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He shakes his head at me. “The hell is going on, Trey? Dispatch said something about arson?” His gaze shifts to Griz. “I take it you got the guy?”

Quickly, I tell the sheriff what’s been going on. I wave Caleb over so that he can tell his part. He’s no longer coughing since one of the hands brought him something to drink, and he gives the sheriff a full rundown. The sheriff grows more tense with every word, but when we’re done talking, he clasps me on the shoulder.

“Why don’t you and your kin get back to your house. The fire department’s only two minutes out. I’ll let you know when we get the fire under control.” The sheriff waves at the deputy that came in the other own car and they speak for a few short moments. Then the deputy takes Griz and shoves him into the back of his squad car.

“I don’t see him confessing,” the sheriff says. “Hell, they never do. But that man stinks of gasoline.”

“He has good-sized burn marks on his finger, Sheriff,” the deputy adds. “I’m guessing from trying to start the fire.”

“Yep, he can’t argue much since the three of you saw him start the fire, and young Caleb witnessed him spreading around the gasoline,” the sheriff says. “But we’ll sort all that out tomorrow, anyhow.” He nods toward the house. “Go on now, get out of the firefighters’ way.”

Sure enough, the firetrucks are pulling in as he speaks. I motion to Joshua and Tyler, as well as to all of the ranch hands, and they follow me back to the house. With the fire trucks there I don’t expect the fire to jump, but the bunkhouse is closer to the barn than the main house. And I’m certain that we could all use a drink.

But mostly—I want to check on Jessa.

We all pile into the house, stinking of smoke and cows. Clay, Tyler and I rush upstairs to check on Jessa and Joshua. But when we open the door, Joshua waves at us frantically from a chair next to the bed.

With the face of an angel, Jessa is snoozing softly, even with the overhead lights still on. She’s exhausted, and it’s no wonder. She’s expending energy for two.

Clay motions again for us to be quiet, and we back out of the room slowly so as not to wake her.

“What the hell happened?” Clay asked asks. “Was it Griz?”

“Let’s go get a beer,” I say, pitching my voice low so I don’t bother Jessa—even in the hallway, she might hear us and wake up. “I’ll tell you all about it.”

Chapter 24

Jessa

Two weeks after the big fire and I’m in the obstetrician’s office with all four of my boys. The doctor has been in once—booting the guys out to the hallway for a few minutes for the private part of the exam. The room smells antiseptic and is cold. I cross my arms over my chest and wait impatiently.

None of them seemed ready to volunteer to sit in the waiting room now, so, despite a dubious glance from the nurse, we’ve all filled the small exam room. Watching the four of them try to take as little space as possible in the room would normally make me laugh, especially with how hard they’re all not looking at the countless models and framed pictures showing diagrams of women’s anatomy.

But today, I’m too nervous.

The obstetrician comes back into the room and gives me an encouraging smile. She shoots a quizzical look at the men, just as she had done when she came in earlier for the exam. But she doesn’t ask any questions about them specifically, or our relationship. And I’m not really in the mood to volunteer anything. I just want to know about my baby.

“I’ve got all your test results back, and I’m so happy to tell you that everything is looking great. The tear has healed, and the baby seems to be developing right on schedule,” she says.

Relief hits me in a wave, and I almost choke from the relief of it. “You’re sure?” I ask, voice small.

“Absolutely sure,” she reassures me. “But it can’t hurt to let these guys keep pampering you,” the doctor says with a wink.

I laugh—half a sob of relief half a sound of real amusement at the doctor's wink. We hadn’t specified our exact relationship when we came in, but apparently, the four testosterone-filled overprotective men had made our relationship obvious.

Trey asks the doctor a couple of follow-up questions, but I’m not paying much attention. I think he just needs reassurance, and I can’t blame him after what happened with his wife. Patiently, the doctor answers his questions.

I lean back in the hospital bed and close my eyes, letting the murmur of their talk wash over me. My future is still up in the air. I love these men—and I know they care for me, too. But my baby’s future isn’t in doubt. I will love him or her with all my heart. And, I know, so will his or her father and uncles.

Touching my stomach, I take a deep breath, wishing I were breathing the fresh Wyoming country air, not the slightly odd-smelling hospital air. I can’t stand the thought of losing these men, of losing what we have. But I also take comfort in the fact that no matter what happens, my baby will be loved.

A few minutes later, we’re all loading into one of the bigger diesel trucks. I ride in the front seat, between Trey and Joshua. Only because I rode in the back on the way to the hospital and it only seems fair.

But now that the worry about the baby is behind me, my mind is finally free to worry about other things. “So, what’s going on now with Griz?”

When the men don’t immediately answer, I add, “I’ve got a clean bill of health now, guys. Lay it on me.”

Tyler is the one to finally answer me. “He’s been arraigned, and he didn’t have the money for bail, so he’s not going anywhere.” Satisfaction practically drips from his tone.

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