a specific way with a combination of moves done exactly right, or the old door would squeak and grown but not open. First, hit the top corner of the barn door with the flat of his palm just so. Next, yank on the wooden long handle while at the same time yank his hip to the side. Nate wouldn't be surprised, if one day he had to enter with a password - he already had to do the special handshake. Normally they left the door slightly ajar, but Stefanie had put the horses away last and she wasn't one who cared about making things easy for others. Dust motes drifted inside the time-bleached building. Afternoon sunlight filtered through overhead fiberglass slats Nate's father had installed for windows. Closing the door enough to block the wind, Nate shut out the chaos of the world. He simply existed for a minute within the peacefulness of the barn. Old as it was, run-down as it had become, the barn was a different world full of comfort and serenity. Muted nickering and the quiet lifting and chewing of hay mingled with the random clip and clop of hooves. Nate sighed, a little less amped up, but no less worried. He clucked his tongue. "Hey, girl, where are you?" He played the same game with his mare every day, pretending she wasn't in the middle stall with her name painted above her in pink. "Missy, where are you?" A soft