“That reason isn’t real, Dusty.”

She turned her head slightly and Mike didn’t lift his so her face was less than an inch away. His gut got tight at the pain stark in her eyes.

She wanted to love her sister and she didn’t understand bitterness. She got on with life. Hell, she’d even been molested by Denny Lowe, survived, dealt with it and put it behind her. She did not get Debbie. But she felt the pain of losing a sister every time this shit happened.

“She’s seventeen or she’s forty, Mike, you’re the type of guy a girl does not want to lose. Not even the memory of what had been. We’ve tarnished what she’s held golden for years.”

“If she wasn’t such a bitch, honey, she’d have something more than money to fill that hole I left that she clearly never filled. That’s on her. Do not take any of this shit on you. She was fuckin’ seventeen when I broke it off with her. She holds onto that, onto me, thinkin’ she can lay claim when decades have passed and she doesn’t even live in the same goddamn state, you gotta get that…is…whacked.”

He watched her eyes work then her mouth moved then he got a partial smile before he got a soft, “Yeah.”

“Yeah,” he whispered.

She sighed again.

Then he watched her brows lift and she said, “Your, uh…Violet is married to Joe Callahan?”

“Yeah,” he repeated.

“Didn’t he marry his high school girlfriend and then she –?”

Mike cut her off with another, “Yeah.”

“Whoa,” she breathed. “Shit like that breaks a man.”

“He was broken all right. Vi fixed him.”

“Clearly quite a woman,” she muttered.

“I had a fifteen year lesson to settle for nothin’ less,” Mike muttered back.

Her face grew suddenly soft and something sweet flashed in her eyes.

And the pain was gone.

Mike grinned.

She continued, “Darrin told me Alec Colton and February Owens finally pulled their fingers out.”

“That would be Alec and February Colton who have a son named Jack so, yeah to that too.”

“That’s cool,” she whispered. “Finally.”

She was not wrong about that. Still, he didn’t know the particulars so he couldn’t do the math but he was thinking he waited for Dusty longer than Colt waited to have February.

“Uh, you gonna introduce me to your boys?” she prompted.

“This would require me ending our huddle. And the reason I got a chance to have this huddle fuckin’ sucks but that doesn’t mean I don’t like it now I got it,” he returned and got a grin.

“This is true,” she muttered, her arms around him getting tighter telling him she wanted to let go as much as he did. Which was to say, not at all.

“You okay?” he asked.

“I’ll survive.”

“You call your Dad, minute I leave. Then we need a powwow.”

She nodded.

“I’ll feel the kids out and you’re back for dinner.”

She nodded again then asked, “You like sandwiches for lunch?”

He felt his brows draw together as he answered, “Yeah.”

“How do you feel about eating them in your bed? Walk’s short for me, I’ll meet you there and bring the sandwiches.”

At that, his arms got tighter.

“I’ll be careful with crumbs,” she whispered.

“Sweetheart, by the time I get from the Station to home and then have to get back on the road to get back to work, we’ll have half an hour.”

“I’ll wrap your sandwiches up. You can take them with you.”

Lunchtime quickie.

He could do that. Fuck yes, he could do that.

“Works for me.”

That got him a smile.

Then the smile faded and her eyes, already holding his, locked tight.

“You dropped everything, shot out here to take care of me. That doesn’t say dirty, that says sweet. But it’s your payback so you get to pick.”

Fuck, it was like she wanted to make his dick hard.

“I’ll decide at lunch,” he said and got the smile back.

“If I don’t let you go, they might be moved to call for the jaws of life to pry us apart,” she told him.

He laughed softly before he replied, “Then I best introduce you to my boys.”

“Yeah,” she whispered.

He leaned in and took her mouth. Too short but his lips left hers with the taste of her on them.

It would work in a pinch.

Then he separated from her and walked her across the yard to introduce her to his boys.

And while he did it, Mike Haines experienced something profound. Watching Dusty with her hair in a messy knot, cowboy boots on her feet, a slit in the knee of her jeans and a gorgeous smile on her face, his arm around her, he did it proud.

Audrey was pretty. When he met her, she was funny. When he made her his, he thought he was happy. But even back then, when she stood at his side, he didn’t feel lucky.

Watching Dusty charm his boys with a natural ease that was all her, he felt both.

Proud and lucky.

* * *

Merry at his side, Mike driving the unit on the way back to the Station from the farmhouse, Merry muttered, “McGrath. Not good.”

“No,” Mike agreed.

“Haven’t shined my crystal ball in a while,” Merry remarked.

“Don’t ‘spect you need to,” Mike replied.

He knew from his voice Merry had turned to face him when he asked, “How do you think he’ll come at them? Money?”

Mike nodded. “He’ll try that first. But Dusty’ll stake herself to that land before she’ll allow Fin to lose his birthright. And that’s just Dusty. No tellin’ what her Dad’ll do.”

He knew Merry had turned to face forward when he asked, “They got a weak spot?”

“Boys’ Mom isn’t fighting fit, never was, never will be and Darrin’s death brought right out in the open a woman who hid behind a man her entire adult life. She’s a huge target. Way she is, she’s got no business managing their affairs but both boys are minors so she does. McGrath gets to her, he’ll hit a bulls-eye.”

“Fuck,” Merry mumbled.

“Yeah,” Mike again agreed.

“How bad does the boy want the farm?”

“Bad enough, he got wind of this shit, made one call to his aunt, she put her life on hold and moved home to take his back.”

“Works for you.”

“Wasn’t the reason she came home.”

“Still, works for you. And seein’ as it works for you, that works for him.”

Mike made no reply because this was the truth.

“While you two attempted to become surgically attached at the everything, the boys and me had a chat,” Merry threw out.

“And?” Mike prompted.

“Time to visit Ryker.”

Terrific.

Ryker, if he was in the mood, was an informant of Colt’s. Ryker was known to be a hardass, a badass and not to give a shit about anyone. No allegiances. Ryker was a free agent.

But Ryker’s woman’s daughter got caught up in some recent bad business in town. Shocked the shit out of everybody when Ryker made it clear he was prepared to lay the smackdown for her. In an effort to do this, he wheedled his way in and worked the case with Tanner Layne. More shock on the heels of that as Ryker and Tanner got tight.

However he did it, Ryker knew everything that was happening on the west side of Indianapolis, primarily Speedway, The ‘Burg and their satellites. Ryker would know about McGrath and his movements and if he didn’t, he’d find out.

Still, Ryker only traded information for money or markers and only if he was feeling sassy. He was a pain in the ass. And he was not a man you wanted to owe a marker.

Mike thought of the farm he spent time at as a teen. How he liked it. The tranquility of it. The quiet pride the family took in its commonplace beauty. He thought of the times he sat on his balcony and saw Darrin with Fin and Kirb out working that land. And he thought of sandwiches in his bed with Dusty.

And he decided he didn’t mind so much owing Ryker a marker.

* * *

“Now I know you got balls, doin’ the dirty on Dusty then callin’ my ass.”

This was how Hunter Rivera answered Mike’s call.

Mike didn’t exchange pleasantries. Instead he informed Rivera, “LeBrec phoned her.”

“Uh…I know.”

“Pardon?”

“Dude got wasted. Totally. Hammered. Shitfaced. Blotto. Loaded. Wrecked. The dude was so polluted, he was pickled. And seein’ as he was in that state, he had no problems sharin’ with anyone who would listen at Schub’s that he’d called his woman while some asshole was in the act of doin’ her and didn’t mind sharin’ that. He also shared how he intended to get his ass up to Indiana to kick this asshole’s ass and take hold of his woman. And seein’ as it was a Friday night, Schub’s was packed, there were a lotta people there to listen.”

Fuck.

Fuck!

Rivera went on, “You got the touch, bro, layin’ her shit out then talkin’ Dusty around in a night, cementin’ that shit by sendin’ her flowers. One day, my woman is plotting your murder. Next day, I get asked why she doesn’t get any flowers. I see you got it goin’ on. But fuck, you’re killin’ me. I haven’t bought Jerra flowers since I pissed her off when we were datin’ and fell asleep durin’ some crappy-ass movie she forced me to take her to sayin’ that movie was Hollywood’s version of us. How could I fall asleep watching the story of us, she asks. And, bro, if that was us, we are borin’ as shit. Now, I got LeBrec all riled up ‘cause you’re up in Indiana doin’ the nasty and don’t mind takin’ a call. Fuck.”

“He can’t come to Indiana,” Mike informed him.

“What you want me to do? Sit on him?” Rivera asked.

“Shit just got ugly with the farm. Dusty had a hand full dealin’ with a house full of grief and a bitch of a sister. Now the sister has located a buyer for her quarter of the land who likes to build and he likes it a lot. To build, you gotta have land. And it’s a little sketchy how he changes the minds of farmers who’ve held onto their land for five generations including through the farm crisis, convincing them suddenly to up stakes and walk away.”