Sheridan stayed vigilant as they drove to his house. There was a tension in the cab of the vehicle that was hard to ignore. Cheyenne worried at her pretty pink fingernails and he thought they would be bloody by the time they reached their destination. Her eyes darted around, looking for her ex-husband, and he wanted to turn her to him and ease her fears.

Being on alert, though, was probably smart. He glanced at his cell phone, mounted on a fixture on the windshield. No little green light blinked, telling him he had a message to look at. There were people all over town looking for this yahoo, but somehow he’d escaped notice. Surely someone had seen the man?

Sheridan deliberately took a circuitous route to his house, looping around several times in an effort to confuse anybody following him. Cheyenne and the girls didn’t seem to mind, though. When they finally pulled into his driveway, she looked at him in surprise. “I forgot you’d moved out here,” she laughed.

‘Loveland’, as the letters on the fence used to proclaim, had been the subject of speculation for many years. It was a large property surrounded by a tall wrought-iron fence. The house, just barely visible through the stands of trees, used to be bright blue, but Sheridan had painted it something earthy brown, basically camouflaging it. The property had always had a mystique about it, because the previous owner had been so eccentric.

Roger Ferrer had been an artist, supposedly. Sheridan thought he’d merely been eccentric and lonely.

“Let’s leave the dog in the crate out here for a minute. My dog is running around somewhere. Let me grab him and put him in the kennel.”

She nodded and waited with the girls as he disappeared into the house. Within a few minutes he returned and waved them inside.

Cheyenne wasn’t sure what she expected when she walked into Sheridan’s house, but it wasn’t the spacious home she was seeing now. Wide open from the living room to the dining room to the kitchen, it was a beautiful expanse of hardwood floors and beautiful furniture. One wall of the dining room was glass, broken by two sets of French doors. It was a stunning home, decorated in earthy colors with black iron accents. It also seemed incredibly comfortable and comforting.

“My sister-in-law was an interior designer in Houston,” he told her as he hung his hat by the door. “As a gift to us when we moved up here, she completely renovated the house. Made my life easier. The guy that lived here before had terrible taste.”

“It’s beautiful,” she murmured, running her hand over the back of the overstuffed couch. “I’m sure your wife loved it.”

He gave her a sad smile. “She never got to see it, actually.”

Cheyenne’s heart could have broken for the big, solemn man then. No person should have to lose a partner like that.

Cancer was a terrible, terrible disease.

“Olivia?” he called.

There was no answer.

Giving her an apologetic look, Sheridan held a hand out for them to head down a hallway.

“I hope the girls don’t mind sharing.”

“They’ll be fine with it.”

Sheridan led her into a medium sized room with a set of twin beds in it. The beds were made with pretty pink quilts on top. “Oh, this will be perfect for them. They’ll love it.”

Sheridan gave her a smile. “Good! We set this up for my brother’s kids when they come to visit from Indiana. It has a shared bathroom with the guest room next door.”

He led her through a smallish bathroom to another room. This one had a queen-sized bed in it, with a lilac and sage green quilt and white furniture. “This can be your room while you’re here.”

Cheyenne felt a sense of calm come over her. What a beautiful space. “This is wonderful. I can’t tell you how relieved I am that we don’t have to stay in our house right now. I’m not going to lie, seeing those prints rattled me.”

He’d leaned against the bathroom doorjamb and crossed his arms over his heavy chest. Her eyes drifted over the thickly bunched muscles, and suddenly, she couldn’t look away. Sheridan was built like a man that could take care of a woman, no matter what she, or life, threw at him.

But she wasn’t looking for a man like that, she reminded herself.

Clenching her jaw she turned away, hefting her bag to the mattress.

“We can get an air mattress for the third girl,” he told her softly.

“I wouldn’t worry about it,” she told him honestly. “Two of them will end up in bed together anyway.”

And they would. Actually, all three might end up together, because when they weren’t fighting like cats and dogs, they were the best of friends. Savannah liked to read to her sisters at night.

“Well, I’ll let you settle in then. When you’re ready, come out and I’ll introduce you to BeoWulf. And I’ll see if I can find Olivia.”

With a tip of his imaginary hat he left her to unpack.

Cheyenne sank down to the mattress and looked out at the afternoon sunlight. When she’d woken up this morning she certainly hadn’t planned on ending up here, of all places. Sighing, she shook her head and turned for her bag. She’d get herself unpacked then check on the kids.

* * *

Sheridan paused at the kitchen island and listened to the chatter the girls made down the hallway. It was a little nostalgic. When they’d found this house, Nora had fallen in love. Yes, it had been too big for them at the time, but they’d planned to fill it somehow, someway, even if it meant adoption.

Instead they’d had one precious daughter, and they’d done their best to spoil the girl rotten. Olivia’d had everything she’d needed growing up, plus more.

Which made her current behavior understandable.

When Nora had died, Olivia had been lost, and he’d been just as lost in trying to connect with her. They’d both been dealing with an incredible amount of grief, but also relief. His wife, the mother of his child, was no longer in pain, and he would always be thankful that it hadn’t gone on any longer.

Seemed wrong to think like that…but it was the honest truth. He’d loved Nora too much to want her to suffer one more second than she’d had to endure.

He opened the door to the fridge, wondering what he could rustle up for dinner. He realized then that he should have gone to the store before the invasion. In desperation, he went out to the deep freeze in the garage and started digging. Frozen pizzas, it was.

Letting Beowulf out of his kennel, Sheridan put the German Shepherd on a leash. The dog looked at him like he was crazy, but it had to be done. He refused to let him run through the house like an idiot possibly knocking people down. Sheridan knew there would be a leery ‘what the heck is going on in my house?’ stage, then a longer acceptance period. Beowulf wasn’t a dog to attack unless on patrol or expressly commanded to do so, but he also wasn’t one of the friendliest dogs ever, either.

Juggling the pizza boxes and the dog leash, he let Beowulf pull him into the kitchen, then growled at him to settle down. The dog did, but he quivered with anxiety or excitement.

Cheyenne’s daughter Savannah, the one with glasses, stood in the dining room when he walked in and Beowulf immediately lunged for her. Fumbling the boxed pizzas, Sheridan grabbed at the leash, but the dog was gone. Sheridan dropped the pizzas and lunged after the dog, but he’d already tackled Savannah to the floor. Sheridan expected to hear screaming, but instead, what he heard were the little girl’s giggles as she tried to fight off the dog’s long-tongued kisses.

Sheridan rocked back on his boot heels in shock, heart thundering. Wulf never reacted to anyone this way anymore. He’d been Nora’s dog.

Savannah pushed her glasses up on her nose and wiped off some of the dog spit, but she was smiling as she ruffled the dog’s fur. “I was helping Dr. Gabby last month when you brought him in for shots. He was sad, so I sat with him and talked to him.”

Sheridan blinked, shocked, then he barked out a laugh. “Well, okay, then.”

Carolyn came out next and patted the dog negligently on the head as she passed. Then she spied the boxes on the floor. “Pizza! I’m starving!”

Sheridan leaned down to pick up the boxes and Cheyenne’s oldest daughter helped him. “I can do this if you want to introduce your dog to Daisy. Grace went out to be with her.”

Sheridan glanced up in alarm. He hadn’t even seen her slip outside! Good thing the alarm wasn’t on right this second.

Glancing at Savannah, he waved a hand toward the door. “Maybe if you’re there the intro will go smoother.”

Nodding her head she took Beowulf’s leash in hand and walked him toward the front of the house. Sheridan glowered. That dog was well trained and did what he was supposed to do when, but since Nora had died he’d been a little detached. This was the most excited he’d seen the dog be in years.

Even when they met the exuberant Daisy, the normally standoffish German Shepherd just lifted his head and let her yip, then tentatively sniffed at her. It was more interest than Sheridan had seen him express for another dog in ages.

It sent a ripple of unease through him. The dog had moped after Nora had died and he never even considered letting the animal go to another home. Olivia loved him and he tolerated Sheridan, so he thought that was enough.

Guilt started to consume him though as he looked at the big guard dog romp in play at the smaller Australian Cattle dog. It was beyond obvious they were going to get along.

He heard the front door open and he looked up to see Cheyenne stepping out onto the porch, arms crossed. For a moment, the world slipped into a time warp and he imagined a shorter, curvier woman with dark hair stepping onto the porch. No, that had been many, many years ago.

His heart ached as he looked at Cheyenne. If he wasn’t careful, things were going to get very dangerous. For him.

“Are they getting along?” she asked, bright auburn hair blowing in the breeze as she joined them in the yard.

He nodded. “Surprisingly well. I think we can let them off the leashes. Wulf looks like he wants to play.”

The girls didn’t need any further encouragement. They let the dogs loose and watched them race around the yard. Wulf ran faster than Sheridan had seen him do in a long time.

In no time, the girls were racing after the dogs. Wulf found one of his old tennis balls that Sheridan hadn’t yet mowed over and started tossing it into the air, waiting for them to grab it. Grace dove for the ball and ended up tripping on her own feet and sprawling in the grass. Cheyenne giggled beside him and he looked over at her.

Damn, she was beautiful. No, that was too weak of a word. Stunning. Just absolutely stunning. Her blue eyes were deep and so clear he could see the striations of darker blue through the iris. Her skin was flawless, without any kind of blemish and he wondered how she stayed so fair in the Texas sun. Most redheads he knew had freckles, but Cheyenne and the girls did not. Grace had a few light freckles, he’d noticed, but they balanced out the mischief in her eyes. Those freckles needed to be there because they suited her.

Cheyenne glanced up at him, her gaze connecting to his own for a timeless moment, and awareness crept into her expression. Her skin flushed and she glanced away.

Sheridan wondered what it would take for her to return his interest.

Clearing his throat, he straightened. “Maybe this is a good time to show you the property, and the security I have in place.”

“I had forgotten you’d bought this. Didn’t Crazy Roger used to own this?”

He nodded. “Yes, but he wasn’t so crazy. Just eccentric. And lonely. His kids had moved away years ago and it was just him and his dogs for years. So he had plenty of time to tinker and play. There are still a few metal sculptures around.”

They circled the house. There was a huge pool in the back yard, decorated by bright metallic jumping fish sculptures.

“Those are set into the concrete, so there’s no moving them without a lot of effort.”

She laughed lightly. “I kind of like them.”

“Yeah,” he sighed. “They’ve grown on me, too.”

“Can we go swimming, Mama?” Grace cried.

“No, definitely not. Maybe this weekend.”

They walked beyond the pool. “The yard, two acres, is completely fenced with eight-foot wrought iron. There are cameras positioned at several locations around the property and I receive notifications on my phone when the motion detectors go off.”

She laughed again. “You sound like my brother Chad, going on about the security he’s put in for Mercy and Lora.”

“Well, a lot of this was already here, but I updated a few things, thanks to the issue your brother had. It reminded me that Olivia is the most precious thing in my world, and I have to protect her.”

She glanced at him out of the corners of her eyes, nodding once. “That’s a perfect reason to do it. I would if I could.”

Her eyes turned luminous and he didn’t want her to cry. “I have a feeling your brother would do it all for you if he knew you needed help.”

“You’re probably right,” she whispered, “but he has so much going on right now.”

Sheridan didn’t think that would keep Chad from helping her, but he kept his thoughts to himself. If she didn’t want to call her brother, he would let that ride for now.

“If you give me your smartphone I can set it up so you can log into the system and see what’s going on at the house as well.”

Her expression lightened. “Yes, please! I mean, the girls are with me almost twenty-four seven, but it will still give me peace of mind.”

“I can understand that. And in spite of the way he was acting today, Wulf is an excellent guard dog. He stays out at night.”

She watched the dogs and kids playing, smiling occasionally, until Beowulf sprawled on the ground, panting heavily.

“This is more exercise than he’s had in a while,” Sheridan explained.

Grace and Daisy ran around more, but Savannah sat at Wulf’s head and stroked his ears. The level of connection they’d established already astounded him.

Cheyenne left the porch to cross to the dog and girl. Wulf lifted his head to sniff at her and wagged his tail, licking at her fingers. With the ease of a young girl Cheyenne sat crosslegged on the ground beside Savannah and stroked the dog as well.

Beowulf looked to be in heaven. His eyes were mere slits and Sheridan had a feeling he would be asleep in no time.

“Pizza’s about ready,” Carolyn called, sticking her head out the door.

They trooped inside and Sheridan secured the door behind everyone. Daisy came up to him, wiggling her butt. He scratched her on the head and patted her side, then she started wandering around, checking out the house.

Carolyn had done wonders with the boxed pizza, incredibly, and she’d found the salad container. Grace turned her nose up at the green stuff beside her plate, but didn’t say anything too bad. They all settled around the table to eat.

Olivia crashed through the front door like the whirlwind she was, and he looked up in time to see a flash of hurt in her eyes. In her place, he guessed he’d feel the same, seeing a big group of people sharing a meal in his own home.

“Hey, honey. You remember Cheyenne and her girls, right? Grace, Savannah and Carolyn.”

“Yes, Dad, I remember,” Olivia replied, her voice flat.

“We saved you some pizza,” he told her.

Olivia looked up and almost seemed interested, then her gaze fell to Savannah’s hand on Wulf’s head, sitting right beside her. The younger girl was scratching the dog’s ears, and he was almost swaying, his eyes closed in pleasure. Sheridan noted that the dog did not get up to greet her.

With a closed-down expression on her pretty face, Olivia turned and headed for the stairs down to the basement. She didn’t slam the door as she disappeared, but it was a near thing.

Two years ago he’d come home from a difficult shift to find that she’d left her normal bedroom on this floor, and moved all her things downstairs. She had said that she didn’t want to bother him with her music, but that excuse didn’t hold water. She’d had headphones attached to her ears most of her teenaged life. Only very rarely did he ever hear her music.

But he’d let her stay down there. If she was more comfortable than that was the main thing. Even though it left him rambling around in the upper house, more lonely than ever.

He looked at Cheyenne. She gave him a small smile. “I can tell having teenagers is going to be fun.”

He laughed and shook his head. “Okay. Keep telling yourself that.”

He ate his pizza and tried not to be put out that Olivia hadn’t joined them.

* * *

Cheyenne felt terrible. It was obvious that Olivia had felt misplaced in her own home, and that was the last thing Cheyenne wanted.

After they ate, Sheridan excused himself to go make a phone call in his office. Cheyenne took the time to put a few slices of pizza on a plate and walk down the stairs. She hadn’t been down here before, but the layout was pretty open, like the upstairs. There was a bathroom on the right and an entertainment area on the left. An expansive projection screen covered most of the pale wall, with several recliners arranged in front of it. There was a little kitchenette snugged into one corner, obviously for snacks. On the back wall was another doorway, closed tight.

Cheyenne headed that way.

She could hear murmuring behind the door, like Olivia was on the phone. She hated to interrupt her, but the pizza was already cooling.

Cheyenne knocked firmly.

“Go away, Dad. I’m working.”

“It’s not your dad.”

Cheyenne heard rustling beyond the panel before it opened a crack. Olivia’s thick walnut colored hair, the exact shade as her father’s, hung down in a long, sleek curtain. Her hazel eyes were narrowed. “Yes?”

Cheyenne held the plate of food out temptingly. “Brought you some dinner.”

Olivia stared at her for a long moment before widening the door crack a little more and reaching for the plate. Beyond her shoulder Cheyenne could see typical girl bedroom clutter, clothes scattered everywhere, a cell phone waiting for her to return, screen lit. Obviously she’d been talking to someone.

“I didn’t bring you anything to drink, sorry.”

“I’ve got something,” the girl said quietly, looking at the pizza.

“I want to apologize.”

Her eyes flicked up in surprise. “Why?”

“Well, we’ve kind of invaded your home. I know your dad invited us, but it’s still probably hard to see us up there like that, eating your food, around your table, petting your dog.”

The girl’s mouth curled. “Whatever.”

Cheyenne didn’t know where to proceed.

“We won’t be here any longer than we have to, okay?”

Olivia shrugged and backed into the room, closing the door in Cheyenne’s face.

With a sigh, Cheyenne turned away, vowing that she would teach her girls to react to situations better.

* * *

Olivia waited at the door until she heard the woman leave, then slipped out to the main room. There was a small fridge in the kitchenette. She retrieved a bottle of water and returned to her bedroom. She picked up the phone and pressed it to her ear as she cracked open the bottle. “I’m back.”

“Who was that?” Hannah asked.

Olivia sighed. How to explain it?

“It’s Ms. Lowell from school.”

“Wait,” Hannah interrupted. “In your house? At your door? Is your dad dating her?”

“No,” Olivia snapped, horrified. “Apparently her ex-husband was in prison and now he’s out but he might be after her so Dad moved her and her three daughters in here so they’d be safe.”

“Oh, okay. Freaked me out for a minute there. I mean, if they’re just there for a little while it won’t be bad, right?”

“Yeah, I guess,” Olivia murmured, taking a swig of water. “It was just weird, though, because I walked in and they were all eating pizza around my mom’s table like they were a family.”

“No, way,” Hannah hissed.

Olivia could imagine the expression on Hannah’s face. Her big gray eyes would be super open and she would be shaking her head.

“That doesn’t seem right,” she finished.

Olivia sighed. No, it didn’t. She was glad she wasn’t the only one to think it was odd.

She looked at the pizza. Maybe she wouldn’t eat it. She’d just leave it on the plate on the counter upstairs.

Her tummy rumbled. No, that was stupid, she decided. Good pizza shouldn’t go to waste.

“Sounds like the set-up for Parent Trap. Remember that movie? Lindsay Lohan was the redhead. That was back before all her llama-drama. But you’ve got four of them to deal with,” Hannah snickered. “Red-heads, I mean, not llamas.”

Olivia tried to swallow the huge bite of pizza in her mouth. “Is that the one where the kids tried to get the parents together? My dad’s too smart for that.”

“Well, you never know. Maybe their mom and your dad can get together and you can all live together happily ever after.”

“Yeah, right. Like that’ll happen.”

After Olivia hung up from Hannah, thoughts of what she’d said started to worry her. Dad had had the hots for Ms. Lowell for a while, now, so the two of them hooking up wasn’t beyond the realm of possibility.

Olivia hadn’t had Ms. Lowell as a teacher, but the kids in school had loved her, and it was obvious her daughters loved her. They hung on her and touched her a lot.

It made Olivia miss her mom. The three of them had been great together. They’d travelled as much as they could and done cool things, and they’d talked about everything.

Her dad used to have this amazing laugh. Big and deep, and hearing it made you smile. It had been a while since she’d heard it.

She’d have to play it by ear. This wasn’t a happy ever after scenario, like Hannah hoped, but if it made her dad happy for a while she’d be okay with it too.