Page 16 of Breathe Me In

“Who’s still looking for Brad,” I said, playing along with a warm smile and noted the hay stuck to his hand-knitted sweater. “Hi, Jerry, how are you?” I hugged him like he was my own father.

“I’m well, thanks.” He pointed for me to follow him over to the family cabin. “I was mighty surprised to hear that the SPD picked you up as a consultant. Never thought you’d come back here to work.”

“Not as surprised as I was.” I chuckled. Brad’s mother put her dishcloth down as I came inside. “Hi, Kim.”

“Bree, honey, it’s so nice to see you again.” She stepped back to look at me. “Still such a pretty face.”

I bypassed her comment and moved in to hug her.

“Are you hungry?”

“Always.” I grinned and let my gaze wander over toward Brad and his older brother, who had just come in the door.

“Wow.” His brother, Ronnie, whistled as he came up to me. “You haven’t changed a bit.”

“Wish I could say the same about you,” I joked, and he swatted my arm as he brushed past me. Ever since he was young, Ronnie had been all about the military, and his body reflected that lifestyle. He looked super fit.

“Morning.” Brad pretended not to check me out, but I’d caught his look while I spoke to his brother. After all, I had just done the same to him.

His mother called us over to the table. “Let’s go sit. Everything’s ready.” Brad pulled out my chair, and just as I sat, something soft brushed by my legs, and I jerked back at the intrusion.

“Oh!” A big golden retriever sat between Brad and me. “Well, hello there.”

Brad reached down and gave the pup a pat. “This is Ginger—she’s five but still thinks she’s a puppy thanks to certain people.” He tilted his head at his father.

“Oh, yeah.” Jerry laughed playfully as he handed me a plate of waffles. “I’m the problem.”

“Well, the first step is recognizing it,” I bantered back, making Kim chuckle. It was so comfortable how we all fell back into our old pattern.

I caught Ronnie’s face when a chime went off in the kitchen. His smile slipped, and his expression took on a distant look. He must have felt my eyes on him because he looked at me suddenly and seemed to blink the thoughts away. Ronnie suffered from PTSD, and I knew that there were times for him that were better than others.

Jerry set the syrup down in front of me. “Your parents must be pleased to have you home.”

“They are.”

“Has much changed?” Ronnie asked through a mouthful.

“Hmm.” I thought as I swallowed a bit of warm pastry. “Aside from the city guests, who all want that real ranch experience”—I finger quoted—“and the fact that my father’s best friend is a hefty pig named Kevin, things are pretty much the same.”

“Ah, yes, that little porker’s pretty funny.” Ronnie smirked at Brad. “Has your brother shared that he hired us to haunt the deep wood trail in October?”

“Seriously?” I laughed.

“The riders love it.” He stuck a fork in my direction. “One year we even did the Barbed Wire Killer.” The moment he said it, my soul dropped from my body.

“Ronnie,” Kim hissed. “Inappropriate.”

“Like I said then”—Brad’s pissed voice broke through my discomfort—“and like I say now, we don’t talk about that.”

“Sorry.” Ronnie smacked his brother’s arm, then looked at me. I looked away. “So, Bree, do you carry a gun?”

Brad choked on his coffee, and I glared at him. “No, and I don’t like to carry one.”

“Yeah, good thing.” Brad spit-laughed into his napkin. “If history has taught me anything, it’s that you have the worst aim.”

“No, I don’t.” My mouth dropped open as the memory came back to me. “You know I hit that squirrel.”

“No, I saw the slingshot veer so far left the squirrel went flying but only because the tree trunk next to it vibrated from your rock.”