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I wouldn’t let Dante take that from me.
The Old Ladies were waiting on Mia hand and foot, and she was protesting and laughing at their antics. “I’m fine, guys, really.”
“You’ve got an ice pack between your legs,” Rachel pointed out. “We’re more than happy to help you.”
Darcy grabbed me a beer before raising her own. “To Scarlett, the newest member of the pack.”
“To Scarlett,” the Old Ladies chimed and then downed their drinks—most of which were nonalcoholic.
Mia raised her bottle of water toward me. “To Linden. For being there every step of the way.”
“To Linden, the newest Old Lady,” Joni added.
“To Linden,” Rachel said with a smile, “who is now one of us.”
My throat constricted with emotion, and I raised my beer. “To you guys. My tribe.”
Crow had made a pulled pork with homemade coleslaw and potato salad for dinner. Even Lily, who was a picky eater, ate it with gusto.
“Where did you learn to cook this way?” I asked him.
“My mom owns a restaurant in New Orleans.”
The way he said New Orleans came outNawlins, and it made me smile.
Rain began to fall, and we all bedded down with sleeping bags and air mattresses instead of returning to our separate cabins, all of us wanting to stay close to one another. Even the prospects came in. The infants woke up several times, needing to be fed and changed, but it wasn’t a disturbance. Most of us weren’t falling into a deep sleep; there was a collective emotion floating through the cabin, as if we were all tapped into the same consciousness, waiting for news about our family.
We got it in the middle of the night with the rumble of several motorcycles.
“They’re here,” Joni whispered.
I lifted myself off the couch. Crow and South Paw were already awake. One of them turned the lights on.
Darcy groaned and shielded her eyes. “A little warning next time.”
“The guys are home,” I said to her.
She instantly snapped to attention and got up, extracting herself from between her two kids that were sharing her queen-sized air mattress. She looked at her watch. “It’s four in the morning.”
“Better put on the coffee,” Allison said, wiping a hand across her tired face.
I went out onto the porch, wrapping my arms around myself to stay warm. The rumble of bikes became a roar. Even in the dark of the night, the cabin porch lights were bright enough to illuminate the Blue Angels’ faces.
I searched for Boxer and found him in the middle of the pack. He parked, cut off the engine to his motorcycle, and climbed off. I ran to him, my flip flops sinking into mud. I threw myself at him, and he caught me in the air. I breathed in the smell of him. The leather and oil, the scent of his skin from days on the road.
“You came back,” I whispered.
“Damn right I did,” he said, his mouth searching for mine. His tongue plunged between my lips, and we fused together like two souls reuniting.
When he pulled away, he stared into my eyes. “Not all of us came back, Linden.”
I stepped back and looked around. I saw Colt, Gray, Zip, Torque, and several of the Coeur d’Alene boys.
“Reap!” Rachel yelled, coming down off the porch. “Where’s Reap?” She ran a hand through her hair pushing it from her eyes as she searched for her husband.
“He was shot, Rach,” Colt began as he approached her. “He didn’t make it.”
“No,” she whispered. “No!”
