Café, the bank and the pharmacy where Riley had just picked up a refill of his oxycodone. The biggest building, however, was the two-story Victorian inn that Logan had converted into headquarters for the family business. Logan had added a new sign in the past six months. McCord Cattle Brokers was emblazed on a copper-and-brass background.
Classy.
But then Riley hadn’t expected anything less from Logan. His brother was a ball-busting Renaissance man in a four-hundred-dollar cowboy hat.
Since it was close to dinnertime, Riley hadn’t expected to see so many people milling around Main Street. None was especially looking at him, though he did get a friendly wave from Bert Starkley who was in the doorway of the café he owned.
He got a not-so-friendly look, however, from Misty. The woman was coming out of the bank, but when Misty laid eyes on him, she whirled around and went back in. Clearly he’d ruffled some feathers by refusing her help, but he preferred that to some of the TLC that was being offered.
Hell, Trisha had wanted to run his bath for him, and he didn’t think it was his imagination that she would have joined him in the sudsy oasis if he’d been agreeable. She’d also eyed that saddle on Lucky’s bed. Riley wasn’t in any shape for suds, saddles or Trisha.
“Want a cold glass of sweet tea?” Bert called out to Riley. “It’s on the house for our local military hero.”
“Thanks. If the offer’s still good tomorrow, I’ll take you up on it then,” Riley answered.
Maybe.
Riley made sure to smile. Hoped it didn’t look as forced and creepy as it felt, but it was something he was working on.
He still wasn’t in a socializing kind of mood, but he had needed a flat surface to walk so he could get in some exercise. Only every other step hurt now. Well, all of them hurt, but only one out of two made him see gigantic stars. Riley figured that was a good sign. What wasn’t a good sign was that he still needed lots of pain meds to get through every minute of every hour.
And then there were the flashbacks.
Since the bad one two nights ago, he’d kept them from trying to claw their way to the surface. “Jingle Bells” and a good mental boot stomping had worked. Temporarily. But he needed another weapon in his arsenal. Sex, maybe. Lately, he’d been thinking a lot about sex.
And Claire.
Too bad he’d been thinking about them at the same time.
When he got the niggling feeling again that he was being followed, Riley glanced quickly behind him and spotted the twins. Not exactly being stealth-like because he heard them giggling before they darted into their grandfather’s store. He hoped they’d stay there. He didn’t want to see any glimmer of a nipple.
“Just admiring the view,” one of them called out. And giggled again.
The view being his butt. Now, normally he would have been flattered by something like that, but if Wilbert found out that his backside was the object of his young granddaughters’ attention, then Riley would have one more riled citizen on his hands. He’d get that sweet tea all right—dumped on his head.
Riley picked up the pace in case the twins came in pursuit, and he ducked down the side street just as his phone rang. It was his sister, Anna, the one person he did want to have a talk with, and that’s why he’d already left her two messages. If she hadn’t been all the way over in Florida where she was attending college near her military fiancé, Riley would have gone after her for a face-to-face chat.
“Don’t you know I have certain skills that make it dangerous to piss me off?” Riley said when he answered.
“And how did I piss you off?” Anna didn’t pause, didn’t miss a beat, which meant she’d no doubt been expecting his surly protest.
“When I got home, I found two women in my bed.”
“Okay. And I guess you want to thank me for that?” she teased.
“No. They’re young women. Too young. And you sent a team of women to my house to babysit me.”
“I heard about you giving Della and Stella time off. I knew Logan would be busy because he’s, well, Logan, and Lucky is, well, Lucky. I couldn’t be there with you, so I made a few calls to let people know you’d be at the house. Alone. While recovering from an injury that could have killed you.”
Oh, man. Anna’s voice trembled on that last handful of words, and Riley felt the tremble tug right at his gut. “I’m okay.”
“Yes, because you got lucky. Don’t bullshit me. That shrapnel was just an inch from your heart.”
“Shrapnel I got because I was trying to rescue a kid from a very bad situation.” And that’s all he could and would say about it.
Jingle bells... Jingle bells...
Anna didn’t argue. Wouldn’t. But she wouldn’t just accept this, either, because she was his kid sister, and it was in her job description to worry about him and nag him. “Look, I’m not asking you to give up what you do. You love it. You’re good at it. And it’s you. I’m just asking for you to accept their help so you can recover.”
“I did accept help. Some. Those women stocked the fridge, brought over even more food. And Claire fixed me breakfast.” Which reminded him of something else he wanted to ask. “Claire’s got a kid. Why didn’t you tell me about that?”
“Because I thought it was something you’d eventually want to tell me. Ethan’s your son, right?”
Riley found himself cursing again. “Jesus H. No, he’s not. Why does everyone think that?”
Anna made a sound of mock contemplation. “Hmm. Maybe because it’s true?”
“It’s not. I’ve never had sex with Claire. She’s Daniel’s girl.”
“Yes,” Anna stretched that out a few syllables. “In high school, she was. I just figured you two had hooked up since then.”
“I can’t move in on a best friend’s girl even when the girl becomes an ex. That’s man-rule number three—never take anything that’s not yours.”
“Even when the relationship happened in high school?” No teasing tone this time. Just lots and lots of skepticism.
“Even then. It’s a forever and ever amen thing.”
“Sheez. Who makes up these stupid rules?” she asked.
“Men. Real men. Including me. Besides, Daniel might not be her ex. I’m thinking they’re back together and that he’s the kid’s father.”
“Did you ask Claire about that?”
Well, he hadn’t gotten a chance because she’d hung up on him. “It’s none of my business.”
More of those hmm-ing sounds. “But you’re curious or you wouldn’t have just asked me to gossip about it.”
“Man-rule again. It’s not gossip if
