“She’d’ve been right on the horn letting the men know that,” Sam continued. “And then y’all showed up. She’d have let them know to keep low, at least until you’d cleared out.”

“Well.” Lee drank some lemonade. “They’re not going to stay up there in the woods. We’ll do that clearing out, but we’ll keep an eye on the place. I’d appreciate it if you’d do the same, give me a call if you see any of them come back.”

“Happy to.” Mary Lou patted her husband’s hand. “But we’d be grateful if you kept our names out of it. They’re vengeful people, Chief.”

“There’s no problem with that. You just call me direct, you hear?”

“You watch yourself,” Sam added. “They won’t take kindly if you lock up one of their blood.”

“That’s just what I aim to do.”

Lee assigned a rotation of officers—in pairs—to watch the Draper land. He’d take his own rotation next shift, but decided he needed to get back, let his family know the status.

He found tables already covered with their colorful cloths, lights being strung, his sons hauling out more. And the little girl who called him Pap playing with the world’s ugliest dog.

Audra wobbled to her feet, toddled over to him on those sweet, chubby legs, babbling and grinning with her arms already held out to him.

He scooped her up, gave her a toss to make her squeal. Ugly dog raced off to leap on Molly, start a mock fight, while their own Rufus just snoozed in the shade.

He smelled more lemonade and growing things, heard his wife’s delicious laugh bounding through the open kitchen doors.

Normal, he thought. It was good, even for a little while, to come back to normal.

Audra wiggled down, toddled over to Darby, who—more squeals—hauled the baby onto her shoulders before she continued with the lights.

He went in, saw Emily checking potatoes on the boil for salad, and Zane struggling his way through peeling dozens of hard-boiled eggs.

“They ought to make a tool that does this,” he complained.

“They do. It’s called your hands.”

Emily turned, and Lee saw the flicker of relief in her eyes as they met his. “And here’s two more hands,” she said brightly. “Where are Silas’s?”

“I’ve got him and Ginny keeping an eye out for now. I’ll switch with them in a bit.”

“All right, you have a seat there with Zane. Want an iced coffee?”

“Babe, I’d’ve married you for your iced coffee alone. Anybody hear from Britt?”

“She’s at the shelter with Traci and her mama,” Zane told him. “She’ll head back here soon. I take it the Drapers weren’t home.”

“That’s right, but they’ll come around. The women have walkies, so they’ll know we’re waiting for them.”

He went to the sink—he’d been schooled more than once—washed his hands before he sat and picked up an egg. “The women were ready for us, had their stories together. Mary Lou McConnell said Bea Draper went over to Clint’s place about nine this morning. She’d have seen Traci wasn’t there, so they were ready for us with a couple loads of bullshit.”

He peeled an egg—he’d been schooled there, too—reached for another. “I tell you something right now, that girl’s lived a hard life over there. Both those women keep binoculars at the window that looks out at Traci’s backyard. She wasn’t lying when she said they watched her. And those kids—Jed Draper’s kids? Filthy house, and two of them wearing nothing but dirty diapers with the older one looking like he’d smother them in their sleep if he could get away with it.”

“Oh, Lee.”

“There’s a look, Em. He’s young for it, but there’s a look in the eyes, and he has it. And I come back here,” he went on while he peeled a third egg, “I see our boys working together. And that sweet little girl comes running to me, smelling like fresh-cut grass and shampoo, wearing that pretty little—whatever it is.”

“Romper,” Emily added, setting down his coffee, standing behind him to rub his knotted shoulders.

“Well, she’s romping in it, and now she’s bouncing on Darby’s shoulders out there, happy as ten puppies in a pile. It made me think those kids—no fault of theirs—but those kids, whoever’s doing my job in fifteen, twenty years? They’re going to lock those kids up. That’s the odds they got.”

“Some beat the odds,” Zane said.

“Yeah, that’s true. Best to remember some do.”

Leaning over, Emily kissed his cheek. “You go on out there, play with your granddaughter. Zane and I can finish these.”

“No, I’m fine here. Peeling eggs, it’s mindless. I could use some of that.” He reached back to pat Emily’s hand, looked over at Zane.

“You’re a good man, Zane. I want to say that to you in case I haven’t recently. You suck at peeling eggs, no question about it, but you’re a good man. Now, if I were you, I’d leave these to me, and I’d go out there to that long-legged woman, help her string lights, and give another shot at smooth-talking her into moving in here with you.”

“Don’t have to. She’ll be moving in tomorrow.”

Emily squealed, not unlike Audra, then wrapped her hands around Zane’s throat as if to choke him. “I’ve been here more than an hour, and you’re just telling me?”

“I’ve been concentrating pretty fiercely on peeling these eggs.”

“You.” Now she lightly swatted the side of his head. “Get out. Get those lights up, then you make sure your cousins have the rest of the tables set where they’re supposed to be.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

He escaped.

“Damn it, my potatoes,” she remembered, and dashed to take the pot off the stove.

“It’s been a hard morning,” Lee began.

Steady, Emily poured the boiled potatoes and water into the colander in the sink. “I know it.”

“But that? It sure pushed away a lot of the hard.”

She looked through the steam, through the window over the sink, out to where Zane plucked Audra off Darby’s shoulders and settled her on his own.

“Our boy’s happy, Lee. I worried about him more than Britt—he shouldered so much. But he’s happy. And that girl? They fit. Seeing they do, it settles something in me. I see Gabe out there throwing a ball for the dogs and Brody shaking his head and laughing. It all settles something in me.”

“We did good work, Em.”

She glanced over with a smile. “Don’t feel I’m done yet, but yeah, so far, some pretty damn good work.”

* * *

A few hours later, Zane figured he’d rather have a good, solid nap instead of hosting a party. He’d hauled tables, chairs, climbed up and down ladders, carted out huge coolers of lemonade, iced tea, galvanized tubs to fill with ice and beer and wine.

Every time he thought he could have a beer break, grab a shower, someone—usually female—gave him another chore.

Before he knew it, the band Emily insisted on arrived, started setting up equipment on the platform Lee and his boys had built.