Trig was happy to exit the Jeep and stretch his leg. He often found himself restless when sitting. Anxious when he was a passenger in a car. Downright terrified when the driver drove seventeen miles an hour.

He had to get it out of his head that he wasn’t in the desert and that IEDs weren’t planted around every turn, but fear was a beast he hadn’t been able to tame. He moved through life fast so nothing could catch him.

The front door opened and a miniature Bowie walked onto the porch. “You must be Cannon,” Trig said.

He looked from Trig to Charlie. “Bowie said you had a dog, not a woman.” He stared at Charlie, who was still in the SUV. “If he was calling her a dog, I’d say you owe him an ass-kicking.”

He glanced at the woman in the front seat. She was definitely not a dog, and while she wasn’t Beach Barbie pretty, she was beautiful in a wholesome girl-next-door way. “We’re not together.”

Charlie killed the engine and stepped out of the Jeep.

“You drove together, but you’re not together?” Cannon asked as he took a few steps forward. “Charlie? Is that you?”

“Cannon Bishop, you’ve changed.” She raced to him and threw her arms around his waist for a big hug.

“Holy hell, girl.” He stood back and took her in. “You grew up.”

A tiny little redhead came to stand next to Cannon. She looked at the woman standing in front of him. “You have to be Charlie. You favor your father for sure.”

Charlie’s hands rose to her face. “You think so?”

“Yep, same kind eyes but a lot less wrinkles.” She offered Charlie her hand. “I’m Sage Nichols. I’m the new owner of B’s Bed and Breakfast, and I also work at your father’s clinic.” She elbowed Cannon in the side. “You already know this guy.” She looked past them to Trig. “Did you bring a roommate?”

Charlie looked at him and blushed. “No, we’re not together.” She rolled her pretty blue eyes. “I mean, we drove the last leg of the trip together because this guy”—she pointed to him—“thought he could make it through the pass in a Mustang—convertible no less.”

“That makes you Trig,” Cannon said. “Where’s your dog?”

Trig opened the back door and helped Clovis to the ground. He went to the nearest tree and lifted his leg.

“Sorry about that,” Trig said.

Out of the front door came a big ball of fur. Trig watched the dog with three legs race to Clovis. The tri-pod animal fascinated him. The two dogs circled each other. It was as if all they needed was a sniff to know they belonged together. Too bad humans weren’t so easy.

“That’s Otis.”

“How’d he lose his leg?” Charlie asked.

Sage shook her head. “I was told he got hit by a car, but I don’t really know. I adopted him.”

“That was a big commitment to take on his long-term medical costs.”

Sage shrugged. “He doesn’t seem to mind that he’s missing a leg. We don’t care either.”

Right then, Trig knew he was going to enjoy this holiday. Surely the three-legged dog was a sign.

“Let me help you with your things.” Cannon turned to Trig. “I know Bowie is dying to see you.”

Trig went to get Clovis, who gave him a look that said leave-me-be as he trotted behind Otis.

Sage helped Charlie with her bag while Cannon threw Trig’s duffel over his shoulder and walked inside the house. Trig and Charlie were led to the end of a hallway where they were given side-by-side rooms.

“Thanks for the ride,” Trig said before he walked inside his space.

“It was nice to not have to make the trip alone. I liked your company.”

“You did?”

“Yes, I did.”

Cannon stepped out of Trig’s room after putting his duffel inside and stared at the two guests. “Are you sure you two aren’t together-together?”

Charlie blushed. “Of course not.”

“All right.” He shrugged and walked down the hallway. “Get yourselves settled.” He pointed at Trig. “I’ll tell my brother you’ll be over in a few.”

Trig lifted his chin in acknowledgement, but his eyes never left Charlie. She was so pretty without even trying. “I’ll catch you later.” He felt a nudge against his leg. “Done playing for the night, Clovis?”

“He could use more play and less bacon,” Charlie teased.

“It’s carrots and long walks for him from now on.”

She lowered to a squat and petted the dog, lifting his chin up and taking a closer look at his face. “His eye looks irritated.”

It was hard for Trig to squat and not give away his injury. The last thing he wanted was to draw attention to his leg when he felt so normal. “He was scratching at it earlier. I’ll keep an eye on it.”

Her look of concern vanished and was replaced with a smile. “Let me know if you need me to take a look tomorrow.”

“Will do.” Part of him wanted to lean forward and kiss her. Not a heated passionate kiss, although that sounded pleasant enough, but a kiss that said thanks for taking a chance and stopping to pick up a stranger.

He found himself leaning forward and pressing his lips to her cheek. “I’ll see you around.”

Her hand came to her cheek and that’s how he left her. “Let’s go, Clovis.” He walked inside his room and shut the door.

Fifteen minutes later he was unpacked and on his way to Bowie’s. Not knowing how Clovis would be around Bowie’s dog Bishop or his daughter Sahara, he decided to leave those introductions until tomorrow.

“No whining tonight,” he told the dog before he closed the door. Clovis was supposed to be his support animal but Trig had realized early on that the dog needed him just as much. He seemed to have separation anxiety and would whimper if left alone too long.

Cannon met him in the living room and they both walked to the cabin next door.

Seeing Bowie was like going back to the day he lost his leg, but so much happier. He pulled the big man in for a hug. “Thank you, man. I don’t know what I’d have done without you.”

In true Bowie form, he said, “Bled out.”

They sat on the back porch as a light dusting of snow fell around them and watched the tiny fires that flicked on the frozen lake. “People are really out there fishing?”

“Yep. It’s actually great if you don’t freeze your nuts off in the process.” He told Trig the story of the last time he, Cannon, and Dalton went ice fishing. “It was a mass exodus to warm beds and hot women.”

A beautiful blonde walked onto the deck and placed a plate of cookies in front of them. Bowie pulled her into his lap.

“This is my amazing wife, Katie. She owns the bakery in town.” He offered Trig a cookie.

Trig couldn’t believe his buddy had actually settled down. Bowie said he’d never fall in love again because losing the person he’d loved was too painful. Look at him now. He was a husband and a father. Trig swallowed his envy. He couldn't be upset that the man who’d saved his life had gotten one of his own.

“Cannon says you came up here with Charlie?”

Trig nodded. “Yep, my Mustang is stuck in the snow at the bottom of the pass. I’ll call for a tow tomorrow.”

“We can ask Bobby Williams to make the arrangements. He owns the gas station and car repair shop in town. He’ll know who to call.”

Trig looked around and sighed. It felt damn good to be among friends. “I’m so happy to be here.”

Katie rose from her husband’s lap. “I’m heading to bed. I’ve got to be up to make the muffins early.”

Bowie stood with his wife and kissed her long and hard. “I’ll get up with the baby.”

She laughed. “If I weren’t so tired, I’d consider that foreplay.” She looked up at Bowie and winked. “It was nice meeting you, Trig. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“I’ll be here.” He looked toward the bed and breakfast and saw a shadow on the deck and knew immediately it was Charlie. It was too tall to be Sage and didn’t have enough limbs to be one of the dogs. “What’s Charlie’s story?” he asked. Although he thought the question, it somehow made it out of his mouth aloud.

“Hard to say,” Cannon started. “She’s been gone a long time—like ten years. Her mother died, and she couldn’t handle it so she left for college and never came back.”

“She got family here?”

Both the brothers said yes at the same time.

Cannon silenced himself with a cookie and Bowie continued. “Not unlike my story, I imagine. Someone she loved died and she couldn’t live in the place that reminded her of the loss.”

“But now she’s back?”

Cannon swallowed. “Her dad is the local doctor. There’s more to it, but rumor has it she blamed him for her mother’s death. Like somehow he should be capable of saving everyone.”

He sipped the beer Bowie had handed him the second he arrived. “It’s easy to blame others when life doesn’t go your way.”

Bowie emptied his bottle and reached into the cooler for three more. “It’s easy to lie to yourself when the truth hurts so much.” They all popped the caps off the new beers and toasted to friendship and truth.

It was two hours and three additional beers later when Trig stumbled back to his room. He turned the light on and found it empty.

“Clovis? Come here, boy.” He searched his space thoroughly and began to worry. Had he somehow gotten loose? A basset hound was no match for the wilds of the Colorado mountains. “Clovis?” he repeated in a whispered yell.

He stopped to listen and heard the soft yelp of his dog. He followed the noise next door to Charlie’s room. He didn’t understand how his dog had gotten into her space.

He tapped at the door lightly, hoping she was still up, but no light shone from beneath the door. He didn’t want to barge in and steal his dog back, but somehow the damn pup had ended up where he shouldn’t be. He turned the handle, expecting it to be locked but found it wasn’t.

He managed one step inside then tripped over something and found himself on the floor.

A light flickered on and Charlie stood in front of him dressed in nothing but pink panties and a T-shirt. God was she gorgeous. The woman was all legs until his eyes found the rounded curve of her perfect ass. He took her in from her red toenail polish to her pebbled nipples poking against the shirt.

“Wow, you are so damn hot.”

He expected her to ignore him. Most women did, but what he saw on Charlie’s face confused him until he followed her line of sight.

She was staring at his left leg, which was turned at an odd angle.

“Oh my God, you’re hurt. Don’t move. It’s broken.” She fell to her knees and reached for his leg.

The last thing Trig wanted was sympathy. “I’m fine,” he grumbled. He reached down and twisted his prosthetic leg so it was back to facing the correct direction.

“You’re not fine. You fell, and that’s got to hurt.”

He was far too drunk to have a filter. “Like a son of a bitch, but that was years ago.” He hopped to his feet and limped to the door. “I just want my dog. Save your pity party for someone else.”

She fisted her hips, which only drew his attention to her curves. “Your dog cried from the minute you left. The only way to get some sleep was to invite him into my bed.”

Trig looked at Clovis and said “Lucky bastard” before he hobbled back to his room with Clovis following closely behind.