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face was bright red, and Wyatt had started to take on a sweaty sheen. Christina felt for them and the pressure the matron of the family was putting on them. At least she wasn’t in their shoes. She might be asked about her relationship status all the time—it was the curse of being over twenty-three and not married—but those questions were far easier to field when compared to talk about babies.

      Thankfully, before any more uncomfortable questions, the door to Winnie’s room opened. They all went silent.

      Waylon walked into the kitchen. He frowned. “What’s going on? Why are you guys so quiet?”

      Eloise smiled. “What, kiddo? We aren’t being quiet. We were just waiting on you two rascals to be done playing around before we sit down to eat.” She motioned to the roast, once again taking control of the situation like a master.

      Christina smiled. She could learn a few things from Eloise.

      “Okay.” From the way Waylon stood there looking at his mother for a moment, it was easy to see he didn’t believe her, but he didn’t press them further. He shook his head and turned away from them toward the hall. “If you are all ready, I’m proud to present Princess Leonia of Leo Land and her cat, Mr. Puffy Face.” He gave an over-the-top whirl of the hand and a deep, exaggerated bow.

      He stood up and started to hum the theme song for the Miss America pageant. Christina couldn’t help the laugh that escaped her. It was surreal to be watching the oh-so-handsome MP doing tongue trills for the entrance of a two-year-old.

      Winnie marched into the kitchen. Her walk was more like the cowgirl she was instead of the princess she was pretending to be. She had on the pink Sleeping Beauty gown, her bandaged arm was wrapped with tinfoil to make it look like a clunky sword and she wore a foil crown. The crumpled and uneven crown had two large spikes Christina was sure were supposed to be purely decorative but looked conspicuously like devil horns.

      Winnie had on bright pink lipstick that was smeared over her teeth as she smiled, and it was heavy on the left side of her mouth, like Waylon had pressed too hard while applying. Winnie smiled brightly, the motion filling her eyes with joy.

      Oh, what it would have been to be a child once again, to find true, unadulterated joy in things most stodgy adults thought ridiculous. It would have been so nice to go back to those moments in life, where a thing like playing dress-up was all it took to forget one’s troubles. There were no concerns of what was to come, bills that needed to be paid or the things that were required to make another person happy. There was just one pink dress and one ill-fitting tinfoil crown.

      Wyatt leaned in close so only Christina could hear him. “He isn’t perfect, neither is his life, but maybe he wouldn’t be such a bad dad after all.”

      He hadn’t needed to tell her what she was already thinking. Some things—like the look of pride that Waylon was giving Winnie—spoke volumes about what it meant to truly love. And love was the only thing that really mattered.

       Chapter Six

      Waylon had never been one for sleep much, but last night had been long and filled with dark shadows. It was almost as if Dunrovin had started to move in around him, threatening to trap him with its candy canes and pink princesses. He had managed to escape once before, but it had been when things had been ending with Alli. Now that he was back at the ranch, it was hard to remember any of the other reasons he’d left besides his disastrous marriage.

      Rolling out of bed and making his way to the kitchen, he was surprised to find Christina already standing in front of the coffeepot as it percolated and bubbled with life. The scent of hot coffee filled the kitchen, but beneath it was the heady aroma of the woman standing with her back to him. The strange mixture made him suck in a long breath, pulling the scent of her deep into his lungs. She smelled like shampoo, hay and something earthy. It reminded him of something he couldn’t quite put his finger on.

      Christina swayed her hips as though she were dancing to a song only she could hear, but as she moved, she hummed a few bars. A piece of hair fell from the butterfly clip that held up her blond locks. She was so dang beautiful. If he wasn’t here about her sister, if he was just living his everyday and somewhat mundane life back at Fort Bragg, he would have made his move. As it was, he simply stood there, taking her in.

      Last night there had been a moment when he’d been dancing with Winnie in her princess dress and he had caught Christina smiling. That look had almost made it seem possible she liked him, but he wasn’t sure he was qualified to get a good read on that woman. She was so confusing. Mad one minute, and the next she was giving him a look that in most circles meant they would be exchanging more than phone numbers.

      He chuckled.

      Christina turned around with a jump. “How long have you been standing there?” She pulled at her Van Halen nightshirt. There was a hole over her left hip, and her hand found the spot like she hated the thought of him seeing any part of her naked flesh.

      He smiled as he stared at her fingers and thought about the word naked. Just the thought made his body quiver to life. Yes, he could handle seeing her lying on his bed, waiting, wanting.

      “Waylon, how long have you been there?” She gave him a look as though she was wondering if he had lost his mind.

      “Huh? Not long.” He forced himself to look at the clock on the stove while he tried to get his body back under control, but mornings and him...well, it was just another battle that he rarely seemed to win. He shifted his weight to hide anything that might have slipped into view. “Actually, I was just going to grab a cup of joe before heading up to where they found Alli’s car.”

      “I thought you might have something in mind. I’m glad I caught you. I want to go.”

      “Haven’t you already gone up there?” A minute ticked by on the clock.

      She turned back to the cupboard and took out two travel mugs. “Yep, but after I saw you work the investigation on the car yesterday...well, I would love to think that you might be able to pull something from the scene, just like you pulled that note out of the headliner.”

      That was pure dumb luck, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to admit it to her. He liked the thought of her thinking he had some special gift when it came to an investigation. He would take being her hero any day.

      “I doubt there’s anything left up there for us to find. They went over that scene pretty good, according to Wyatt’s notes. And it’s been nearly a full week. By now, between the weather and normal wear and tear—well, we’d be lucky to even find the exact spot.”

      “I’ve been up there. I can show you where they found the car.” Christina sloshed the coffee into the cups. Her hands were shaking slightly.

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