The next day, Lisa felt well enough to see the handful of patients lined up outside the Med Mobile. Afterwards, Evie—with Deke’s help—managed to talk her into postponing the rest of the tour so she could go see a doctor about her headaches.

Evie spent the afternoon updating their website and drafting a notification to their newsletter subscribers. Lisa insisted on calling each of the host locations to deliver the bad news and to assure them the tour would resume soon. Deke had been making his own phone calls, though she couldn’t discern their nature.

She thought he was trying to arrange a pickup, but he wound up driving back with them to Steele Ridge, only to leave as soon as they arrived. After he loaded her luggage into the back of her Rogue, he tangled his fingers with hers. An uncertain silence descended between them.

“Are you headed back to Asheville?” she asked, trying to find a clever way of asking when he’d return—and failing.

“Not for another week.” He opened her driver’s side door. “Enough time to find my brother and ring his neck.”

“Be gentle. He might have stumbled upon Gracie Gilbert seconds before we did.”

“Why did he run from me?”

“Maybe because he’d just seen the inside of a dead woman’s neck.”

“Gallows humor, already?”

“All I meant by my comment was that there’s no way to prepare yourself for such a sight. And there’s not a right or wrong way to react.”

His lopsided grin appeared. “When did you get so smart?”

“Around three years old, I think.” She squeezed his fingers. “I’m going to miss you.”

He tucked a few strands of wayward hair behind her ear. “I won’t be gone long.”

“You won’t?”

“We have more talking to do.”

She tried to smile, but it came across wobbly. “We do?”

Nodding, he whispered, “I’m about to do something contradictory and foolish and so damn necessary.” He drew her against his body and covered her mouth with his. The kiss was gentle, tender. More so than any other before it. An ache formed in her throat. She couldn’t shake the feeling, despite his assurances, that it would be months before she saw him again.

He pulled away, and her anxiety trebled. The words “call me” clung to her lips, clawing for escape. Too desperate, too needy.

Instead, she sent him off with an even more inane parting. “Stay safe.”

When she made her way down Tupelo Hill’s long drive, she noticed several familiar vehicles parked outside her mother’s most prized possession—a large white farmhouse with a beautiful wraparound porch. A place her six children could always call home, even though the house they grew up in was about a quarter of the Hill’s size.

The screen door leading into the kitchen slammed behind her, forcing five pair of eyes in her direction.

“Evie!” her mom exclaimed, casting the other occupants a nervous look before giving her youngest a kiss and hug. “You’re home early.”

Her smile faded as she took in Britt and Randi and Reid and Brynne. They all wore the same “caught me” expressions. She could hear others in the dining room.

“Lisa got sick. What’s going on?”

Britt strode over, bussed her cheek, and relieved her of her carry-on bag. “Hello, Squirt. Welcome back.”

“What am I interrupting?”

“You’re not interrupting anything. Boring family reunion talk,” her brother Reid said, hooking his arm around her neck and pecking a kiss on her head. “Mom’s feeding us. Come sit down. Food’s almost ready.”

Reid guided—or rather dragged—her into the dining room where she found the rest of the gang—Grif, Carlie Beth, Aubrey, Micki, and Gage. They were playing some kind of card Q&A game.

“Aunt Evie!” Aubrey bolted forward, all arms and legs and budding breasts.

Squeezing her niece tight, she asked, “Are you stomping the adults?”

“Everyone but Micki. No one can beat her.”

Micki, wearing a black tank top and jeans, waggled her eyebrows. “Hello, sis.”

Although she’d gotten over feeling abandoned by her sister, she still had a hard time doing the whole sista-love thing. She’d idolized Micki. Her big sister was crazy smart and kick-ass. No one had ever messed with her when Micki had been around.

But then Micki had run off and gone to Vegas, leaving Evie to deal with all the snotty, cruel kids. Those days still had the power to sting if she dwelled on the memories too long.

“Hey, Mick. You gonna tell me what this get-together’s really about?”

“Nope. Drop it so everyone can go back to pretending.”

She smiled. This was the Mikayla Steele she remembered and loved. Outspoken and never lip-glossed anything.

“I can go to my room and let everyone continue conspiring against me. I’m dog tired, anyway.”

A wiry, muscled arm curled around her middle, holding her steady. A hand shot out in front of her, and a jittery image of her and her brother appeared.

“Say ‘I’m a party pooper.’” Jonah crossed his eyes, then snapped a shot.

She tried to elbow him in the ribs, but he jumped away, laughing.

“That’s enough,” Joan Steele said, placing a large dish of lasagna on the table. “Evie, take your place.”

Grif’s lips twitched. “Got a spot right here.”

Randi, Britt, Reid, and Brynne brought in the rest of the dishes. To her amazement, Britt didn’t take the seat at the head of the table. A place he’d assumed not long after their father had crawled in the woods and never returned. Instead, he took the place to their mother’s right, with Randi moving to his other side. Evie slid next to Grif and waited to see who would take the head chair. The answer shocked her more than Britt’s decision not to sit there.

Busy uploading their selfie to God knew where, Jonah hadn’t yet realized the dynamic going on around him. When he finally dropped his phone into his pocket, he frowned, glancing between the head chair, Britt, and Mama—who raised a brow.

Britt said, “Food’s not getting any warmer, bro.” A look passed between the eldest and youngest brother. An understanding.

Tears stung her eyes. Britt had been the head of the household for over a decade. Tonight, he released the reins to Jonah—the only unattached male Steele.

Jonah looked supremely uncomfortable when he eased into the seat next to her.

She placed a hand on his arm. “You brought us all back together. The spot looks good on you.”

“Don’t get used to it,” Reid said. “If you ever join the ball and chain club, I’m busting your ass out of that chair. Always wanted to see the view from there.”

“Ball and chain?” Brynne repeated.

Reid winked. “Just an expression, Brynnie. You know you’re more like my anchor.”

“Not much better,” Grif warned, passing the breadbasket.

“I caught a glimpse of your new house on the drive in,” she said to Jonah. “They’ve made a lot of progress.”

“That monstrosity’s going to block out the sun and kill all of Mama’s flowers,” Reid said.

“Hardly,” Carlie Beth said. “The sun will flow right through all those big, beautiful windows.”

“The river stones were delivered today,” Jonah said. “I’m most looking forward to seeing the fireplace done.”

“Something you’ve always wanted,” Micki added, knowing her twin better than anyone else, despite their decade-long separation.

“The lasagna smells amazing, Mama,” Evie said.

A chorus of agreement wove around the table.

Mama smiled. “What happened to Lisa?”

Evie plopped a spoonful of cottage cheese next to a square of lasagna and a pool of her mom’s homemade applesauce on her plate. “She got a really bad headache. One that had her in the fetal position last night. Deke thinks she suffered a migraine.”

“Deke?” Britt asked.

“After you talked up the MedTour at Triple B the other day, he decided to spend his recuperation writing an article about us.”

“He joined the tour?”

“Yep?”

“Where’s he sleeping?”

“Right next to me.”

Granite solidified beneath Britt’s features. She glanced around. All her brothers wore the same I’m-going-to-kill-Conrad expression. Even Gage joined the mob.

Oh, crap. She could tease her brothers about a lot of things, but they would never find the sullying of her honor funny.

“He’s in the spare sleeper sofa.” Her clarification did little to soften their concerns, though Gage backed off a bit. Since he’d never seen the inside of the RV, he didn’t realize how close the sleepers were to each other. “Might I remind you all that Lisa slept only a feet away?”

One-by-one, her brothers’ attention returned to cleaning their plates. Micki’s mouth quirked into a sideways “You survived that one” smile.

“How cool that Deke’s writing about your good work,” Brynne said into the silence. “You’ll soon be a local celebrity.”

She released a tension-ridding snort-laugh. “I don’t think his literary reach goes that far.” She took a drink of water. “Besides, with the tour cut short, I doubt he got enough information to complete the article.”

“Where’s Deke now?” Britt asked.

She narrowed her eyes on her brother. “Why?”

“I want to see if he’s still up for some fishing.”

And a man-to-man chat, no doubt.

“Something came up with his brother. He returned to Steele Ridge only long enough to make sure Lisa was settled.”

“What’s going on with his brother?” Randi asked.

She hesitated. Only she and Deke knew for certain that Dylan was at the crime scene. The more people in the know, the more vulnerable Dylan would become. She had to give Deke a chance to sort out his brother’s involvement in Gracie Gilbert’s death.

“I’m not sure,” she said, settling on the truth.

“Dylan’s been in and out of trouble since they moved back to Rockton. Shoplifting, reckless driving, fights, the list goes on. Deke’s been cleaning up after him for years.”

“I’ve never heard him complain about Dylan,” she said.

“Have you heard Deke complain about anything?” Britt asked. “He’s like you. Lets all the negative stuff slide off his back.”

“Negativity solves nothing.”

Although Britt’s explanation about Dylan seemed to put the brakes on the any further questions, she decided to drive the conversation down a lane that wouldn’t catch fire.

“I’ve been thinking.” She caught Gage’s eye. “The training center needs a yogi.”

“Yogi?” Reid cut in, his face a mass of horrified wariness.

“To teach your participants yoga. It’s a complete mind-body workout that combines stretching and strengthening poses for the body with meditation exercises to focus the mind.”

“Sounds like a great idea,” Micki said.

“I agree,” Carlie Beth added.

“You want a bunch of cops and special ops guys doing the downward dog? In bike shorts?”

“Yes,” all the women chimed in, including Aubrey and Mama.

Gage smiled. “We’re outnumbered.” He contemplated Evie, his right eye scrunched. Although she’d used the workshop to redirect her brothers, the yoga concept was something she’d been toying with for several weeks. She had assumed Reid would pooh-pooh the notion as too metaphysical or something, so she hadn’t made any attempts to persuade him about yoga’s benefits.

Gage’s next comment was slow and thoughtful, as though he were working through the idea in a logical, systematic fashion. “Might be the thing that sets our training center apart from all the others. Wouldn’t hurt to strengthen more than our trainees’ instincts.”

“Dear God.” Reid sat back, glaring at his friend and president of the training center. “Are you siding with these lunatics?”

Resting his arm over the back of Micki’s chair, Gage caressed her bare shoulder. “Lunatics make for good company.”

“Evie, since you’re free for several days,” Mama said, swerving the conversation into yet another direction, “can you help me go through the attic? There’s so much up there that could go to charity.”

A cold sweat broke out all over Evie’s body as images of a dusty, dark, insect-filled shed overwhelmed her mind.

Everyone at the table became very interested in their food again, avoiding eye contact with Mama in order to dodge recruitment. Cowards.

For three decades, the Steele clan had accumulated stuff, like every other American family. All that stuff had lived in a shed behind their tiny house for years. When Jonah purchased Tupelo Hill for Mama, their stuff had traveled with them. Mama had not been ready to part with her children’s poorly drawn artwork or their third grade report cards or their first pair of shoes. Nor had she been prepared to trash her husband’s old grill or his rusted-out handsaw.

The clearing project would take days to complete. Days of battling old fears. Under normal circumstances, she would have jumped at the opportunity to sort through the memories and trash the junk. She loved to organize. Her clothes hung in her closet by color, not by season or style.

But she couldn’t organize the attic. No matter how much she loved her mother and wanted to help. Especially not right now. Right now, she needed to be moving, doing. She needed Deke, dammit.

Never in her wildest dreams would she have considered herself the clingy type. She wanted Deke here, beside her, joking with her family. Or she wanted to be with him, helping track down his brother, offering up a hug if he learned Dylan’s involvement in Gracie’s murder wasn’t incidental.

She rubbed her sweaty palms over the napkin in her lap. “Sorry, Mama. We’ll have to clean out the beast another time.” Holding back a shudder, she cut a bite of lasagna with her fork. “I’m headed out of town tomorrow.”

“Where’re you going?”

“I intend to finish the MedTour.”

“By yourself?”

“How are you going to treat patients without Lisa’s supervision?” Jonah asked. “Doesn’t that violate some health care rule?”

“I’ll work out a plan with Lisa’s supervisor, Dr. Muir. There will definitely be some things I can’t do, but lots of other things I can do.”

She caught Randi glancing at Carlie Beth, whose lips twitched before she caught Brynne’s gaze.

What were those three smirking about? She peered at her sister in confusion. Micki wore a knowing grin and one brow hitched into a you-can’t-be-that-dense arch.

Rather than call them out on whatever crazy notion they floated around to each other, she mixed her cottage cheese with her applesauce before spooning the combo into her mouth. She ignored the whisper of understanding that crackled in the back of her mind.

Deke had nothing to do with her resuming the MedTour.

Nothing at all.