Operation Homecoming. Justine Davis

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      A quick glance around showed that the dark blue SUV he’d seen Quinn leave in was parked a few feet down. At the very end of the gravel drive sat an older, rather nondescript silver coupe, like thousands of others on the road. A few yards closer, in between the coupe and Quinn’s vehicle, sat an older, dark gray pickup.

      “Liam’s here,” Hayley said.

      “He’s that cute Texas boy, right?” Amy said.

      “That would be Liam,” Hayley said with a grin.

      Cute Texas boy? Walker wondered.

      And then he was completely distracted by the sight of his sister’s dog raising up on his hind legs and batting at something near the door. It was, he realized, an automatic door opener, like a handicapped entrance. He wondered if they had regular visitors who needed it, or if they’d put the thing in just for the dog.

      The door swung open, and Cutter vanished inside in a rush.

      “He’s in a hurry,” Amy said.

      “He’s never quite happy if Quinn and I aren’t together.”

      Amy laughed, and it was a light, airy thing that made him feel as if a feather had brushed his ear. “And neither are you and Quinn.”

      Hayley grinned. “Nope.”

      He should be happy for her, Walker thought. And he was happy for her. It was himself he was feeling ridiculously sorry for. He’d known this would be tough; he just hadn’t expected it to be this tough. He thought he even preferred his sister’s anger to this nonchalance, as if he were barely there, or didn’t matter to her at all.

       What did you expect?

      He reminded himself that he’d been here less than twenty-four hours, and it was a bit early to be giving up. He tried to put himself in her shoes, or better, in Quinn’s. If he loved somebody as much as Quinn obviously loved Hayley, and he came face-to-face with someone who had hurt her so badly, what would he do?

       I have no idea. I’ve never loved anyone like that.

      He caught the door just as it was about to close behind Amy. For a moment he found himself standing stock-still, watching as she walked into the building. From behind, she looked...amazing. Snug jeans and that blue sweater that had a white tribal sort of design around the bottom edge at the hip. It seemed to emphasize her shape, that sexy curve, the taut backside. The red-brown hair fell halfway down her back in smooth waves, unlike the wild orange curls he remembered. The coloring that had drawn so much unwanted attention to her.

      The freckles, he thought suddenly. They, too, had smoothed out, or perhaps she just stayed out of the sun enough that they had faded. He remembered that summer Amy had gone with them on a trip to the coast. He’d been maybe twelve, so Hayley—and Amy—would have been about eight. She’d gotten so sunburned it had been pitiful. But she’d learned her lesson and made sure it hadn’t happened next time.

      That was also the trip when he’d first learned of her life. He’d been amazed—and more than a little annoyed—that she exclaimed with wonder over the simplest things. “You really wouldn’t mind?” was the phrase he heard most often from her when his parents acquiesced to something as simple as having another hot dog. It was his father who had finally taken him on a long walk down the beach and explained about her life at home and what a jerk he was being.

       “Now that you understand, I’m going to trust you to look out for her when I can’t.”

      His father’s words slammed back into his mind, forgotten until now. He’d promised with all the sincerity of his twelve-year-old heart.

      And you broke that one, too. For the sake of people you’ve never even met and never will? Nice priorities, Cole.

      Then he was inside, and what he saw was enough to push the memory out of his mind, for now at least.

      To his surprise, the ground level of the utilitarian—and conspicuously unmarked, he’d noticed—green building was furnished like a home. The room was large, the great-room effect emphasized by wood flooring, and a fireplace against one long wall. In front of that, around a large, low table, was arranged a leather sofa and a couple of chairs atop a patterned rug. Above the mantel was a flat screen, dark now. Back in one corner was what appeared to be a full bath. In the other corner, a small kitchen area with an island.

      Two men were there, and Cutter dashed over to them. He greeted the taller of the two men first, a lean, almost lanky guy with a firm jaw stubbled slightly with a dark beard. As he bent to acknowledge the dog, Walker saw his dark hair was nearly as long as his own was now, and nearly as unruly.

      Cutter leaned into him and, oddly, he thought he heard the man say softly to the animal, “It’s okay today, dog,” as he scratched a spot behind the dog’s right ear.

      Cutter then turned to the other man, a muscular guy with a buzz cut who appeared quite a bit younger, who crouched down to the dog’s eye level.

      “Hey, buddy,” he crooned, “how ya doing?” As he went for that same spot behind the ear, Walker wondered if that would work for him even as he cataloged the man as, judging from the trace of a drawl, “that cute Texas boy” Amy had mentioned. Texas, anyway, he was no judge of cute.

      Except maybe Amy. But she wasn’t cute, not really. She was too serious for cute. But attractive? Oh, yeah. That had happened.

      “Rafe, Liam, you remember my dearest, best friend Amy Clark, from the wedding?” Hayley asked. Walker cataloged the names and faces instinctively.

      “Of course,” the taller man who had to be Rafe said. “Welcome back.”

      “Who could forget you?” the younger one asked rather blatantly. Walker saw the dark-haired man’s eyes roll slightly, but affectionately, while Amy herself merely laughed.

      “Anyone,” she said, “but I’m glad you didn’t. It’s good to see you both again.”

      With another woman who looked like this one, Walker would have thought the charming, self-effacing demeanor an act. But with Amy he knew it was likely for real, born of years when being overlooked had been a rare blessing.

      “So,” Rafe said as he took a sip from the coffee cup he held and shifted his gaze to Walker, “the prodigal brother returns.”

      Walker realized he was being studied, and from the man’s expression, not favorably.

      “Not exactly,” Walker said drily. “He got a warmer welcome.”

      The man lifted a dark eyebrow. “Figure you deserve one?”

      Okay, so no punches pulled there. “No. But your boss already decked me, so I’d appreciate it if you’d restrain.”

      The younger man straightened and looked at him consideringly. “I thought he looked a mite satisfied when he came in this morning.” Liam’s gaze flicked to Hayley. “More than usual, I mean.”

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