Nicole Helm - Wyoming Cowboy Ranger

Ty had never particularly understood his brother, though he loved him with a fierceness that meant he’d lay down his life for the man. What he did know about Noah was that having Addie and Seth in his life and on his ranch made him happy, and that was all Ty really cared about.

“Delaney Delirium getting to you?”

Ty gave Grady a cool look. “Just trying to understand all this baby business,” he said, nodding toward Noah and the way he held Seth easily on his hip.

Grady patted him on the back. Hard. “Sure, buddy.”

“You really want to be a dad after the way we grew up?” Ty asked, unable to stop himself. He didn’t get it. The way Noah had taken to Addie’s nephew that she was guardian and mother to, as if it were easy to step into the role of guardian and father. The way Vanessa and Grady seemed calm and even happy about their impending parenthood.

The Carson generation before theirs had not been a particular parental one. More fists and threats than nurturing happiness.

“Figure I got a pretty good example of what not to do,” Grady said with a shrug. “And a woman to knock some sense into me when I make mistakes. Besides, we turned out okay in spite of it all.”

“And Delaney senior ain’t got a problem with his grandchild being raised by a cop and saloon owner?”

“Laurel’s father doesn’t get a say.”

Ty knew it was different for Grady. Ty had been eighteen when Mr. Delaney had flexed his parental and town muscles to make sure Ty got the hell away from his daughter. Grady wasn’t a dumb teenager, and neither was Laurel. They could refuse a parent’s interference.

Couldn’t you have?

He shook his head. Ancient history. No amount of Carson and Delaney comingling was reason to go back there.

Laurel called Grady over and he left Ty in the middle of all this goodwill and pastel baby nonsense. He was somewhere in no-man’s land. He almost wished a sniper would take him out.

There were toasts and cake and presents of tiny clothes and board books. No matter that their families had been enemies for over a century, no matter that people in town still whispered about curses and the inevitable terrible ends they would all meet, Carsons and Delaneys sat together celebrating new lives.

Some unknown ache spread through him. He couldn’t name it, and he couldn’t seem to force it away. It sat in his gut, throbbing out to all his limbs.

Faking his best smile, he went to Vanessa and Grady and made his half-hearted excuses to leave early. No one stopped him, but his family sure watched him slip out the front door. He could feel their eyes, their questions. And worst of all, their pity.

As if being alone was the worst fate a person could face. He’d seen a lot worse. This was fine. And good. Right for him. Alone suited—

“Ty.”

There was something his gut did when she said his name. No matter the years, he couldn’t seem to control that intrinsic physical reaction to his name forming on her lips. A softening. A longing.

He took a minute to brace himself before he turned around. Jen stood on the porch of Grady and Laurel’s cabin. She looked like cotton candy in some lacy, frothy pink thing.

And all too viscerally he could remember what she looked like completely unclothed . No matter that he assured himself time changed things—bodies, minds, hearts. It was hard to remember as she approached him with a face that wasn’t shooting daggers at him for the first time since he’d arrived home.

“Listen.” She looked back at the open door, then took a few more steps toward him on the walk. “I wanted to let you know I had a stranger come in the store last night.”

“What?” he demanded, fury easily taking over the ache inside him. Last night? “Why didn’t you call me? I told you—”

She lifted her chin, her eyes cold as ice. “You told me to let you know. Here I am, letting you know. I don’t think he’s whatever you’re looking for. He was perfectly nice. He just asked to take pictures of the store, and then he—”

“What time did he come in?”

“Well, seven but—”

“He was going to take pictures when it was pitch-black?”

She frowned at that, a line forming between her brows that once upon a time he’d loved tracing with his thumb. Where had that memory come from?

“He was hungry. He fainted . He was out of it. Confused maybe. And totally polite and harmless.”

“Damn it, Jen. I told you to call me. I could have—”

“He didn’t do anything. I know you’re paranoid, but—”

“I am not paranoid. You think a man who gets a letter with no postage delivered to where he lives and works is paranoid?”

She tilted her head, studying him, and he realized with a start he’d said too much.

He never said too much.

“What was in the letter?” she asked, her voice calm and her eyes on him.

It was hell, this. Still wanting her. Missing that old tiny slice of his life where she’d been his. He didn’t want this, but he couldn’t seem to get rid of it. It ate at him, had him dreaming about doing things he couldn’t possibly allow himself to do. Every once in a while he’d think...what would just one touch do?

But he knew the answer to that.

She audibly swallowed and looked away, a faint blush staining her cheeks. She felt it, too, and yet...

“It doesn’t matter,” he grumbled, trying to find his usual center of calm. His normal, everyday clear-eyed view of the world and of this problem he had. “What did he look like? Better yet—I want to see your security tape.”

Her eyes flashed anger and frustration. “You are not looking at my security tape.”

“Why not?”

“It’s an invasion of my customers’ privacy.”

He snorted. “I don’t care that Mary Lynn Jones bought a pack of Marlboros even though her husband thinks she quit or that little Adam Teller was buying condoms because he talked his way into Lizzie Granger’s pants.”

Jen’s mouth twitched, but then she firmed it into a scowl. “How do you know all that?”

“I pay attention, babe.”

Her scowl deepened and she folded her arms across her chest. “Blond hair, blue eyes. About the same height as Cam. I’m not sure what that’d be in feet and inches, but I imagine you would. Skinny, but strong, like a marathon runner. He wore hiking clothes and boots, all in tan, and a big, fancy camera around his neck. Topped it off with a Stetson. Said he was taking pictures of ghost towns and happened upon Bent.”

It was more to go on than he thought he’d get out of her, but still not enough to ring any bells. “Tattoos? Scars? Something off about him?”

She shook her head. “Not that I could see.”

“I want the tape, Jen. If someone is...” He didn’t want to tell her. Didn’t trust her to keep it a secret and let him handle it, but he needed to see the man himself. Needed to identify him so he could neutralize this threat. “I’m getting letters. They’re not threatening exactly, but they’re not...not. I know you don’t care about me, but your family is all tangled up with mine now.” He gestured at the whole irritating lot of them. “Don’t you want to protect what’s yours?”

“Of course I do.”

That sharp chin of hers came up, defiant and angry. Her temper used to amuse him. Now it just made that ache center in his heart.

But that wasn’t the problem at hand. “Then let me see the tape. If I recognize him, I’ll know what to do. If I don’t, then maybe you’re right and it’s harmless coincidence.” He didn’t believe that, but he’d let her think he did.

She was quiet and stiff for humming seconds, then finally she sighed. “Oh, fine. I suppose you want to go now?”