Page 32 of Sudden Summer

“I’m headed there next.”

Well, it was no use holding back. I laughed, loving the way Hayes’s face lit up. “You’re a good uncle.”

“So they say.” His hand reached out and gently stroked Juniper’s hair. “I won’t take her from you. I can tell she’s right where she wants to be.”

“Come sit next to me. I can probably transfer her over to you when it’s time to burp her, and then you can take over with the rest of her bottle.”

He nodded. Silence filled the house again, except for the tiny, precious slurping sounds of a very satisfied little lady.

“No one got hurt, did they?” I asked, pulling the bottle from between the baby’s lips. It popped free, and she started fussing almost immediately. “I know, gumdrop. Go see Uncle HayHay and give him some snuggles.”

“Hey, beautiful girl.” Hayes got Juniper situated before I handed him her bottle. “And no. No one was hurt. The backyard fire was just a bunch of kids who let their bonfire go, you know?”

“And the warehouse?”

“Same weird circumstances as the one last fall. And there was this abandoned house that we got called to a few months ago. We can’t find a pattern, but it’s clear that someone is starting these fires.”

“That’s why you’re so tense?”

“Yeah. These things escalate. Firebugs aren’t known for their satisfaction with small fires. We’re looking at someone who has probably already escalated things two or three times if they are setting such large structures on fire. It’s not good. The last thing we need is someone setting off a wild fire as we’re heading into the dry season. I have no desire to be out fighting that, or to have a firestorm run through Clarence County.”

“I hope whoever it is, you catch them soon. I don’t like the idea of you being in danger.”

Hayes laughed.

“What?” I asked.

“That maternal gene really kicked in for you, didn’t it?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Sure. Like you haven’t always teased me about only being a firefighter to get some⁠—”

“Do not finish that sentence while holding your baby niece,” I scolded, albeit playfully.

“Fine. But you have to admit, you’ve never been on me about staying safe.”

“Maybe not out loud—because you’re insufferable and I know Dolly keeps you in line with her concern—but I’m just feeling very protective of Beau and his family right now. And that includes you.”

“That was a weird way to say it.”

“Say what?” I asked.

“To say you’re worried about our family.”

“Our family?” I had no idea why he was saying it like that.

“Yeah, you know? Ma and Pops, Colt, Vi, you, Beau, me, Lach, Hawk, Jessie, the kids? Our family? You think you’re not a part of that?”

Oh. “I just⁠—”

“Nah. I don’t want to hear it. I’m fuck—fudging—pissed—oh for Christ’s sake. She’s four months old and asleep, so I’m just gonna let it fly! I’m pissed you don’t think you’re family. What the hell would my brother have to say if he heard you talking like that?”

“I do think of you guys as my family. But I’m not technically a Ford.”

Hayes shook his head, leaning back against the sofa. “Birdie, I know my brother is a dumbass, but you’ve been a Ford since the first time you stepped foot on this ranch. This is your home. We are your family. Even if my brother never figures out how to tell you that he loves you. Even if you run off and marry someone else. It’s too late for you. You are a fixture here, and not a single one of us will hear otherwise about it. Okay?”

I had to be dreaming. I was, right? I’d fallen asleep on the couch while feeding Juniper, and Hayes hadn’t actually shown up and just told me his brother loves me?!