left three years ago after his divorce, he’d barely thought about the ranch—and he had completely forgotten how much Mystery, Montana, felt like a throwback to a bygone era. It really was a different culture, a tiny microcosm of society where the values revolved around family and community.
It was a different world than the one he’d been in overseas.
It surprised him, but for a moment, a feeling of sadness and nostalgia overtook him. He hadn’t realized how much he’d missed home. Well, he’d missed some things about home. He glanced over toward the door that led to the examination rooms, where the blonde and his mother were with Winnie. The blonde seemed to hate his guts. When he took off again, he’d miss a lot of things, but her hate wasn’t one of them.
Hopefully he had time to make her change her mind about him—he’d overcome worse odds with women before. Heck, Alli had really hated him when they’d first met. She had been waiting tables at the little diner in Mystery, the Combine, making money before moving along to the next town. The first time she’d seen him, he could have cut glass with her sharp glare. He’d loved that about Alli, the way she was so strong and always ready to stand up for herself. So many women just let men walk all over them, but not Alli. Then again, it was that same strength that had pushed him away and led her into the arms of another man, and then another, and another.
“Have you heard anything new about Alli?” Waylon asked, trying not to notice the way his gut clenched when he thought about all the hard times he’d gone through with the woman.
Wyatt shifted in his standard-issue plastic hospital chair. “They have her car at the impound lot. We’re holding it until we get the full forensics report. But thanks to Lyle, it may take a while.”
“Lyle is still working for you guys? Can’t you find anyone better?” he teased his brother, but he knew exactly how it worked with small-town politics—where the good ole boy system was still alive and well.
“Lyle isn’t all bad,” Wyatt said with a laugh. “Though he probably could use a refresher course or two. He did find the photos that pointed us toward Alli in the case of Bianca’s murder.”
“Even a blind squirrel finds a nut once in a while.”
“You got that right.” Wyatt’s laughter echoed through the nearly empty waiting room. “If you want, when we’re done here, we can run up to her car. Maybe you can spot something we’ve missed. Though, I gotta say, there ain’t a whole lot there.”
“Maybe you just needed your little brother to come home and show you how to do real investigative work. Like we do in the military,” Waylon said with a booming laugh.
“Is that what they’re calling the Girl Scouts these days?” Wyatt smirked.
It was moments like these, when his belly hurt from laughter, that made him realize being home wasn’t just about a change of location. It was more about family—and family was something he could never replace.
Waylon was certain he shouldn’t feel guilty for the state of Winnie, yet he couldn’t help the tug at his heart each time he looked at her clunky, Ace bandage–wrapped arm as they all made their way into the main house. Dr. Richards had said it was only a sprain, but just to be sure he hadn’t missed a microscopic crack, Eloise and the girl’s guardian had gone along with his plan to keep it wrapped for at least the next week.
Waylon followed the blonde woman toward the kitchen as Winnie pushed past. The woman had barely spoken to him since they had left the hospital. Pissed didn’t even seem like a strong enough word to express the vibe she was sending his way. It was going to be a long week at the ranch. He’d thought war zones were bad, but at least there he wasn’t the sole focus of a woman’s wrath.
His mother stepped up beside him, and as she noticed him watching the woman, she chuckled. “Don’t worry about Christina—she’ll come around. She’s just a bit protective of Winnie, that’s all.”
“Christina?” He let out a long breath. “As in Alli’s sister, Christina?”
“The one and only. She’s been a real asset to the ranch. Didn’t you recognize her?”
He’d only ever seen pictures of Alli’s sister. Alli had made sure to keep him at arm’s length from her family—when he had suggested having them at their wedding, it was in that moment Alli unilaterally decided they should elope. He should have seen it as a warning that she had some issues, but no, love had made him blind. So blind he hadn’t noticed when she had started to keep him isolated; after a couple of years he never saw his friends or even his brothers.
If he’d been smarter, he would have seen what she was really doing—using him to take care of her while she pursued another man. As much as he had the right to, he didn’t hate her. Emotions were crazy, and love was even more illogical. Not that he still loved her. No. That feeling had died the moment he’d left the ranch and run away to the military. The day he signed his papers was the day he had let his past go—that was, until now.
Christina turned around, standing in the doorway of the kitchen, and glared at him. “For some reason, Winnie is asking about you. You may want to go see her.”
He could almost hear the hiss in her words. Yep, she hated him. Sweet.
He sighed, and his mother gave his arm a little squeeze. “Don’t worry, kiddo. I’m telling you, her bark’s worse than her bite.”
He had a feeling he would get the chance to see if his mother was right, but if Christina’s attitude toward him was any indication of her bite, he was sure he’d come away with at least a mark or two.
Winnie sat at the table while Wyatt set about grabbing supplies for a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. As he walked to the table, Wyatt turned to Waylon. “Want one?” He lifted the jelly. “This is what you eat for lunch in the Girl Scouts, right?” His brother laughed.
Stepping behind Winnie so she couldn’t see, he flipped his brother the bird. “It’s still better than a solid diet of doughnuts, Deputy.” He rubbed his stomach. “In fact, I think you’re growing a bit around the middle.”
Wyatt laughed. “You need to move back to the ranch.”
“You looking for someone to help you with your Dumb and Dumber act?” Waylon teased.
The girl wiggled in her chair. “Yeah, Way-lawn.” She said his name like she had to think about each syllable on its own, and it made it sound like a children’s rhyme. “You come back. And you know what? We have party.”
Waylon chuckled. “Is that right?”
“Uh-huh,” she said with an overly exaggerated nod. “Way-lawn, you and me, we dress up. You help me?”
He’d had bullets whiz by his head in active combat zones, and he’d stepped in front of high-value dignitaries, ready to give his life for the greater good, yet, as Winnie looked up at him, he couldn’t help the fear that rose within him. He had no idea what to do with a kid—especially a kid who wanted to do a craft project. Maybe he’d have more of a clue if she wanted to strip down an assault rifle, but costumes—he was totally out of his league.
Christina gave a wry laugh
