LITMIR.BIZ

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the man. Instead of coming inside, they moved across the yard and disappeared from view. A part of Julian wanted to follow, to make sure she was okay, but then his senses came back.

      He didn’t know Madeline and thinking he had to protect her was foolish. His mother would have scolded him for his presumptions that the innkeeper was some kind of hurt, damaged woman in need of saving. For cripes’ sake, he’d only just met her.

      Julian knew from experience that there were more people walking the earth with scars than with smooth, untouched skin. That didn’t mean he had to try to save them all.

      That didn’t mean they needed saving in the first place.

      First impressions were tricky like that.

      The first smile was easy.

      It was everything after that got a little murky when trying to decipher them.

      His room was in the far corner of the second-floor landing. It was a big difference from the hotel rooms he’d been frequenting and, if he was being honest, the apartment he’d been living in the last several years. The room was spacious and stretched much wider than he thought was possible. Not only was there a king-size bed, there was an adjoining sitting area and a desk and a three-piece bathroom. He was surprised and happy to note that the showerhead was high enough to allow him to stand up straight beneath it, a luxury his apartment had never afforded him. In his Special Forces unit he’d been known as the Lumberjack. It wasn’t that inventive of a nickname but it was apt. Julian was built tall, wide and muscled like his father before him. Most times it translated into unintentional intimidation. Other times it meant he had to hunch over in the shower.

      Julian threw his bag down just as his phone started to ring.

      The caller ID read Chance Montgomery.

      “Mercer,” Julian greeted. He walked to one of the windows that ran along the room and looked through the blinds. He spotted Madeline at the table where she’d been sitting when he’d pulled up earlier. Her male companion stood across from her. Julian couldn’t get a read off of him.

      “You know, we’ve been friends for a few years now,” Chance said in his Southern twang. “Answering with a ‘hello’ or even a ‘howdy’ instead of your last name would make our conversations a little more casual and a little less like I’ve just accidentally called my old high school math teacher and she’s still mad about the gum I put on her chair that one time.”

      Julian chuckled.

      “Old habits die hard,” he responded, actively loosening his shoulders by rolling them. “Brevity and precision have been my friends in the military for a while now.”

      “Luckily for you, the private sector has a lot fewer friends.” He paused and then laughed. “Well, you know what I mean.”

      “It means I need to say ‘howdy’ apparently.”

      Chance laughed again.

      “You can’t see it but I’m giving you a type of salute you also wouldn’t find in the military. It has to do something with a certain finger.”

      They joked around for a few more minutes before Chance finally circled back to the reason for the call. Julian didn’t mind the chatter; in fact, it was one of the reasons he was headed to Chance’s workplace in Alabama. Chance, a cowboy by upbringing but, lately, a surprisingly skilled bodyguard, was one of the few civilian friends Julian had kept through his marine service over the last ten years. Julian not only liked him but was confident he could work alongside him, which was why he was interviewing at the private protection firm Chance’s uncle owned.

      “I just wanted to make sure you were stopping to smell the roses in Overlook and not rushing here,” Chance said, losing his earlier humor. “The interview isn’t until next week and as long as I’ve known you, you haven’t had a vacation, one that actually counted. So I’ll reiterate one more time and then let it go. Enjoy yourself, go watch a sunset, sleep in, buy a lady a drink. You’ll thank me for that advice when you’re out in Germany away from all the Southern hospitality you’ve been hitting on your way here.”

      Julian knew Chance was right. His last deployment before he officially left the military started the week after his interview. Then he would hopefully return to Alabama and finally, finally stay put for a while.

      “I’ll make sure to smell the roses,” Julian promised. “I’m here for two days and then on to Nashville for the next three. I should be at your place after that.”

      Chance must have thought this was acceptable. He ended the call without any more constructive criticism. Julian stayed at his spot by the window, admiring the curve of the mountain in the distance. Then his gaze dropped to the innkeeper.

      Two days here and then he’d be one step closer to a new life.

      * * *

      “I’M NOT TRYING to destroy the family, Des.”

      Madeline Nash watched as her brother tried to save face moments after showing his backside. He took his dark gray Stetson, pressed it against his thigh and blew out a sigh she recognized as frustration.

      “I didn’t say that and you know it.”

      Madi pulled out her long braids, tamed the waves with her fingers and then sectioned her hair again. She separated it into three parts. Ever since she was a little girl she did what her eldest brother, Declan, had dubbed “angry-braiding.” It wasn’t like she could correct him. The evidence throughout her thirty years of life was fairly damning. Every scowl or frown captured in photographs or home movies was accompanied by long braids down her back or across her shoulders.

      Some people counted to ten to cool off; she made her hair more manageable.

      “You didn’t have to say the words, Des. You gave me that look and then that tone. Don’t for a minute deny it, either. Even outside our triplet telepathy I know your moods.”

      Desmond rolled his eyes. It was his trademark move for their disagreements.

      “All I asked was if you had been to the ranch lately,” Des countered. “I didn’t suggest you were destroying anything, let alone our family.”

      Madi tried not to let the guilt move into her gut again. Instead she channeled her irritation. Her hands went across her chest and her chin rose a fraction.

      “And why would you ask that? You’ve never asked about me going to the ranch before.”

      “Because up until three months ago, you lived on that ranch.”

      If Desmond had been anyone else, Madi would have blushed at how childish she knew she sounded. But he was her brother. So she huffed and pretended there was nothing wrong with what she’d just said. She finished the braid over her left shoulder, then looked at anything but him.

      “For your information, I had lunch with Ma and Nina a few weeks ago and it was lovely.”

      Desmond gave her a pointed stare.

      “And was that at the ranch or in town?”

      It was Madi’s turn to roll her eyes. It didn’t matter that she was an adult who had opened and currently ran her own business; Desmond still found a way to make her feel like she was a child again. A child who was perpetually in need of a guide to help her through the life he thought she should be living. It was at all times frustrating; seldom was it touching. In those few instances, a voice deep inside Madi would remind her why Desmond was protective of her more than he was with her brothers.

      Now wasn’t that time.

      “You’re making it sound like I’ve abandoned my family,” she said. “As you said yourself, I’ve lived on that ranch for basically all of my life. I don’t have to set foot on the property every day, you know.”

      Des rolled his eyes again. They were bright and ever-changing blue, just like hers and Caleb’s. Madi felt another jab of guilt looking into them. He’d been the first person she’d told

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