At the tail end of what could only be described as the road trip from hell, I mentally crossed my fingers as I enjoyed the momentary peace in our crappy minivan.

Seriously, what had I been thinking? As a single parent, traveling with three kids was a crappy idea on the best day, but driving over eight hundred miles in the middle of June with next to no A/C? That was reason number thirty-seven why I must have been out of my damn mind.

It had been two long days, and there were fewer than a hundred miles left, but right now it felt like a thousand. My shoulders were knotted, my back tight, and my ass about ten degrees past numb.

Yeah, I would have given my left nut for a hot shower and full body massage. Happy ending optional. Honestly, an hour without the kids and that was all the happy I’d need.

“Daddy!” Kiki was naturally the first to interrupt the quiet with her shrill shriek of impatience. “Chris won't give the red! Make him give it to me, Daddy! Tell him it’s mine!”

I rolled my eyes and looked at my two youngest kids through the rearview mirror. They were sitting in the third row seat with a small, plastic bin of art supplies on the bench between them.

“Kiki-bug, you can't tell me that in that entire bucket of crayons you've got back there, that you really only have the one red? You need to share, baby girl. Now, wait your turn or use another color for now.”

“No, Daddy! I can’t! That’s the only apple color,” she whined in that particular tone that I would swear that three-year old girls have perfected to a science.

“Says you, Kiki!” Matty interrupted with frustration. “Chris has the right to use whatever color he wants! And they aren't only your crayons, anyway! You know that they're both of your crayons. Tell her, Dad! Tell her that they belong to both of them!”

Pinching the bridge of my nose with one hand, I took a deep breath and counted to ten before I got involved again. If we were at home, I'd make them work it out for themselves. But right now, I needed to establish peace in this vehicle.

If patient Matty was losing his cool, things were going to get ugly. At least Chris was blissfully unaware of Kiki’s ire. He sat there coloring quietly, his head moving back and forth in a figure eight pattern as he focused on what he was doing.

“Matty, be patient, son. You're the oldest, it's up to you to set a good example for the little ones, remember?”

He nodded reluctantly. I could tell by the stormy look in his eyes that his sense of justice was offended, but he wouldn't push me.

“Now, Kiki,” I said as patiently as I could, “there are plenty of other colors that you can use for apples. There are green apples, yellow apples, why, I've even seen pink apples! Heck, use your imagination and color them purple if you want. But, I need you to be nice back there, you hear me?”

Her lower lip stuck out as she fixed a deathly glare at her oblivious brother, but she reluctantly let it go for the moment.

“So, what are you guys coloring back there with this magical red crayon anyway?” I asked her, trying to change the mood.

“I'm drawing a picture of the farm. You said Grampa Harry has apple trees, Daddy! That's why I'm making apples.”

“Chris is making a farm scene, too.” Matty said proudly. “He needs the red for his barn. Everyone knows that barns are red.”

Kiki nodded sagely, in complete agreement with her brother. And just like that, peace was restored. For the moment anyway.

Fifteen or twenty miles later, I heard Chris stirring behind me. He was carefully putting things away and smiling as he signed to Matty and Kiki about his finished picture and asked if there were any juice boxes left.

“Matty,” I said, not willing to pull over if I didn't have to at this point. “We're almost to MacIntosh Meadows. Can you give Chris and Kiki both a juice box? I put fresh ones in the cooler when we stopped that last time.”

Matty stretched over the seat separating them to high-five Kiki as they cheered when I told them that we were almost there. They were magically friends again as they both started signing the news to Chris.

I smiled fondly at their excitement and watched as Matty reached down to the floor between the middle seats where the old Igloo cooler that I'd owned since college was sitting.

Ice sloshed around as he slammed the lid down again after retrieving the drinks. He turned and reached over the seat behind him, where Kiki's car-seat was belted in place, and dangled the box in front of her face until she grabbed it with a giggle.

“How much longer, Dad? Should we start cleaning up our things and putting our shoes on?” my ever-responsible son asked me a few minutes later.

“Well, we have a little ways left to go, probably a half hour or so? Go ahead and get your shoes on if you want, then I think you’ll still have time to play a game or two.”

“Okay, Dad,” Matty said with a firm nod. “I'll make sure we're all ready and everything is put away when we get there.”

I smiled as I glanced back in the mirror a few minutes later to see him passing a bag of gummy fruit treats to Kiki. He's such a good boy, I mused. Matty was always trying to be a good brother to his siblings. I’ve always been so proud of my kids. All three of them were well-behaved as a rule, road trips in hot vans notwithstanding.

It had been a steep learning curve, but thanks to a husband that was never around to pitch in, I could have this whole job of parenthood down by the time they all graduated high school. Okay, maybe not by then, but definitely by the time they finished college. Or so I hoped, anyway.

The rest of the drive was anticlimactic after the long trip we'd shared, and I was relieved when I turned off the highway onto the main drag of my hometown: MacIntosh Meadows.

My grandfather had raised me on his little farm outside of town after my parents and grandmother had been killed in a car accident when I was in third grade.

It was just me and Grampa Harry for the rest of my time at home. I went off to college for awhile, but I ended up having to marry my very first boyfriend when I’d gotten pregnant after sophomore year.

We were always the youngest parents in the play groups, but we were happy enough, I supposed. It wasn't the passionate love of the movies, but I had to wonder if anyone ever really had that anyway.

It wasn’t until after he’d graduated and gone to work for his father, the senator, that things took a turn for us. That was when he’d started the drinking and partying. The not coming home for days on end, and finally turning up smelling like other omegas.

I sighed. That was all water under the bridge now that he was gone. I wouldn’t waste any more time resenting a dead man, especially one who’d given me the best gift of all—the three children sitting behind me.

I heard the kids pointing out the funny little shops as we drove through the town that time forgot. I wondered if the old General Store was still there, and smiled when I saw it come up on my left.

The Barber Shop and The Sundae Bar, where we always went for ice cream on Saturday afternoons, were both still there and open for business, I noted as I passed them by.

In the same plaza where they were located, I saw a few new shops, including one with a big sign that proclaimed Just Dance. Right after the post office came up on my left, I saw the turn-off that would take us out of town and to where we were headed.

I was excited to see Gramps again. It had been almost nine years, now that I thought about it. Tristan and I had made one ill-fated trip back to my hometown when we were first dating, but after we’d gotten married, there just hadn’t been time… or money… or time and money, actually.

At least, that’s what Tristan had always said. Every time I’d made plans to visit, something had come up. A few times it was because of a sick kid, but more often than not, it was Tristan.

To be honest, he’d scorned my rural upbringing and hadn’t really wanted to step foot back on the farm after our first visit. Gramps hadn’t taken to Tristan all that well either, to be fair. They were like oil and water, which I suppose should’ve told me something.

But when my monster-in-law had made her decree that I was to give her my babies? Nope. Hell, no. I’d made the only choice I’d had available to me and called Gramps.

After I’d told him my news, he’d immediately told me to pack up the kids and kiss that damn city good-bye. It was time for me to bring my ass home, he’d said. Past time, at that.

I’m sure my in-laws would be less than thrilled that I’d taken their grandchildren so far away. I was done toeing their line and now I’d drawn my own line in the proverbial sand. I knew when I left home that it would only be a matter of time before they reacted. I couldn’t help but worry about that... but hopefully they’d be powerless to hurt me now that I’d be back home among friends.

A few miles outside of town, I began slowing down as I looked for the old dirt road that would lead back to the farm from the highway here. I saw it coming up on the left, and slowed down to a snail's pace as I carefully made the turn.

The minivan lurched along the old dirt road, and I worried about my chassis as we bounced up and down. The gnarled, old strip of dirt that led back to our farm had never been paved.

I couldn’t help but wonder why Gramps hadn’t hired someone to run a grader along this road; he’d never let it get this bad before. Hopefully we could make that happen before winter set in or we'd be ass-deep in mud puddles.

Based on the condition of the road, I was suddenly nervous to see what shape the farm itself was in. I knew that one of my oldest friends, Dean MacIntosh, had been living here and working with Gramps.

Gramps had told me that much on the phone. Dean had been tending the farm officially, and knowing him, probably keeping an eye on Gramps unofficially. I'm sure he'd done what he could to keep the place going, but I also knew that there was only so much that one guy could do.

That was okay. I was here now, and I’d pitch in where I could. Hopefully between us, we’d be a help to Gramps. And make the farm pretty again, that would be nice.

I hadn't actually seen Dean in years, not since I’d married. Tristan hadn’t thought it appropriate for me to keep in touch with my old bestie, who also happened to be an alpha. It would be good to catch up with him, simply the thought of it had me smiling.

Pulling past the long, white, wooden gate that was swung open for us, I drove up and parked in front of the old farmhouse that had been my family's home for several generations now.

The two-story home was painted white, but graying with age. The paint on the forest green shutters and trim was cracked and peeled in places, showing the aged wood underneath.

The porch that wrapped around the front and left side of the house looked new though. It was a fresh unpainted wood that I imagined still smelled sharp from the lumberyard.

I saw the old brown barn and chicken coop off to the right, with the cows grazing in the pasture beside them. A few goats wandered around, munching on weeds, and I could imagine the hogs squealing in their pen behind the other structures.

Sorry, kids... I thought to myself. But that barn wasn't the pretty red color their storybooks had told them to expect. Nope, it was a weathered, natural wooden structure that had never seen a drop of paint. Well, except for the splatters that were probably still decorating the backside from when Dean and I had paintball wars in high school, I remembered with a grin.

After I parked, I stepped out and took a deep whiff of the pure country air. Taking a moment to stretch, I bent over to touch my toes a few times before walking around to release the beasts from inside the van.

I slid open the door, and nearly fell on my ass as the two older kids flew past me. I shook my head and grinned happily to see the boys acting like kids, even as I bent over into the van and quickly undid the five point harness that restrained Kiki.

After making sure her shoes were attached to her feet, I lifted her out and turned around to set her down right as I heard the once familiar creak and slam of the old screen door.

I looked up and nearly dropped poor Kiki as the stunningly familiar face of my old friend Dean walked down the front steps with a wide, welcoming grin on his beautiful face. Holy hell, I’d forgotten how my heart sped up when this man came around.

Behind him, I saw Gramps sitting on the old wooden porch swing, with a young girl seated beside him. Gramps looked so much older than I’d expected, which had my head spinning even faster.

I quickly set my girl down to explore and closed the van door as all these thoughts flew through my mind in rapid succession. But I still couldn’t stop from wondering why I still found Dean so hot, especially when my own husband had just died.

What kind of a jerk was I? I mean, I knew our marriage had long been over, but shit. It hadn’t even been a week since he’d died. I was the worst human ever born.

But Tristan aside, why the hell was I even still thinking of my childhood friend as hot? Trying not to stare, I took in his muscular physique, probably honed by working the farm.

All through high school, I’d nursed a secret crush on him, but he’d never seen me like that. Dean was one-hundred percent into female omegas, more’s the pity.

His coppery brown hair, threaded with sun-kissed blond streaks, was just far enough past needing a trim that it was curling around his ears, with little cowlicks waving in the breeze on the top of his crown.

Without even looking too closely, I remembered his warm green eyes that reflected his every emotion. I was happy to see how well he'd aged. But again, why did I care? I mean, the guy had never been interested in male omegas. I’d need to keep that in mind.

“Daddy!” Kiki’s excited, high-pitched voice startled me from my reverie. “Look! That dog has horns!”

“That’s not a dog, weirdo! That’s a goat,” Matty laughed from across the yard. “Come on, Kiki! Chris and I are going to look at the cows behind the fence.”

Kiki ran off to join the boys while I took a second to gather my wits by closing the van’s door before turning to greet my oldest friend. And maybe, just maybe, there'd be an ice-cold glass of lemonade waiting up on that porch for me.