They had built something beautiful amidst the danger and chaos—something real and lasting. Something Amy had thought lost to her forever when she’d entered witness protection.
A commotion by the door drew everyone’s attention as Cheyenne burst in, slightly breathless. “Sorry I’m late,” she announced, making a beeline for Nash. “Traffic was awful, and then Micah insisted on stopping for—” She broke off when she spotted Amy, her eyes widening. “Oh! I need to hug you, Sadie!”
Amy felt herself blush at the possessive phrasing. “Hi.”
“It’s Amy,” Nash said quietly.
“What?” Cheyenne paused.
“My name,” Amy smiled. “My real name.”
Cheyenne grinned. “Well, then I still need to hug you.” She flung her arms around her in an enthusiastic hug. “I’ve been dying to meet you! Nash has told me absolutely nothing, which means you must be really special.”
Nash groaned. “Cheyenne, maybe let her breathe before you start the interrogation?”
Cheyenne released Amy but linked their arms together. “Ignore him. Big brothers think they know everything.” She lowered her voice conspiratorially. “But between you and me, Nash is the good one. Don’t tell Porter I said that.”
Porter, overhearing, rolled his eyes. “I’m right here, Cheyenne.”
“I know,” she replied cheerfully, not the least bit repentant.
Amy couldn’t help but laugh at the exchange. Cheyenne had the same confident Cross presence as her brothers, but with a vibrant energy that was entirely her own. Her easy acceptance made Amy feel instantly welcomed into this inner family circle.
“Dinner’s ready!” Sadie called, and the room reorganized itself with practiced efficiency. Children were herded to a separate table, plates were filled, and seating was arranged.
Amy found herself between Nash and Cheyenne, surrounded by Crosses and Stones and their extended family, the conversation flowing around her like a river. They included her naturally, explaining inside jokes, filling in backstory, and asking her opinion as if she’d always been part of the group.
“So,” Cheyenne said around a bite of grilled chicken, “Nash tells us you’ve been researching Porter Rockwell’s gold.”
Amy nodded, grateful for a topic she felt confident discussing. “Yes, though I’m beginning to think it might just be a legend that became confused with the conquistador gold over time.”
“That wouldn’t be surprising,” Eden commented from across the table. “Oral traditions often merge or transform over generations.”
“Especially when treasure is involved,” Trey added. “When we started hunting the conquistador gold, we found at least five different legends about where it came from and who hid it.”
“And all of them were partially true,” Porter remarked. “Just not in the way we initially thought.”
Amy found herself drawn into a discussion about historical research methods, symbol interpretation, and the connections between seemingly unrelated treasures.
The Crosses and Stones listened to her theories with genuine interest, asking thoughtful questions and offering insights from their own experiences.
Here, surrounded by these extraordinary families, Amy felt something she hadn’t experienced in eight years—a sense of belonging.
After dinner, as everyone moved to the living room for coffee and dessert, Nash pulled her aside into a quiet corner. “Holding up okay?” he asked softly, his blue eyes searching her face. “It’s a lot to take in all at once.”
Amy nodded, surprising herself with the truth of her response. “Actually, I am. Your family is … incredible. All of them.”
Nash smiled, pride evident in his expression. “They’re something, aren’t they? Loud, opinionated, sometimes overbearing …”
“And fiercely loyal,” Amy finished for him. “I can see why you love them so much.”
“They already like you,” Nash told her, his voice dropping lower. “I can tell.”
Amy felt a flush of pleasure at his words. “Even though I’ve brought danger to your doorstep?”
Nash laughed softly. “Amy, danger follows the Crosses and Stones like a shadow. If anything, you’re just continuing a proud tradition.”
CHAPTER 13
