The two men completed their check of the horses in the barn before making their way back to the house. "So, Drake, I hear you have a new job." Cowboy sat back in the old rocker and propped his heel on the railing of the porch.

Beside him, sitting on the glider, Drake nodded. "Yeah." He puffed his chest up with pride. "I'm in charge of the barn at Double H. It's very important."

"I see," Cowboy answered.

"It is important." Drake insisted with a bit of a pout. "I have men that listen to me. They do what I tell them to do. I report directly to Loran Hoxha. He's one of the owners."

"That does sound important," Cowboy agreed as he watched Drake out of the corner of his eye. Even though the man was in his mid-twenties, he looked more like a petulant child. He sat with his back rigid staring at Cowboy with anger flashing in his eyes. Cowboy wondered for the hundredth time what Rissa saw in him. It must be love because nothing else made any sense.

"Rissa tells me you broke off the engagement again."

"Not that it's any of your business, Cowboy, but yes I did. I need to be focused on this job for a while. When I'm ready, we'll get married."

Cowboy snorted. "What if you wait too late? What if Rissa decides you aren't what she wants anymore? What are you going to do then?" He knew he was baiting the man, but he couldn't help the sense of happiness that warmed his stomach at the thought of just about anyone taking his sister from this weasel.

Drake threw his head back and laughed. "Who? I'm the best thing she has going, and she knows it. Rissa will wait for me. It doesn't matter how long it takes. When I'm ready, then and only then will we get married; when I have my own ranch, with my own herd. Until then, let her stew a bit. You know how women are. If you act like you don't have time for them, they'll fall all over themselves to keep your attention. I can handle Rissa just fine. Besides, it won't be much longer now. Money's flowing into the ranch fast, and I'm getting a good cut of it. I'll have enough saved by next Christmas to put my plans into action."

As he finished his speech, Drake rose to his feet and stepped off the porch. He sauntered toward the Double H Ranch truck parked in the yard. Cowboy watched him go with barely contained fury. "Good riddance," he murmured as the taillights of the pickup disappeared down the driveway.

He sat alone on the porch thinking about what Drake had said. Cowboy had a feeling Drake knew about the dumping. Surely he wasn't so stupid as to think money just appeared out of thin air? Everyone knew the ranch wasn't operational yet, so where did the money come from?

He was startled out of his musings by the sound of another vehicle starting up. Cowboy shot to his feet as Miley's truck backed up from its parking place at the side of the house. Stepping off the porch, he raised his hand as she turned around and headed down the driveway. He watched her lights disappear as well, but without the sense of righteous justification he felt when Drake left.

"Where's Drake?"

Rissa stood beside her brother and watched Miley's truck until it was gone.

"He left a few minutes ago. What happened with Miley?"

"He left? Why didn't he come in and tell me goodbye?"

Cowboy shrugged. "Why does he do anything? What happened with Miley?"

She turned around, climbed the porch steps and dropped into the glider. She pulled a shawl around and hugged herself tightly. "It's getting colder. They're calling for frost in a couple of days."

"I know when you're avoiding, Rissa."

"I learned from the best, big brother. What happened with Drake?"

Cowboy shrugged as he leaned against the porch rail. "I asked him about his plans, and he got upset. You know how I feel about him. He's a douche bag weasel fart. You can do much better."

Rissa laughed. "He's not a douche bag weasel fart. He's just trying to find his way in the world. He had plans and ideas; he needs time to put things into motion. Give him a break, Alcide. He's going to be family someday."

"Not if I can help it," he muttered under his breath.

"What?"

"Nothing. What about Miley?"

Rissa lifted her shoulders into a shrug. "She had to go. We talked for a while then she decided to leave."

"And?"

"And nothing. Alcide, not everything in the world is secrets and mystery. We talked about girl stuff then she left."

Cowboy was stopped from replying as a pair of headlights crept up their driveway. Rissa rose to her feet as Cowboy turned to watch them approach. As they came to a stop, Rissa stepped up beside her brother.

The doors opened, and Cowboy smiled as several large men exited the vehicles and approached. "Digger! Good to see you, man."

"Cowboy. How have you been?" He thrust his hand out. Cowboy shook it.

"So this is your lady's protection detail?" Cowboy nodded toward the three men standing behind Digger. The team had decided to explain the increased security by saying Demma was coming to do some wedding planning. Nobody would question one of the hottest young starlets of Hollywood's need for extra protection, even in the middle of Wyoming.

"Yep. One of the joys of being engaged to Demma St. John. Three hundred pounds of luggage and an entourage follow us wherever we go."

"Where is she?"

"She's with my parents. They adore her. I'll have to invite you over some time to visit. She'd love to see you again."

Cowboy nodded. "Sounds good." He turned to Rissa. "You remember my sister?"

"Of course." He winked at her. "She was on the homecoming court my senior year. Up until I met my fiancée, I thought she was the most beautiful girl I had ever seen. Sorry, Ris, Demma de-throned you. But you do take runner-up."

Rissa laughed. "It's fine. I'll take number two against Demma St. John any time."

Digger turned and motioned toward the waiting security force. "This is Harley, Fin, and Ike. Sergi and Davis are with Demma. You'll meet them tomorrow. Thanks again for letting them stay in your bunkhouse. I wouldn't mind putting them up at the motel, but this is closer. I'm hoping we'll only need it for a week or so, but you know how plans go. Everyone has good intentions but not always a good follow through."

Cowboy read the underlying message. They knew it would be a few days before the FBI arrived, but until then Digger's team would help watch over things. Cowboy knew Digger didn't like Demma being here in the middle of this, but there was no other reason to have a team of security agents in town. As far as they knew, Hoxha hadn't put the McMillans in his sights so the risk should be minimal. Plus, her being in town could make for distraction opportunities if they needed them.

"They are welcome to stay as long as you want. I checked everything out earlier today after we talked. There are clean linens, and I left a few things in the fridge to get you by for a day or two. I figured you would stock up at the store tomorrow." Cowboy motioned toward the large six bedroom bunkhouse that once housed up to twelve ranch hands. Now, Jim, Cedric, and Pete were all that was left, and they each had homes and families in town.

"Hey, I've got some roast chicken chili and jalapeño flatbread in the kitchen," Rissa called out as they climbed the porch of the bunkhouse. "I'll bring it out in a few minutes."

"Sounds delicious," Fin butted in with a smile.

As he ushered the men and their duffle bags into the bunkhouse, Cowboy glanced over at Rissa. She stood on the porch with a huge grin on her face and a blush staining her cheeks, watching them enter. Suddenly, she turned and hurried into the house. Cowboy smirked. Perhaps his words to Drake earlier were a self-fulfilling prophecy. Maybe, with a little luck, his sister would lose two hundred pounds of ugly douche bag weasel farts by the time this thing was over. He rubbed his hands together as the thought made a little of the unease inside lift.