The girls grumbled about missing day camp. They wanted to swim.

  She didn’t want them in any other public space where their grandparents could just be hanging out, hoping for a glimpse of them.

  Because she didn’t believe that was all her in-laws had been doing. If they’d had the chance, they’d have taken her daughters. She’d bet money on it.

  She just had no proof of anything criminal to report.

  Nothing but hearsay—which wouldn’t be enough for any kind of subpoena or warrant, and...

  At five after twelve, normally the day-camp attendees’ lunch break in the park, her phone rang.

  Jennifer Fitzgerald.

  She’d left a message.

  Wanted to know if the girls were okay. Requested at least a text as reassurance that Claire and Neve weren’t sick.

  And Theresa knew...they’d been watching the park.

  Looking for their chance.

  Knew it and had no way to prove it. The only way she could get protection would be if they actually did more than talk and watch.

  And then it would be too late.

  Chapter 3

  With only a few days shaved off his month of leave, Ezra went against better judgment and headed back to the Sunshine Senior Home. He’d been fond of Aunt Alice while growing up. Had found at her house solace from the cacophony in a home with eleven siblings, many close in age.

  He liked order. Aunt Alice had been orderly.

  She’d also been unimpressed by Ben Colton’s stature in the community or his wealth. She’d liked her niece’s husband for the love he gave to his family.

  And after the scandal, that hadn’t changed. Ben had done very wrong things. The man had used his ill-gotten gains to pay for the best of the best for all of them.

  Ezra had never needed the best things, though. He’d needed his father to be the hero he’d once thought him. Aunt Alice had helped him see, in part, that Ben hadn’t been all bad. After Ben’s arrest, the shame he’d brought to his wife and dozen kids, Ben had still cared for his family. On some level, that mattered.

  In Alice’s current state—even if she hadn’t been sleeping soundly in bed that afternoon—she wasn’t able to remember who Ezra was, let alone the lessons she’d taught him.

  Or the familial love she’d bestowed upon him at a critical age.

  Which was why Aunt Alice hadn’t been his sole reason for visiting the home today. When he didn’t see Theresa around, he found her office.

  The door was locked. And an aide, seeing him standing there, offered the information that Mrs. Fitzgerald was working from home that day.

  Since he’d been spotted lurking, he figured the only decent thing to do would be to stop by Theresa’s place, to let her know he’d been looking. Just so she didn’t hear about it through the grapevine and figure she had to seek him out to see what he’d wanted.

  A stretch...but with just enough logic to have his rental Jeep pulling into her drive a few minutes after three. He had a legitimate reason to talk to her.

  A phone call would have worked.

  If he’d had her number.

  He’d been so bowled over by his encounter with her and her girls that he’d failed to ask for basic information. Her address had been a matter of public record.

  She hadn’t invited him to call her.

  She hadn’t invited him to knock on her front door, either. The place needed paint. Though Ben’s crimes hadn’t left the family penniless, Ezra had painted a house or two to earn money the summer before his senior year in high school. If wealth had been the cause for his father’s walk to the dark side, Ezra had figured he wanted no part of it.

  He had a month to kill at home. Maybe, just like the work had helped him deal with being around family so much that summer, he could do a little painting over the next month, too. And help out a widowed mother in the process.

  Lord knew, not a lot of people had helped out his widowed mother back in the day.

  There was no hesitation in his knock on the door of the modest home. He had information, an activity invitation of sorts, and was eager to share it. He’d asked his younger brother for a favor—and the smirk Jasper had sent him, the slightly snarky comment about Ezra asking favors on a woman’s behalf, had been well worth the chance to be the bearer of good news.

  “Ezra?” The surprise in Theresa’s voice as she pulled open the door was obvious. He didn’t know her well enough to be able to tell if there was pleasure mixed in there as well. “I just had a call from Bonnie that you’d been by to see me.”

  The aide. He’d made the right choice, following up with her at home. Better that than have her wonder why he’d stopped to see her.

  “I guess, in light of the fact that we have a barbecue to get to on Saturday, we should have exchanged phone numbers.”

  She came outside, pulling the door mostly closed behind her. Her hair was up in the same messy kind of bun she’d worn the day before. He noticed right away that he hadn’t imagined the auburn glints in the dark strands.

  “I apologize for the shorts and T-shirt,” she told him. “Since I’m working from home, and the girls wanted to go down to the river for lunch...” She shrugged.

  Did she think he was on a business visit? He’d thought mention of the barbecue had made his intentions clear...

  “Should I apologize for my shorts and sandals, then?” he shot back at her. Same basic attire he’d had on the day before. Different-color shorts and shirt.

  And he’d changed his skivvies, too. Not that she’d have any cause for the information.

  “I’m just not used to...a Colton, here? I...”

  “I’m an enlisted army man,” he told her. “Straight out of high school. You’ve got your master’s degree in health management. I saw from the letters behind your name on your office door. I’m guessing that if anyone should feel lesser here, it would be me.”

  He had no idea who her parents had been or what kind of family she’d grown up in, but he’d bet everything he had that her father hadn’t been headed for spending the rest of his life in prison before dying in a car crash.

  “You’re driving a luxury Jeep that could easily buy my old van four times over.”

  “It’s a rental. And I don’t vacation much.”

  They could go on. He grew up in a big house—was staying there with his mom.

  “Just to be clear,” he said, “I’ve already told my mother that I don’t want any Colton money, which is really just whatever she’s made in her graphic design business and from her investments. I’m never going to be a rich man. Wealth doesn’t equal health and happiness, in my book.”

  The compassion that filled her expression about sent him to his knees.

  What the hell...?

  Before she could speak, and split him wide-open, he said, “I came by to tell you—and the girls—that I’ve made arrangements for them to have horseback rides on Saturday. It’ll probably be best that they wear jeans, to protect their legs from saddle burn and horsehair, and boots.”

  Somehow, he came off sounding all lord of the manor. Not him at all.

  To defend against any pity she might have been about to bestow upon him.

  He wasn’t that guy, either. But... “My brother Jasper stopped by Mom’s this morning, and I cleared it with him,” he allowed. It wasn’t his manor he was lording over.

  “I don’t want to impose,” she said then, her eyes squinting somewhat in the afternoon sun. The brightness also gave them a glow he was pretty sure he was never going to forget.

  The kindness that seemed to emanate naturally from the woman...

  To a man who spent his life fighting enemies—always expecting bad guys to be lurking around every corner—she was...nice.

  For a brief moment.

  “You aren’t imposing. The horses are going to need exercise. Jasper was actually glad for the chance to get new bodies up on them. I guess several of the buildings at the ranch experienced storm damage a while ago, and they have to close for repairs.”

  A fact that could have been financially difficult for Jasper and Aubrey, except that Naomi was going to be renting the ranch out for filming, so it had all worked out.

  Sometimes, being from a big, dynamic family had its benefits.

  “Well, then, the girls will be thrilled!” Theresa said. “And I’ll let you tell them about it yourself, if you’d like.”

  He’d like to. And was suddenly loath to walk inside that home, too. To get in too deep. “It’s hot out. Why don’t we all go for ice cream? Unless it’s too close to dinner?” There’d been strict rules in the Colton household—at least, according to his memory—about snacking too close to mealtime. Maybe because he’d always been the one trying to snag cookies before he had to contend with vegetables and other such things.

  Her hesitation that time was unmistakable. She actually stepped back, and there was no sign of a smile, or even any welcome on her face.

  She was a widow whose husband had been gone only a year. He totally got it.

  “Just as friends,” he quickly assured her. “I’m in town for a month, and then it’s off to another assignment God knows where. I’m not making moves here. I just...felt good around you and your daughters yesterday and would like to ease your way for a second or two, if I can.” He’d get to the painting offer later. A military man knew how to pick his battles. “Seriously, you’d be taking pity on me,” he added, thinking about how he’d just eschewed the idea that she’d do so. And then he told her in all truthfulness, “You and Claire and Neve are much easier to be around than the pack of Coltons waiting to take their turns at grilling me and then giving their opinions as to my life choices...”

  He loved them all. Would give his life for any of them.

  And hated that they always tried to get up in his business. Like they knew better than him what was best.

  The fact that their concern very likely stemmed from worry did ease the burden a bit.

  But Coltons versus ice cream? The choice was a no-brainer.

  Luckily, Theresa seemed to see the value in the choice as well. With one last glance at Ezra, she called the girls, and within minutes they were all bundled into his rented Jeep, car seats installed and seat belts fastened, and heading out to a little family-owned place he knew of not far from town that had been serving homemade ice cream since before he was born.

  To anyone on the outside looking in, they probably looked like a real family.

  A happy one.

  Shaking his head at the thought, Ezra turned his mind to more important matters.

  With a quick glance in the rearview mirror, he asked, “What flavor of ice cream is your favorite?”

  And tried not to notice the sexy bare knees within hand’s reach on the passenger seat beside him.

  * * *

  The girls just wanted chocolate; she could have told Ezra that. Didn’t matter what kind of fancy, one-of-a-kind flavors the place made; they’d just want chocolate.

  It was all she really wanted, too, but at his suggestion, she ordered a chocolate brownie concoction that he’d said was to die for, and...he was right. Ambrosia in the mouth. So much so that she hated to swallow a single bite.

  Or maybe his smile was part of the reason she wanted that ice cream cone to last forever.

  That and the easy way he had of talking to the twins. Like they were equals, not little girls, and yet seeming to stay on topic for a six-year-old.

  Mostly, she noticed, he didn’t look at them or speak to them as if he felt sorry for them. Or was in any way trying to compensate for their loss.

  A change from everyone else who’d been around the girls over the past year.

  Out of town, in a vehicle no one would recognize, at a place no one would ever expect her to be, she actually started to relax, to let herself believe, just for a moment, that she was on a real date and she could one day have the happy family they must appear to be to all those around them at the outside picnic tables and going in and out of the shop.

  Right up until Claire said, “Grandpa said that we should wear our breathing helmets all the time when we’re sitting outside around other people. ’Cause the explosion will happen when lots of people are gathered together. Is this lots of people, do you think?”

  Neve shook her head. “No, Claire, this isn’t that kind of lots of people. Is it, Mom? That kind is bunches and bunches like you could build a really, really tall people tower, one that could almost reach the sky, huh?”

  “Remember, I told you, there isn’t going to be an explosion,” Theresa said with a twist in her gut, careful to look only at her girls—so they’d have her full attention and be better able to trust her words. But also because she suddenly wanted to look anyplace but at Ezra Colton.

  So much for the real date.

  Or ice cream lasting forever.

  “But Grandpa said you’re wrong about that,” Claire told her, solemn as ever as she licked her ice cream, a chocolate ring surrounding the edges of her lips.

  Theresa didn’t want any more ice cream. She wanted to snatch her girls and run. Far. Fast. Forever.

  “When did Grandpa tell you that?” she had to ask—airing family problems in front of Ezra be damned. She’d explained about the explosion being a figment of their grandparents’ imagination after she’d banned the Fitzgeralds from seeing her girls.

  “You know,” Neve said. “The other day ago when we were on our swing set.”

  In their gated backyard? The couple had been on her property?

  “You were swishing the toilet,” Claire piped up. “They said not to bother you and they’d come back another day.”

  The only time she’d had the twins out of sight had been when she’d been cleaning the bathroom. Otherwise, she’d had them in view from one window to the next as she’d cleaned the house. That had been Saturday.

  Her in-laws could have taken the pair from their own backyard.

  The fact that they hadn’t didn’t mean as much as she’d like to hope. They were planners. Investigating their options. Collecting information that they’d process well, allowing for every eventuality, before making their move.

  Horror-struck, she could hardly pretend to enjoy the rest of the outing. She had to get home. The couple had been on her premises. Could that rank as rating a call to the police?

  Would anyone listen to her fears?

  Or merely find her as irrationally out of touch as she considered the older Fitzgeralds?

  They’d merely say they’d been by to visit her, that the girls had been outside, they’d asked for her, the girls had said she was busy, they’d said they’d come back...

  She heard the mental play-by-play with a sinking feeling of helplessness and dread.

  Tried to keep up with the chatter going on between Ezra and her daughters.

  And had never felt more alone in her life.

  Chapter 4

  The girls wanted to show Ezra their swing set. There was nowhere else he had to be.

  Nowhere else he wanted to be, either. He’d never hung out with a woman with kids before and was finding the experience enlightening.

  Children, their innocence, their lack of conversation filters, brought life to a different level.

  He wasn’t opposed to hanging out on the level for a second or two.

  His sister Rachel had recently become a mother. Isa’s first grandchild. Ezra had just met little Iris for the first time recently. Maybe that was why he was suddenly noticing a part of life he’d heretofore ignored.

  With one hand on each of the two little backs, he pushed both girls in tandem on their swings. Then he watched them take turns sliding down the slide in all kinds of contortions, meant, he was sure, to impress him.

  Truth was, the two feisty little beings did impress him. As did their mother, who was a lot quieter than she’d been at the beginning of their outing.

  He was pretty sure he knew why, and wasn’t leaving until he had a chance to make sure she and the girls were okay.

  Whether she sensed his intention or not, Ezra didn’t know, but when the twins tired of outdoor play and asked if they could go watch Frozen, she didn’t even pretend that she might follow right behind them. Unlocking the door for them, she stayed outside on the stoop with Ezra.

  Leaning a hand against the small porch support, he said, “I have to ask.”

  “I don’t have to answer.”

  “No. But I spend my life fighting bad guys to protect my country and all of her citizens,” he said, deadly serious. “That includes you and your daughters. What explosion? What helmets?”

  She said nothing.

  And she didn’t leave, either, when she could so easily have escaped into her home.

  “I thought, at first, that it was just some kind of game the girls played with their grandparents, but your reaction... When you heard they’d been in your backyard, you went white. And haven’t been the same since.”

  That time she nodded.

  “Are they your parents or their father’s?”

  “I never knew my parents.”

  Filled with a ton of new questions, all about her, Ezra waited. And knew that that conversation wasn’t any of his business.

  Obviously Theresa felt the same as she continued, “Mark was estranged from his folks.” A small peek into what he knew was going to be something bad.

  He needed to know how bad.

  And even with that, the way she said the man’s name... Mark...the familiarity and warmth, stung him. With jealousy. He was jealous of a dead man.

  But welcomed the needed reminder that Theresa was a grieving widow.

  “They’re extremists,” she said. “Irrationally obsessed with the belief that there’s going to be a nuclear attack that’s going to wipe out anyone who isn’t prepared. Mark walked away, refusing to have anything more to do with them when they started talking about giving some guy tens of thousands of dollars to build them a bunker somewhere. He said they hoarded everything from medical supplies and food, to guns and ammunition. But that was nearly fifteen years ago.”