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Rylie stepped inside, carrying a coffeepot.
“Refills?”
Her father looked at her.
“How much have you heard?”
“Everything said at normal volume.”
“Rylie.”
“The walls are thin.”
“Go home.”
“This is my husband’s tavern.”
“Then go to your part of it.”
She poured coffee into my cup.
“Ignore him. He’s been telling me where to go since I learned to walk.”
Sheriff Tate frowned.
“You never listened.”
“I turned out fine.”
“You married a man named Trigger.”
“That was an excellent decision.”
A crash sounded in the dining room.
Trigger shouted, “I’M FINE!”
Rylie smiled.
“Mostly excellent.”
She filled Carson’s cup.
He held out his plate.
“Is there more pie?”
“There is always more pie.”
“I may move here.”
“We have an empty room upstairs.”
I looked at her. “The tavern has rooms?”
“Seven. The Rangers lived here while they renovated the place. Most of them moved out after getting married.”
“Mace lives upstairs,” Carson said.
