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Her happy face sweeps away all the bad parts of today.

She takes a step toward me.

Toward the street.

Ezra launches himself at his daughter, and I hold up a hand to stop her. Even though facing the Westons is the last thing I want to do, I wave back, wait for traffic to clear, then cross the street.

“Hi,” I greet them all. Ezra, Wells, and River stand there, tall and blue-eyed and rugged. Beside them are their Aunt Wyoma and Uncle Vaughn.

Piecing together the Westons is like trying to puzzle out one of those detective boards with all the strings. In the short time I’ve worked at the distillery, I’ve learned River owns the tattoo parlor in town and lives in the mountains above the ranch. Wells is in the Stable View cabin on the west side of the ranch. Warren, the oldest, lives in the apartment above his bar. My mind locks on what the woman had said in the grocery store. Something about their parents no longer being here. More pieces.

Ezra smiles. “Long time.”

River, leaning back against the brick wall like some cowboy James Dean, chuckles. “Hear you’re killing it at the distillery.”

“I hope so.” I linger on the sidewalk, feeling awkward and out of place.

“She’s a natural,” Wells says.

“Find anything good in town?” Vaughn asks.

I nod at the bag of rat food in my hand, thinking of my own dinner I left behind. “Rat restock.”

“We’re going to get ice cream,” Evangeline chirps, and I smile at the thought of all these big bad cowboys ordering ice cream cones. “Want to come?”

Before I can answer, I hear bootsteps.

We look over to see Cole coming out of the hardware store. A flush creeps up my cheeks. Not prepared for his rugged face to show up in my line of vision. Sure, the other brothers are beautiful to look at, but none have the magnetic pull on me that Cole does. Tucking a plastic sack in his back pocket, his dark gaze slides to me. Expressionless. Assessing.

He strides our way, stopping close enough that I smell his leather and whiskey scent.

It’s annoying to think so much about a man who clearly detests me. I thought we made progress after our late-night conversation, but apparently not. He’s avoided me at the distillery for the last week. There’ve been no surprise visits, no growling ambushes in the tasting room. Instead, he’s stayed in the Coop. I won’t pretend I’m not disappointed.

“Well, would you look at that…” Wyoma moves to smack a kiss to Cole’s cheek. “We’ve got almost the whole family here.”

Family.

God, it’d be a dream.

To have a place that welcomes you as much as you welcome it. A person who loves you as fiercely as you love them.

Sometimes I feel like an idiot for even hoping for that much.

“Not staying. Needed to grab a screw for the hoop press.” Cole lifts a hand, flashing the jagged scar on his palm. All the brothers, except Wells, have one.

“Uncle Cole,” Evangeline cries. “Come get ice cream with us!”

Conflict shines on his handsome face. Like he’s warring with himself. “Not today, Bugs.”

Ezra and Wells share a look like it’s not the first time he’s said no.

Evangeline insists. “But Delilah is.”

I die a little inside.

“No, it’s okay. I don’t want to crash your party.”

“Please, crash it.” River pushes off the wall.