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He had asked. Hadn’t he?
“You demanded, didn’t you, Dawg?” she guessed. “All ready to charge ahead and exact vengeance.”
“Someone hurt her.” It didn’t make sense that she wouldn’t want vengeance.
“Come on, Dawg. Let’s go home.”
He shook his head fiercely. “You have to make her tell me—”
“Dawg, you can’t make Piper do anything.” She sighed. “She’s home; you know she’s safe. Give her time to come to you.”
He shook his head.
“You’re just going to piss her off,” Chaya stated as Natches lifted his head from her shoulder and moved away several paces. “She’s too strong to break down and cry, or let herself be treated like a child. You’ve hassled her for a year; now it’s time to go home.”
“She won’t stay safe.” He shook his head; it didn’t make sense to him.
“And here she’s a Mackay. Go figure,” Christa murmured.
“We’ll find him.” This time it was levelheaded, “think about it first” Rowdy. “We’ll find him, Dawg, and when we do, he won’t be able to hit another woman.”
Natches, Rowdy, Chaya, and Kelly moved to the truck Dawg had driven to the inn as Dawg moved to the car with his wife. For the first time, Christa noticed, she didn’t have to fight over driving.
Dawg moved to the passenger seat as she slid under the wheel.
“I need to go home.” He breathed roughly. “I need my girls.”
Her and his daughter.
She held back the secret she’d learned earlier. The news that their daughter would have a brother or sister. News that she feared would only make Dawg more protective, even as it made him more loving.
The drawback?
His feared inability to protect those he loved was breaking his heart, and that was breaking her heart. Because there was nothing she could do to ease his pain or to make those he loved, besides herself, understand the demons that tormented him.
Perhaps it was time she, Kelly, and Chaya had a talk with the stubborn and just as determined Mackay sisters.
ONE WEEK LATER
“Good morning, Mr. Samson; I hope you enjoyed your breakfast?” Piper met Guido Samson in the hall outside his room and gave him a warm smile.
The new lodger was a bit portly, his black hair thick, with a slight wave in the shortened length that was brushed back from his face to reveal a hint of gray at the temples. Dark, swarthy, just showing the lines of advancing age, he looked to be in his late fifties, though Piper bet he was in his early sixties.
He’d been at the inn four days and was already making his presence known, mostly by pissing Tim off. It seemed Guido couldn’t help but flirt outrageously with Mercedes Mackay.
“Ah, Miss Mackay.” He stopped, holding his hand out to her.
As Piper extended hers he took it, raised it to his lips, and pressed a light kiss to it with charming ease before releasing it.
“And here is your young man.” He looked over her shoulder, a broad smile pulling at his lips as Piper swore she could feel Jed coming up behind her.
“Morning, Mr. Samson.” The deep, controlled drawl—controlled hunger, anger, and determination—sent a shiver racing down her spine.
That tone had only intensified over the past days, just as the gleam of determination in the navy blue gaze had only hardened and, at certain times, intensified.
“Ah, Mr. Booker, good morning,” Guido greeted him. “I am out for a day of sightseeing. I believe my son, Rhylan, is arriving this evening and hopes to find the best spots for a few days of fishing.”
“The fishing here is excellent, Mr. Samson; I’m certain your son will find plenty of excellent spots.” Edging around Guido’s portly frame, Jed curled his fingers around Piper’s upper arm. “Excuse us, please. Piper and I need to talk.”
