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Chapter 1
Under a large tenton the Honeywood Ranch, five of the six Bridge Brothers sat around a table as Ryker’s wedding reception swirled on around them. Four of them wore tuxedos; Kash, the youngest brother, did not. When the bride had wanted to limit her party to five bridesmaids, Kash had quickly offered to bow out of the ceremony.
The brother of honor was on the dance floor with his arms wrapped tight around his new wife. They seemed to be in their own little world, and Tucker was working on not being jealous.
And he wouldn’t be—as soon as he got away from all this wedding stuff. He was glad his brother was happy, but he never wanted to spend an afternoon this beautiful surrounded by this many people.
“So,” Kash said with his mouth full of potato salad, “when are we going to find Tucker a woman?”
Tucker glared at him.
His brothers were out of control. In the last year, four of them had fallen madly in love. He’d been shocked when it had happened first to Denver, but he hadn’t known then that it was contagious. Not long after, Kash had miraculously found a woman willing to put up with him, and then Ryker had fallen in love with an old friend.
Colton’s romantic reunion with a high school friend wouldn’t have seemed so unrealistic, but it came on the heels of all these other miracles, so the whole year had left Tucker baffled.
“What about Gunner?” Colton asked.
Gunner shook his head and slid his chair back from the table. The four groomsmen had started the reception at the head table, but once they’d finished eating, they had moved to this table, so they didn’t feel like they were on stage. Tucker was now regretting the move. He eyed the empty head table longingly. His brothers hadn’t been talking up there. They’d been too stretched out. It had been grand.
“Let’s talk about something else,” Jenna, Denver’s girlfriend, said.
Tucker sent her a grateful look.
“Okay,” Kash said, “so, Tucker, how is this toad situation going to affect your hunting season?”
Tucker groaned. This was worse than the matchmaking conversation.
“What toad situation?” Denver asked, sounding absolutely captivated. Denver was always up for a juicy scoop.
Before Kash could make it sound more exciting than it was, Tucker explained, “A hiker took a picture of a toad and posted it online. Turns out that it might be the western Blake toad, which hasn’t been seen in about a century, and people thought it was extinct.”
Denver was confused. “You don’t guide toad hunts. What’s that got to do with you?”
Tucker sighed. “I’m hoping it has exactly nothing to do with me, but they’re talking about shutting down the Black Hills while they look.”
“For atoad?” Denver cried.
Tucker shrugged. He had been careful not to get worked up about this, and he wasn’t going to start now. There was no use worrying about something that might not happen.
“How many hunts do you have scheduled for that area?” Denver asked.
“A lot.”
Denver stared at him, waiting for him to say more, but he didn’t want to. “So what does that mean for your business?”
