Chapter 2
Dan Duke—aka Little Bro, Double D, and at least five other nicknames—finished shuffling the papers on his desk into a pile so it looked neater than the mess he’d arrived to…
but not by much. Being untidy was one of his major flaws, according to his mother.
“Such a sweet boy, but ask him to bring his dirty dishes out of his room, and he’s suddenly deaf,” she was often heard saying to anyone who would listen.
He’d never mastered tidiness, just like he’d never mastered making his bed, other than tugging up the covers after he got out.
As far as Dan was concerned, you either had the organized-and-tidy gene or you didn’t.
But he had figured out that if you were really nice to the people around you, treated them well, and occasionally brought them coffee or baked goods, some of them would clean up after you.
Not everyone, but enough of them. And he knew exactly who they were.
His mom said he played the game of life better than any of the other four Duke siblings. Dan wasn’t so sure he’d got it right yet, but he did know how to read people and treat them accordingly, which came in handy in his job.
He tossed a pen into the mug his niece had given him last Christmas that said Best Uncle Ever. The word Youngest was scribbled between “Best” and “Uncle,” because Ally had a lot of uncles and never played favorites.
“We just got a call from the walking group. They passed the old Reynolds place about ten minutes ago. Apparently there was a vehicle parked in the driveway,” Sybil, the woman who manned the sheriff departments front desk, told him.
“I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve headed out there to check on a sighting of a car that was never there,” Dan said. “I’m sure the citizens of this town don’t think we have enough to do, so they create work.”
“Bart has pretty sharp eyesight, and he was the one who called us,” Sybil replied.
“Okay, I’ll go look. I need to check the road out of Lyntacky anyway. There were reports of people doing burnouts again.”
“Kids. What are you going to do?” Sybil waved her hand dismissively.
Dan walked out of the station and headed for his cruiser.
He’d been a cop in Lyntacky for years and wouldn’t work anywhere else. This was home. Everyone he loved was here. Lately, the population had grown with the new houses going up, and along with that, crime had risen too. Not big-city crime, but enough to keep them busy.
“What’s up, Little Bro?”
He turned toward the voice.
“What are you doing here, Ryder?” Dan asked, watching the tall man stroll toward him.
All five Duke siblings were cut from the same cloth, but each had slight variations—an inch taller here, a shade darker hair there—but no one could mistake them for anything but brothers and sister.
Ryder was the next oldest after Dan. Above Ryder were Brody and Sawyer, and below was Zoe, the only girl.
“I thought you might need sustenance.” Ryder held out a cup and a small brown bag.
Dan sighed. “You all know I’m an adult and, not only that, a law enforcement officer, right?” He still took the offerings because… well, food and coffee. “Mom put you up to it, didn’t she?”
Ryder grinned. “She said you left before she woke up, and she was worried you wouldn’t eat breakfast or lunch, then pass out from lack of nutrition.”
“And apparently I don’t know how to buy food or coffee?” Dan asked. “From my brother, who owns a cafe at the end of Main Street.”
“Something like that. And you are our baby brother, so we have to look out for you, seeing as you clearly have no idea how to do that for yourself. Plus, you’ll be gone an entire day tomorrow on that course. How will we cope not seeing you?” Ryder drawled.
“Right, because being a cop, I have no survival skills.”
“There is that,” Ryder said.
“Dukes!”
They both turned as Bart Matilda jogged toward them in those obscenely short shorts that hurt Dan’s eyes. The fabric was thin and floaty, and no one had ever been brave enough to ask Bart what, if anything, he wore underneath. Dan sometimes wondered if he wore anything at all.
“Have you checked the Reynolds house yet?” Bart asked, jogging in place.
Ryder and Dan kept their eyes firmly on his face. Of uncertain age, Bart was one of Lyntacky’s octogenarians and a man Dan respected… though he didn’t respect his clothing choices.
“Heading out there now,” Dan said.
“Good.” Bart did a couple of lunges, and Ryder made a choking sound.
“Right, then, I’ll be off,” Bart said. “I’m in training for a marathon.”
“Have you run one before?” Dan asked.
Ryder stepped on his foot to shut him up.
“No, first one, but I’ll be ready.” Bart jogged away, raising a hand in farewell.
“You know the rule, bro, don’t engage Bart in conversation when he’s wearing those shorts, and he’ll leave,” Ryder said.
“Right, sorry. I forgot.” Dan took a long pull of his coffee.
“I wonder how you manage your work with being so absentminded,” Ryder teased.
“I remember the important stuff.”
“That’s good, then. Later, bro. I better get back and relieve Libby.”
“Yeah, later,” Dan said, taking another sip. This brother made excellent coffee, which was a good thing, as he was the one who owned the cafe.
Dan headed for his vehicle, opened the driver’s door, and set the cup in the holder. Even though he was a cop, his family still looked out for him. It drove him crazy… and made him happy in equal measure.
He opened the bag and took a large bite of the grilled cheese sandwich before turning the ignition and heading up Main Street. He raised a hand at someone in greeting but didn’t stop. Conversations in Lyntacky were never brief, and he had places to be.
Lyntacky was a small Colorado town with a big attitude.
Trees, benches, and statues filled most of the open space not occupied by shops.
It was an eclectic mix of charm and functionality, or so the mayor liked to say.
The names of the businesses all had a connection to square dancing, the mayor’s personal obsession.
Life was good here. Better than good. Dan loved his job, even the crappy parts, and he loved his family. But lately, he’d been restless. He wasn’t sure what for, but something was bugging him.
Maybe he needed to date again. Settle down like the rest of his family. The problem was, he hadn’t met anyone in years who made him think that was an option.
He drove toward the Reynolds place, thinking about the women he’d dated recently. Fun, sure, but nothing lasting. Since Leah had left town, no one had come close to her.
His sister always said that when you formed a real connection with someone, you’d know they were the one. He’d laughed at her, but Dan knew exactly what Zoe meant. He’d had that connection with Leah Reynolds, even if they’d been too young to understand it until it was too late.
He’d gotten over Leah. Mostly. But that didn’t mean he didn’t think about her and wonder where she was, what she was doing. The fiery younger Reynolds daughter with her don’t-mess-with-me attitude and that smile…. The one that lit up her whole pretty face.
Locals had kept an eye on her family farm over the years because no one else would. And maybe Dan, more than the others, felt a responsibility toward the Reynolds sisters.
Minutes later, he turned into the driveway. The place was run-down, badly in need of maintenance. It was obvious no one in the Reynolds family was coming back to handle that anytime soon. Maybe they’d sell it?
Dan took the fork toward the house rather than the barns Chuck Reynolds had built. Like everything on this property, he’d done nothing with them and then moved on to the next project he wouldn’t finish.
He squinted. Was that… a woman standing on the front step? It couldn’t be…
“Holy fuck,” Dan muttered, his pulse spiking.
Seven years, and there she was. Leah Reynolds. He hadn’t seen her since the day she’d told him to go to hell for what he’d done to her family. What he’d had to do because it was his duty. He stomped down the guilt.
Dan hadn’t known she was back. No one had, or someone would have told him. He had known the town council had sent her and Cassie a letter about the state of the house. He’d figured they’d sell it. Apparently, he was wrong.
She didn’t move as Dan parked and got out, his heart thudding.
“Leah,” he said, approaching her the way one might a rattlesnake. She’d been unpredictable and volatile back then, so she probably still was. She’d also been kind, sweet, and so many other things when he’d taken the time to see past her defenses.
“Deputy,” she said in an emotionless voice.
It stopped him cold. She’d never been unemotional before. The fire and wildness in her had been what drew him in all those years ago.
Now she seemed different. No makeup. Simple clothes—cutoffs that showed off her endless legs and a worn T-shirt instead of the fitted, flirty outfits that used to tie his self-control in knots.
Seven years apart had honed her beauty, but where there had always been a smile, there was coolness now.
The girl he’d known was gone. In her place stood a woman who carried herself with a stillness that was somehow more dangerous than all that wild energy had ever been.
His gaze tracked the familiar things. The thick caramel curls she’d hated because she couldn’t tame them, the deep green eyes set in her heart-shaped face. Those eyes that had once shown her every thought were now guarded.
The sight of her hit Dan like a punch to his gut.
“Well?” she said, hands on her hips. “Why are you here on private property, Deputy? What do you want?”
“We had a report someone was seen outside your house. Since no one’s lived here for years, I was checking. Did you get back today?”
He spoke like the last seven years hadn’t happened, like there wasn’t a gulf of pain and history between them.
“Not sure what business that is of yours, but as I own the place and have every right to be here, you can leave now,” she said in that same flat tone.
“Did you come back because of the letter, Leah?”
“It’s none of your business why I came back, Deputy Duke. So get off my property.”
His eyes held hers for long seconds. “You keep up that attitude, and you’re going to settle right back in.”
She shifted her weight onto one leg and folded her arms in the general pose of pissed-off-ness, a word his niece used often. He expected her to yell, hurl an insult. Instead, she just said, “Goodbye, Deputy.”
“You turned on your utilities?” he asked. “Need me to do it?”
“I can look after myself.”
“I know you can. I was just asking,” he gritted out. She could always get a rise out of him. That hadn’t changed.
“Go away, Deputy. We need nothing from you.”
“We?” he asked, but she only pressed her lips together. Footsteps sounded inside the house. “Who’s in there?” The question slipped out before he could stop it.
“That would be none of your damned business,” Leah snapped.
She was right, it wasn’t, but he still wanted to know. Instead, he nodded and turned back to his truck. Before climbing in, he gave her one last look. “Welcome home, Leah.”
She didn’t answer, and he hadn’t expected her to.
As he drove back down the driveway, he checked the mirror. She’d moved to stand in the center of it, watching him leave.
Life, Dan thought, was about to get a whole lot more complicated.