“No,” Wolf said. “Garrett’s Watch is our legacy. Yours, too, come to that. I couldn’t leave it for good any more than I could... I don’t know. Settle down and have kids. It’s just not part of my DNA.”
“Our family had a pretty bad run with romances,” Eli said, not even asking why Wolf felt that way.
“Though, Sawyer is working on breaking the losing streak. But he’s convinced it’s all working out because Evelyn was a mail-order bride.”
“A mail-order bride,” Kate said, her eyes going wide with wonder. “Now, that’s something. I can’t imagine marrying a stranger.”
“No,” Connor said, his voice dry. “You had to marry the man who used to babysit you. And cause us endless grief in the process.”
“I can’t help it.” Kate shrugged. “I’m sexy. He couldn’t resist me.”
“Sure,” Eli said, his tone dry. “But I married a woman I once arrested. Now, that’s interesting.”
“I quite literally married my best friend,” Connor said.
“Well, nice to know some of us are breaking cycles. Others of us just prefer to avoid them.” He looked at the digital clock on the microwave. “Right. I better head back to the bed-and-breakfast. Early day tomorrow.”
“It will be,” Connor said.
“I’m on duty. I’ll catch you a different day.”
“I’ll be at our ranch. But hopefully I’ll see you for dinner.”
He nodded and said his goodbyes, walking down the front porch and heading toward his truck. Then he stopped and looked up at the stars. The same stars he could see from Four Corners.
And there was a strange sort of aching feeling in his chest at that particular realization.
He had moved. But it was the same sky. And he was the same Wolf.
And he still had the same old grief inside his chest.
It just was.
But at least there would be a different kind of work tomorrow. He would take that.
He damn well would.
CHAPTER THREE
VIOLETKNEWTHATranchers got up early. Very early. So she made it a point to get up at four and get a special breakfast on just for Wolf Garrett. And she told herself that she was breaking in protocol because he was kin to the Garretts. That was what she told herself. Except deep down she knew that she was obsessing over her hollandaise sauce because he was hot.
“The way to a man’s heart is a properly poached egg,” she said, whisking the sauce as speedily as possible.
She heard footsteps and her heart jumped up into her throat, and she quickly poured the sauce over the English muffin, Canadian bacon and poached egg. Then she grabbed a mug of coffee and walked out of the kitchen.
She just about ran into him.
He reached out to steady her, and a drop of coffee sloshed over the cup.
“Steady now,” he said.
“Oh,” she said, feeling flustered.
He looked down. “Bit early to be up having breakfast.”
“It’s for you,” she said.
“Oh, well, that’s... I’m headed...” He looked like he was going to decline, and then redirected. “Mighty nice of you,” he said. “I think I could eat.”