Greer stared at the chicken coop, sickened by what he saw. The gory scene could have been taken out of a horror movie. Greer’s stomach could take a lot, but the sickening sight had him biting back the bile that rose in his throat.

Not one chicken had been spared by the violent rage of whoever had killed the defenseless animals.

“The ones he caught were slammed against the coop. The ones he couldn’t, he kicked them to death.”

Tate raised up from studying the footprints that went through the now useless gate that had been torn off its hinges. “How did they get past the camera at the end of the driveway? We should have been alerted as soon as their car drove past.”

“They didn’t drive. Someone came in from the woods at the back of the house. I checked my traps. Every one of them have been sprung.”

“Son of a fucking bitch.”

Greer echoed Tate’s curse, adding more of his own as he went inside the house to get trash bags. Grabbing the whole box, he was coming out the door when Dustin’s car pulled up. His younger brother paled when he saw the sight that greeted him when he got out of the car.

“What in the fuck happened!”

Greer jumped off the side of the porch, not bothering to take the steps. “Apparently, some fucker decided to take their hatred out on our chickens instead of us.”

Dustin looked in dismay at the sickening message that had been left behind. “This is going to break Holly’s heart. She loves those chickens.”

Greer tore off three trash bags, handing one to each of his brothers. “She ain’t going to know. Dustin, go into the barn and get us some gloves.”

Tate opened the trash bag, waiting for Dustin to come back. “You really don’t think you’re going to fool her with other chickens, do you?”

“I’m going to try. She counts them. As long as she has eighteen, how will she know? It’s not like she’ll be able to tell one chicken from another.”

“Thank fuck I decided to take Logan out to the diner.” Dustin came back, handing the gloves out. “Did they get your dog, too?”

“I wish. The fool thing is hiding under the porch. He’s too afraid to come out. He knows I’ll kill his mangy ass.”

Tate finished tearing off the chicken gate, leaning it to the side as they started cleaning the chickens away.

“You can’t kill Hunter. I think even Holly would notice if you switched out dogs.”

Greer was ready to take his chances. The coon dog was useless.

The brothers were used to working side by side. They removed the chicken carcasses, throwing them in the back of his old truck. It was getting dark, so he would have to wait until morning to whitewash the hen house, but the spotlight that was rigged to flood the yard allowed them to mend the fence and fix the gate.

When that was finished, they went inside the house, where Tate had called Sutton to come over once the chickens had been cleared away. She had made quick work of cleaning the house that had been in shambles.

“I made a pile that couldn’t be fixed and needed to be thrown away. Tate, can you help me turn the couch and chair over?”

Greer moved Sutton out of the way. “Let us wash our hands. We’ll do it.”

They righted the couch as Dustin bagged up the plates and picture frames that been destroyed.

“I’ll take the quilts to my house and try to fix them,” Sutton offered.

“I’d appreciate it. Ma worked on those quilts every winter.” Greer stared at the quilts, knowing that it would be nearly impossible for Sutton to repair them. His mother had made four of them for each of her children and one for herself.

Rachel had taken hers when she had married Cash, and Tate had taken his out of the cedar chest when he had married Sutton. His, Dustin’s, and their mother’s had been taken from the chest and ripped to shreds.

“At least they didn’t succeed in burning the house down.” Dustin went to the sink to remove his gloves and wash his hands in the sink. “That gas can outside the back door would have been enough to take the house and the barn.”

“They didn’t go near the barn.” Greer took his hat off in a fit of rage, slinging it at the wall that paint had been slung onto. All the work he had been doing on the house had been destroyed.

“I’m sorry, Greer. I know how hard you’ve been working on the house.”

He shrugged away from Sutton’s compassionate hand on his arm. “I’ll go to the store in the morning and buy some more paint. I’ll have to order another sink and toilet. I was going to put them in this weekend when Logan was with Holly.”

“What did Knox say when Tate called him?” Dustin asked.

“He just took pictures and left. Didn’t say much at all.” Tate sat down on the couch they had righted. “If my dog hadn’t kept barking, we wouldn’t have known anyone was here until the fire detectors went off. They trashed the video camera in Greer’s room, so we couldn’t have a way of showing him who could have done it.”

“I don’t need a camera to know who did it.” Greer sat down on the chair, burying his face in his hands before looking up at the stares of his family. “Diane had to have done it.”

Dustin shook his head. “She couldn’t have. Whoever killed those chickens knew how to …” His brother stopped talking, seeing the certainty in Greer’s eyes.

“Yeah, I’m certain she did it. What I want to know is who helped her. She’s seeing Luke, but the Hayes live on the other side of the mountain, so they could have come in the back way to our property.”

Tate scooted over, so Sutton could sit down next to him. “We can’t accuse the Hayes without proof.”

“When I get my proof, we can settle with them, but I’ll be dealing with Diane myself.”

“Why do you think she was behind it?” Sutton’s eyes went from her husband to his.

Greer remained silent. He knew his brothers were going to give him hell at his answer.

“Greer, what did you do?”

Jerking to his feet, he paced around the room, coming to a stop in front of the couch where Tate was sitting and Dustin was standing behind him.

“I told Diane that if she could stay faithful to me for a few months, I’d marry her. When I took Holly to the jewelry store the other day to buy her ring, Dalton must have told her that I was going to marry Holly.”

“Why would Dalton tell Diane?” Dustin looked at him, not getting the message he was trying to tell them.

“Diane’s been messing around with Dalton,” Tate answered for Greer.

“Yeah, I caught them in bed together. I told her I was done with her then. I guess she believed me when Dalton told her I was buying a ring for Holly.”

“I’ve been telling you she was trouble for years.” Tate’s somberness hurt him more than any words.

“She was wearing a daisy shirt.”

“She was in the fucking sixth grade. You’ve been chasing that sign since you first saw it. Dustin and I both told you she wasn’t the one when I caught her making out with Asher during one of your football games.”

“Why does it matter what Diane was wearing?” Sutton placed a hand on Tate’s leg.

Tate raised a brow, leaving the choice to him whether or not to answer her question.

Going to the window, he stared out at the front yard, remembering the vision as if it had happened just yesterday. “Tate ever tell you that, when our pa thought we deserved an ass whipping, he would make us go wait out in the barn?”

“Yes.” From the softness of her voice, he was sure Tate had told her more than he had expected.

“One day, he got drunk when Ma was in town cleaning a house …”

“He wasn’t drunk. He was obliterated,” Tate broke in.

“He was piss-ass drunk,” Greer agreed. “Ma had kept me and Tate home from school that day because we were sick with the flu. Pa dragged us out of bed as soon as Ma left, telling us if we were going to stay home, we were going to work. He had made a batch of moonshine and wanted us to ride our bikes to old man Carter’s house. It was freezing outside, but our pa didn’t care. Filling our baskets, he told us we better not break any of them or we’d get an ass whipping. I almost made it before I wrecked. I still see those jars shaking right before I rode over a patch of ice.”

“I do, too.” Tate’s rough voice was filled with his own memories of that long ago winter morning.

“When we got home, Pa was waiting at the barn. Old man Carter had called him and told him that he was only paying for ten jars.” He had ridden the long road home, knowing what was waiting for him. “Tate tried to take the blame so only one of us would have to take the whipping, but I wasn’t going to let him take the blame for something I did.

“He gave me the worst beating of my life, and that’s saying a lot. Then he let Tate have it for lying. When he got tired, he went into house, locking us inside the barn. We were cold, sick, and were hurting so bad we couldn’t talk. Tate either was unconscious or had fallen asleep, but I was wide awake. I crawled over to him, trying to wake him up but couldn’t. I gave up and sat next to him, curled into a ball, trying to stay warm. I laid my head down on my knees to keep from vomiting.

“I kept thinking I’d be dead before Pa came back for us. My spirits kept whispering that one day, we wouldn’t be hungry anymore, that I wouldn’t have to be afraid of our pa, and that one day, someone would love me enough to make the hurt go away. When I raised my head, I saw a daisy and knew my spirits were gifting me with a sign. When I tried to wake Tate up, it disappeared. I knew then that daisy was meant only for me. I’ve been searching for it ever since. I thought it was Diane. I was wrong.”

Greer turned from the window, leaving his memories behind. “Diane got Luke or the Hayes to break in here, and she trashed the house as they killed the chickens. When they heard Tate’s dog getting closer, they hightailed it out of here before they could burn the house.”

“If they planned on burning the house, why tear everything up?” Sutton asked in dismay.

Greer smiled in self-mockery. “That’s where they screwed themselves.” He went to the kitchen table, where Sutton had placed the pictures from the broken frames, then went back into the living room, tossing them onto the coffee table. “Notice anything?”

Sutton leaned over, staring down at the pictures then the ones that had remained untouched. “She didn’t break the ones without Holly in them. That bitch!”

“That, she is.” Greer heard loud motors coming from outside. Striding toward the door, he looked outside to see his yard filled with bikers.

“What do you want?” Greer asked the president of The Last Riders, seeing Knox getting off the motorcycle he rode when he was off duty. Cash and Razer lifted a big tool box out the bed of his truck. Even the pastor and his wife got out of their car, going to the trunk to grab a basket of food.

“Knox said someone broke into your house, had a party, and left a mess. I had some paint and bathroom fixtures I didn’t use on my house, so I wanted to see if you could use them.”

Train and Rider lifted down a brand-new sink and toilet to Drake.

“How much am I going to owe you for your generosity?” he asked skeptically.

“Nothing. I’ll be glad to get them out of the garage. Train keeps complaining they’re taking up space when he’s working on the bikes.”

“Move, Greer. Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth.” Tate had him moving to the side as the men came in, carrying the toilet and sink.

Willa went to the dining room table to set the food out. “Evie and I thought we would bring something for the men to snack on while they paint. She wanted to come, but she didn’t want to be around the fumes of the paint with her being pregnant.” The pastor’s wife gave Dustin a brief hug before asking where the coffee pot was.

“I don’t need your help …”

Viper took one of the paint cans that Drake had handed him, setting it down on the tarp that Cash was spreading out.

“Funny thing about help, you never know where it’s going to come from.” Using a pocket knife, he opened the paint then used a painting stick to stir it.

“You have that paint left over, too? It’s funny as hell how it matches my walls.”

Viper kept stirring. “Coincidences happen.”

“How much did you have to pay to open the hardware store? I’ll be paying you back, and for the other things you brought.”

Viper stood up. “I won’t touch a dime of your money. You may not take my thanks for saving Aisha’s life, but I’m not giving you the choice of not taking my help.”

“I didn’t do a thing—”

“Where are the paint brushes, Cash?” Viper turned, giving him his back.

Greer knew when he was dealing with someone as stubborn as he was.

“Got another one?”

Viper held out the assortment Cash had given him.

“This doesn’t mean we are best bud’s or anything, right?”

“No, Greer. Friendship isn’t what I think when I think of you.”

He grinned, taking the roller and leaving Viper with the small paintbrush. “Asshole come to mind?”

“I was thinking fuckwad, but asshole will do.”