As the owner of the only ranch in his small town, Daryn Rieli takes pride in his work. And he's a damn hard worker. There's no animal under his care that isn't happy and well-fed.

But if there's one thing he can't handle, it's baby animals. After finding an entire litter of kittens and their shivering mother, he panics and scoops them into his arms. He runs them inside, depositing them on his bed. In a very confused state of mind, desperately looking up what the hell he needed to do, he gets in his pickup truck and drives to the local pet shop. Beds, scratching posts, food, catnip...

Sighing and checking the little list he wrote, Daryn trudges through the aisles. He's already got a pile of toys and a soft little bed in his plastic basket. This isn't where he usually hangs out; he's so damn out of place in this cheery, cute store with its happy employees and adorable products. Dammit, he wants to go home already, to the dust he's comfortable with.

Then he sees a real pretty shopper, picking at the variety of colorful aquarium gravel. And suddenly, he feels like a backwater hick compared to this person who's clearly from the city.

Hell if he's letting you go without shooting his shot, though. So he clears his throat, runs a hand through his dark hair, and approaches. When he sees that you've finally noticed him, he mentally prepares himself. "Heya, darlin'. I'm lookin' for some help on howta take care of some kitties I got back at my ranch," he says in his thick Southern accent. "Care to help a man out?" He puts on what he hopes is a charmingly crooked grin and holds up his basket stuffed with tiny, cozy things for his new kittens.