"Yes," she said, pulling back slightly. "But you didn't need to?—"
"I did."
Her jaw tightened. "You brought a helicopter. And guns. To my parents' farm."
"Yes."
She stared at me like I'd lost my mind.
Maybe I had.
But I'd also kept her safe.
Before she could argue further, Sunny—the big, shaggy dog I'd only heard about—came barreling over, tail wagging, tongue lolling out like he'd just met his new best friends.
He went straight for Ethan first, who crouched down and let the dog lick his face with zero hesitation.
"Good boy," Ethan said, grinning. "You're a good boy, aren't you?"
Sunny moved down the line—Lucas, Gideon, Levi, Jacob, Caleb—tail wagging harder with each one.
Joy's momma's expression softened immediately.
Dogs were truth-tellers. Everyone knew that.
If Sunny liked them, they couldn't be all bad.
Her daddy, though—he wasn't convinced.
He stood near the porch, arms crossed, eyes sharp, taking in the weapons, the helicopter, the seven large men who'd just invaded his property.
"Who was the woman?" he asked, voice hard.
I met his gaze. "It's complicated. But it has to do with our father's past."
"Your father," he repeated slowly.
"Yes, sir."
His eyes narrowed. "And you're Micah."
"Yes, sir. I'm Micah."
He grunted—low, considering, like he was making some internal calculation I couldn't see.
Then he turned toward the house. "Make yourselves at home. There's still work to do, so I'm going to see to it."
Joy's siblings were still staring—wide-eyed, curious, a little starstruck.
Her father rounded them up with a jerk of his head. "Work to do. Let's go."
They followed, reluctant but obedient, and suddenly the yard felt a lot quieter.
My brothers did what they did best—split up, spread out, get a lay of the land.
Which left me alone with Joy.
She turned on me immediately. "Why did you come in a helicopter?"
