Page 6 of Danger

I step into his space, chin tipping up. “I’m not that much younger than you.”

“You think that changes anything?”

“Yes,” I say quickly. “That I can handle myself now.”

“You might be old enough to argue,” he says easily, sealing it with a wink, “but you won’t win this argument.”

CHAPTER TWO

winnie

The secondI turn into the Stetson driveway, my car rattles like it’s offended I asked it to do one more thing today.

“Come on,” I beg, patting the steering wheel. “You’ve survived worse.”

Which is true. I bought this car when I was sixteen with saved up tip money from the bakery and pure optimism. It’s been held together by a prayer for the past seven years. The engine wheezes as I ease to a stop, dust curling up around me like it’s judging my choices.

I cut the ignition just as the door of the main house swings open.

“Well I’ll be damned,” a familiar voice calls. “Is that Winnie Hawthorne?”

I grin before I even look.

There’s only one kid I know who would ever speak like that. Someone well beyond his years, and also the funniest kid on the planet.

“Fisher Stetson,” I say, stepping out. “Is that you?”

“Do you know any other six-year-old with this smile?” He beams like I just handed him candy.

“Nope. Not one.”

He launches himself at me, and I barely brace in time before he wraps his arms around my middle.

I’m not sure I miss Trouble so much as I miss everything that came with him. His nephew. The way it always feels like sunshine here, even on cloudy days. Stetson men everywhere—wrestlin’, hollerin’, turning ordinary afternoons into entertainment whether you asked for it or not.

I still get to see Fisher at the bakery occasionally when PJ, Fisher’s nana, is next door at the salon getting her hair done. I always make sure he gets the freshest slice of pie that day.

He pulls away just long enough to inspect me. “Your car sounds worse.”

“Rude,” I say. “She’s doing her best.”

He nods solemnly. “That’s what Nana says about Uncle Ryder.”

I snort. “Where is your Nana?”

He points behind him. “In the kitchen. She’s makin’ lunch. And if you’re smart, you’ll come inside before anyone on the ranch gets word.”

“Sounds about right,” I say, following him inside.

PJ is in the kitchen, wiping her hands on a towel. The second she sees me, her face lights up.

“Winnie,” she says, pulling me straight into a hug. “It’s so good to see you.”

“Good to see you too,” I say, meaning it.

She steps back, eyes looking me over in that gentle way that somehow still sees everything.

“What brings you by today?”