For a moment, he looked as if he wanted to say something and then thought better of it.
Mia shifted her weight. For a moment, the barn seemed to hold its breath. “Everything okay?”
“Lot on my mind.” Roy lingered in the doorway, eyes distant. His gaze slid toward the big garden behind the barn. “Yeah. Busy.”
“Don’t I know it.” She smiled, turning back to her trays. “Well, I should get back to work. These appetizers won’t bake themselves. Good to see you.”
She watched him head over to the house.
After all these years, he still made her a little nervous. Always watching. Always turning up when she least expected it. In high school, she thought he had a crush on her, though he never said a word. Not that she would have. She had boyfriends.
Besides, Roy was always the odd man out.
Maybe that was unfair. He was solid, dependable. The kind of man who showed up early and stayed late and adored her father.
Just not someone she had ever imagined standing beside her.
She shook off that thought. She had to stop seeing what wasn’t there and concentrate on the food. Still, the back of her neck prickled as if she’d missed something important.
The timer dinged, pulling her back to the present. She slid another tray from the oven, the heat chasing the chill that had crept over her skin. The scent of sugar and cinnamon wrapped around her, warm and comforting.
Outside, a pickup rumbled somewhere down the road, fading into the distance. The sound left her lonelier than she wanted to admit.
Dusk was fast approachingwhen Mia finally stepped outside and crossed the yard toward the farmhouse, a platter of treats balanced in her hands.
The screen door creaked softly as she slipped inside. Her father sat in his recliner near the front window, the television volume low. His once-broad shoulders looked smaller these days, but his eyes were still sharp.
“Smells like cinnamon in here,” said Hal Whitmore. “That one of your fancy New York recipes?”
She laughed and bent to kiss his cheek. “Nah. It’s nothing fancy, just comfort food. Thought you could use a treat before bed.”
He gave her hand a squeeze. “You work too hard, honey.”
“Humph. Somebody’s gotta keep this place running,” she teased.
“Roy still around?”
“No, he left. He did look at the tractor, thinks it’s the carburetor.”
Hal nodded. “Good man. Always was. Helped me more times than I can count.”
Mia smiled but didn’t answer. She didn’t have the heart to say she wished Roy’d stop hovering or that sometimes his loyalty felt a little too close for comfort.
Instead, she settled on the couch, letting the quiet fill the room.
For a moment, it was peaceful. Fragile but real.
The kind of peace she’d come home to protect.
CHAPTER 2
Caleb Jennings saidgoodbye to his parents, climbed into his truck and headed south, leaving behind the first hints of fall in Beaver Creek, Vermont. He’d spent two weeks visiting friends and family, but the town felt smaller than ever. Everywhere he went, someone wanted to thank him, shake his hand, call him a hero. He wasn’t sure which bothered him more, the word or the weight of it. Florida was a long drive, long enough to think about the future.
Finn Ryder’s construction project was waiting. Caleb loved working with his hands, building something out of nothing, seeing the pieces fit together where they belonged.
But there was another kind of work that defined him just as much.
Chase Maddox from the Brotherhood Alliance had another assignment lined up. The group of men, all ex-military, had become his friends, his family away from home. The work mattered. It gave them purpose again—protecting, rebuilding, and using skills they had learned in the service. Skills that didn’t always cross over to real life but still lived under his skin.
