She was free to go.

  It was over.

  Jackson had left the bed to take the call, pulling on a robe as he did so. Wrapping herself in a sheet, she’d followed him out to the kitchen. Sat on the stool she’d occupied for most of the day before as he put coffee on. A full pot, not the single cup she’d seen him make before.

  There’d been no specific explanation for that note with the Evergreen address in her aunt’s thing. Obviously, her mother had given it to her. Probably when Mason won the deed.

  Maybe Aunt Bonnie had suspected wrongdoing, maybe she’d even looked into things and had gotten nowhere. Maybe Aimee had said some things when she’d first moved to New Orleans.

  Maybe Bonnie had chosen to just let it all go and keep Aimee safe.

  And maybe her aunt hadn’t had a clue about any of it. Had taken everything she’d been told at face value.

  Maybe she’d just forgotten she even had the address.

  “I’ll call and get a flight back to New Orleans,” Aimee said, because she had to go. Her life was there. And he’d given her no indication that he wanted her to stay.

  Not that she would if he asked, necessarily, but he hadn’t even given her the choice.

  He nodded, which irked her.

  Okay, hurt her.

  But she couldn’t blame him. She’d known the ropes going in. Hell, she’d set the bar—saying it was just sex.

  Note to self, next time set the bar high enough to leave a door open for possibility.

  “I’d like to stay long enough to hear what Grayson’s lawyer has to say,” she blurted, as the lifeline occurred to her—the one thing that wasn’t yet resolved.

  All other questions had been answered.

  “His office opens at eight,” Jackson came back, his tone commonplace. Unemotional. Looking so so so good to her in that light cotton robe, with the belt only haphazardly tied around his waist. “I’ll call him then.”

  Aimee used the time in between to call the airlines, book herself a flight that afternoon. Call Beth and let her know she’d be arriving, though she had her own car at the airport and wouldn’t need a ride. Still, it was good to have someone know she’d be landing, be home. She showered. She packed.

  She didn’t cry. There’d be no more tears.

  She’d found her missing pieces and had a whole life ahead of her.

  She was standing beside Jackson when he made the call to the attorney, and was surprised to hear that the man wanted to see the two of them. Not just Jackson, but her, too.

  That compensation that Boyd had talked about? Had he actually gone so far as to contact his lawyer about it? Had gifting her been part of his plan before leaving the country? Not killing her? As long as she didn’t remember...

  In a short-sleeved plain black cotton dress that hung to just above her knees, and her black-studded sandals, she rode with Jackson to the lawyer’s office. It wasn’t like she had her own car to drive.

  “Will you take me to the airport this morning?” she asked. If not, she could get a rideshare. Or...wait...did rideshares come out to small remote mountain towns? If not, Kelly had offered to take her.

  “Of course.”

  Okay, good. She’d have two whole hours with him before she left. Maybe they could talk. Maybe decide to stay in touch. Maybe he’d even come to New Orleans for a visit some time.

  Half an hour later she walked out of the lawyer’s office completely stunned. Not in tears, but shocked to her core.

  “Boyd knew all along that his father had left all the Evergreen personal assets to Grayson, with Boyd as the executor and trustee of the funds, but with me as the heir upon Grayson’s death, and as trustee in the event of Boyd’s death.” She’d repeated the statement twice since leaving the office.

  Someday, she was coming into a fortune. And she didn’t want it.

  Starting from that moment, she was in charge of Grayson Evergreen’s financial care. Something that could be easily tended to from New Orleans. The attorney had made that clear. Offering to act as fiduciary on her behalf. She’d left, promising to call him to arrange just that. She’d just needed a minute or two to process and he’d already had another appointment scheduled first thing that morning.

  “The business assets are all going to Boyd’s son,” she said aloud, though Jackson had been sitting in the room with her. Had heard everything she’d heard. “He’s going to get a heck of a phone call today.”

  “He hasn’t seen or spoken to Boyd since he was a kid,” Jackson offered, but, otherwise, had been strangely silent.

  As he’d been all morning.

  If she hadn’t known better, she’d think she’d spent the night with his twin. Another man entirely.

  It was like the tenderness, the passion, the intimacy they’d shared had never been.

  And so, when she got back to his house, she went straight upstairs, put the last things in her suitcase, zipped it up. Loaded her laptop into the carry-on and closed that up, too. Ready for Jackson to take everything downstairs.

  He’d said he’d be right up.

  She heard his step on the stairs.

  And sat on the side of the bed. Arms crossed.

  One leg flung over the top of her suitcase.

  He stood in the doorway, looking at the bag he was supposed to take down to his car.

  She didn’t remove her leg.

  “What’s up?” he asked. Attentive as usual.

  “I don’t want to go, Jackson.” She hadn’t planned the words. They’d just flown right out. But she wasn’t sorry. She liked them.

  “What do you mean, you don’t want to go?”

  “I don’t want to go.” She’d said what she meant. But, for his sake, added, “I want to stay.”

  “Stay where?”

  The man was not that dense. But he also wasn’t mean. If he didn’t want her, he’d tiptoe around telling her so.

  She didn’t want tiptoeing. She wanted messy.

  “Here. In this house. With you.” She’d only known him going on her sixth day. Didn’t care. Had never been more sure of anything in her life. “And I want us to be Gay Gay’s family. I want us to be his fiduciary, to get him in a facility closer to Evergreen, and maybe even have him home for weekends if his doctors think that would work.”

  “I was born in this town,” she continued, and when started, words just came pouring out of her. “If Boyd hadn’t killed my parents I’d have grown up here. With you. We’d have gone to kindergarten together, and grade school. And high school.”

  Tears clogged her throat at what might have been. She blinked, and, when she could said, “Think about it, Jackson. No way you and I would have been in a small class together and not hooked up. Look at us—five days and we’re all over each other all night long.”

  He still wasn’t talking. But his expression was intense as he looked at her.

  “So...stuff happened,” she said. “Boyd Evergreen happened, and our future together was interrupted, but it called me back here. I couldn’t move forward...thirty years and no significant relationship. Pieces of me were here all along, Jackson. The biggest pieces. I’ve found them now.”

  He swallowed. Blinked a couple of times.

  And she took the greatest risk of her life. “And the biggest one...it’s standing right in front of me looking like he’s feeling a bit green. You can stop me anytime. Load up my bags and I promise I’ll be silent all the way to Flagstaff...”

  He didn’t load up her bags. He didn’t even take a step toward her bag. He looked shell-shocked, like too much had hit him.

  Maybe not green, though. Maybe more red. She’d call Beth. The woman had managed the shop for Bonnie long before Aimee became a partner. Aimee mostly handled the online side of things. They could work something out.

  “Family is what matters most, Jackson,” she said softly. “And my family is here. It always has been.”

  He leaned a bit in her direction. Didn’t take a step. So, standing, she took one. “Family isn’t rules and laws and protocol,” she said softly. “It’s ice cream on your nose. Tears. The deepest pains. Incredible passion. And the greatest joys. It means never being alone, even after death. Because family is in the heart. You got what it takes to handle that, Sheriff?”

  She knew he did. Just needed him to know he did.

  She wasn’t going it alone anymore. Not even to be with him.

  She’d wait. Another thirty years if that was what it took for him to figure it out.

  She saw the well of moisture in his eyes, and had her answer. She couldn’t see him clearly anymore, not through her own blurred vision, but she met him halfway. Fell against him, into his arms, wrapping her own so tightly around him, she hurt. And didn’t care.

  “I know it’s soon, but I love you, Jackson Redmond,” she whispered against his neck.

  “I love you, too, Aimee. You are my first love. And my last.” The words were said shakily, right into her ear. “Wherever you go, I will follow.”

  The lyrics of a song she used to love. She didn’t question how he’d known that.

  Her heart knew. And sighed. Filling with happiness.

  Because, finally, after thirty long years, it was open, again.

  * * *

  Don’t miss these other Sierra’s Webb titles:

  His Lost and Found Family, Special Edition.

  Reluctant Roommates, Special Edition.

  Tracking His Secret Child, Romantic Suspense.

  Her Best Friend’s Baby, Special Edition.

  Keep reading for an excerpt from Her K-9 Protector by Kimberly Van Meter.

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  Her K-9 Protector

  by Kimberly Van Meter

  Chapter 1

  “Kenna, can you put Noble and Officer Merritt into Room Two?”

  Without looking, Kenna Griffin finished filing and rose with a ready smile—only to stop short at the man waiting in the lobby with the impeccably trained German shepherd. Noble didn’t react to anything but his partner’s cues, despite a yapping poodle and a skittish cocker spaniel.

  And his partner stole Kenna’s breath.

  Kenna vaguely remembered something her sister had mentioned over dinner about the new K-9 officer hired through an extension grant that saved the program from being axed. Still, she hadn’t mentioned the man being good-looking as hell.

  Not too tall but tall enough, a solid build that tapered to lean hips and a full head of dark hair that looked as if given half the chance, it would spring into a riot of stubborn curls—Officer Merritt was eye candy to a female population with a sweet tooth.

  Which, for Kenna, was a big red flag flapping in front of her.

  Although a tough pill to swallow, Kenna had finally accepted the bitter truth about her internal compass—when it came to picking good guys, the damn thing was broken.

  And she’d made a vow to herself that men were out of the picture until she could get herself figured out. She owed that much to her son, Ty, who’d been through the wringer right alongside her, and she was determined to make better choices.

  Especially after the last guy. An involuntary shudder passed through Kenna. You’re safe. He can’t find you. Stay focused. Everything is fine.

  “Kenna?” Isabel’s inquiry punctured Kenna’s stall. She recovered with an even brighter smile, even if it was more fake than a three-dollar bill. She’d only just gotten this job at the veterinary office. She wasn’t about to blow it over something as stupid as a momentary glitch in her hormonal brain.

  “Sorry, yes, absolutely,” she said, motioning to the officer and his K-9 partner, “if you’ll follow me.”

  Once inside the exam room, she pulled the chart to take notes for Dr. Mallory. “And what brings you here today?”

  “I think Noble might’ve tweaked his paw running after a perp the other night. He seems to be favoring it a bit. I wanted to get him checked out, just to be sure.”

  Kenna, always a sucker for an animal in need, softened at the mention of a perceived injury. “Poor guy. Did he catch his suspect?”

  “He did,” Officer Merritt answered with pride, his brown eyes lighting up as his mouth curved in a grin. “The perp will likely think twice about trying to outrun a working police dog like Noble. His teeth are as fast as his feet.”

  Kenna forgot and smiled with genuine delight but cocked her head, recalling, “I thought it wasn’t PC to have dogs biting people anymore, even if they’re criminals.”

  “There are two kinds of K-9 training—bite and bark. The dogs trained to bite will apprehend the suspect with their teeth on an arm or a leg. The bark dog is trained to alert the officer of the location of the perp without contact. Noble is a bite dog. Much more effective, if you ask me, but yeah, some departments are reluctant to take on the liability of a bite-trained K-9 and opt for the bark.”

  Kenna wished someone had sicced their police dog on her ex the last time he put her in the hospital. Stop it. Don’t go there. Let the past die. “Well, he’s beautiful, and I hope his paw is okay. The doctor will be in shortly.”

  But before she could leave, the officer said, “I’m new to town, so I haven’t met everyone yet. What’s your name?”

  No personal details. The knee-jerk reaction was part of her new playbook, but he worked with her sister at the police station, and they were bound to run into each other again when the town was impossibly small. “Kenna Griffin,” she answered, knowing it wouldn’t take long for the light of recognition to dawn.

  “Griffin? Any relation to Detective Luna Griffin?” he asked.

  “She’s my older sister,” Kenna confirmed with a short smile, taking that as her cue to exit gracefully, but he was too quick.

  “Like I said, I’m new to town. Lucas Merritt,” he said with a good-natured grin that seemed too wholesome for someone like her. If he only knew the skeletons in her closet, he might not be so eager to get to know her. “Originally from Kansas, but don’t hold that against me. I’m already loving Montana.”

  “Welcome to Cottonwood,” she murmured with a short smile, relieved as Dr. Mallory rounded the corner so she could make a quick exit. But she added, “Nice to meet you,” and then practically ran back to the front desk.

  Isabel, her coworker, finished checking in a tabby cat with a torn ear and a sour disposition, then turned to Kenna, eager to gossip and trade notes about the newest Cottonwood resident.

  “It isn’t every day a man like that walks into town. I could drown in those eyes,” Isabel said with a sigh. “Mmm, men like him are a reminder that God does, in fact, have favorites.”

  “I didn’t notice,” Kenna lied with an airy smile, returning to her filing even as her heart pounded against her rib cage. “He’s probably married, though.”

  Please be married.

  “He’s not,” Isabel returned with a certainty that spoke of research behind the scenes. “Lucas Merritt became Cottonwood’s most eligible bachelor the minute he stepped into town. I wish he were a little bit taller, though. Then he’d be almost perfect.”

  Kenna frowned. “He’s tall,” she said. “I mean, he seems tall enough.”

  Isabel mentally sized Lucas up from memory. “Hmm, I’d say probably about five-ten. I like guys who are at least six foot.”

  Kenna paused, glancing over at Isabel with mild confusion. “You’re barely five foot two. Why would you want someone so much taller than you?”

  Isabel shivered with a slight grin. “Just feels more masculine when they’re towering over you. Not that I don’t enjoy a short king. I’m just saying, if I’m looking to settle down, I want my future baby daddy to have some height to pass on to the kids.”

  Isabel was younger than Kenna, and conversations like this were a stark reminder of that age gap. Life had taught Kenna that a man’s height didn’t make him a good person. “Well, sounds like a permanent crick in the neck when they’re too tall,” she said, eager to change the subject. “I’m going to do a quick check on the spayed pit mix. Watch the front for me?”

  “I could check the pit if you want,” Isabel offered, gesturing toward exam room two, but that was exactly why Kenna didn’t want to be around. Let Isabel drool over Cottonwood’s newest eligible bachelor. Kenna didn’t want anything to do with a man like him.

  Or any man, for that matter.

  It was safer that way.

  * * *

  Lucas Merritt listened with half an ear to Dr. Mallory as she examined Noble’s paw, a bit too distracted by the exotic woman who’d nearly blown him over at first glance. Common sense told him getting hooked by the first beautiful woman he saw in his new environment was a bad idea. He’d put it into his head that he’d stay single for a year while he got his bearings in his new town. Seemed like a solid plan at the time, but how was he supposed to hold himself to that plan when a woman like Kenna Griffin waltzed into his life? Those high cheekbones were sharp enough to cut glass, but those dark eyes were like those of a doe, wild and untamed yet gentle.

  She had the kind of face men in history books went to war over.

  He wasn’t the poetic type, but the flutters in his gut weren’t from the burrito he’d eaten earlier. The last time he’d felt this kind of jolt, he’d fallen head over heels for the devil’s concubine, who’d nearly destroyed his life. Not a great endorsement for the flutters, which was why he’d made the plan to stay single until the dust settled on his move. He’d spent a long time reading up on repeating patterns and whatnot, and he was determined to avoid that trap like a bad haircut.