Page 53 of Falling for the Grumpiest Protector

"I came later."

There's something in those three words that tells me not to push. So I don't. He notices. I can tell he notices. We reach the house. The exterior is old but beautifully maintained, with a wide porch and several rocking chairs.

"Some of the guys live here?"

"Some. We've added housing since then." He points toward two smaller buildings farther back. "Those are newer."

"How long do they stay?"

"However long makes sense."

I glance at him.

"No deadline?"

"Not that kind."

He shoves his hands into his pockets as we continue walking.

"People don't come out of the military on the same schedule, Hart. Some guys need a few months to figure out what's next. Some need longer. Some already have jobs and families and just need..." He pauses. "A place where they don't have to explain everything."

That lands. I look toward a man repairing a fence with another veteran.

"Does everyone work on the farm?"

"Everyone contributes somehow. Doesn't have to mean fieldwork."

"Like Lily."

His eyes shift to me.

"Yeah. Like Lily."

We walk a few more steps.

"She couldn't always do much physically. But she always found something."

His voice carries affection. Simple affection. The kind people have for someone who belonged.

"She was good at that."

"She was."

A familiar ache moves through me. This time I let it.

"Betty said she became part of the place."

Javier is quiet for a moment.

"She did."

I look at him.

"And Noah?"

That finally gets a smile.

"Noah thinks he runs the place."