Courage (Heroes of Big Sky 1)

“I know, but I have to make an effort to keep them clean.” She grins and looks around. “There must be a hundred people here. Maybe more.”

“And you know them all, so don’t get shy on me now.”

“I’m not shy. I’m surprised. I haven’t been to a King BBQ in many years. They’ve grown.”

She’s not wrong.

As the kids married and had children of their own, along with making new friends in town, the parties have gone from smallish get-togethers of a few dozen people to huge events with big white tents and rented tables and chairs.

And with this being the end of summer, it looks like the whole town made a point to show up.

“There you are,” Cara King, one of the owner’s wives says as she approaches with a big smile. “As you can see, we have a zoo going on here. I’ve been told a fishing party is getting ready to walk to the creek out back. I stay away from there.”

She winks at me, and I immediately remember that early summer day all those years ago when she and her nephew, Seth, got into trouble in the creek.

“We have food over that way,” she continues and points to the tent surrounded by mosquito netting. “Drinks are in there, too. In the field over there, we have a friendly game of horseshoes and cornhole. Zack and Josh have been swearing at each other all day, so enter at your own risk. Make yourselves at home. Let me know if you need anything.”

“Thanks, Cara,” Tash says. “I think you’re going to need help with cleanup when all of this is over.”

“I outsourced this year.” Cara winks. “Have fun, guys.”

She strolls away to welcome others who just arrived, and Noah and Fallon walk our way, holding out cold drinks to us.

“You look like you could use this,” Noah says as he passes me a beer.

“Thanks.”

“I see the kids found the puppies,” Fallon says with a grin and rubs her round, pregnant belly. “Isha is not talking me into one.”

“No, ma’am.” Noah winks at her. “No way.”

“I’m serious, Noah King.” Fallon frowns. “I have enough to do. Puppy training is not on that list.”

“Let’s get out of the sun,” Tash suggests, and we walk over to some Adirondack chairs set under a pair of umbrellas.

“What happened to your hand?” Fallon asks her.

“Oh, I had a run-in with a knife a few days ago. It’s not as bad as it was.” We all sit and enjoy watching the people around us; then she points at a group of teenagers hanging out by the above-ground swimming pool. “Who is that?”

“Miles, Sarah, Layla, and Kimberly,” Noah says, pointing at the teenagers. “Miles and Sarah are Zack’s twins. Layla’s Ty and Lauren’s daughter, and Kim is Cara and Josh’s daughter. They’re all in the same age range and attached at the hip.”

“Who’s the dude draped all over Layla?” I ask, narrowing my eyes.

“New kid in town,” Fallon says. “And that makes him mysterious and incredibly attractive to sixteen-year-old girls.”

“And what does her daddy have to say about that?” I ask.

“Her daddy isn’t happy.” I glance up to find Ty standing nearby, watching the kids with the eyes of a protective father. Ty’s a successful attorney here in Cunningham Falls, but he’s not in a suit today. He’s in a Megadeth T-shirt, his sleeve of tattoos showing. And as the boy in question leans in to plant his lips on Layla’s cheek, Ty’s jaw clenches. “Little son of a bitch better watch himself.”

“We could kill him,” Josh says as he and Zack join us. “There’re plenty of places to dispose of the body on the ranch. No one will find him.”

“Let’s not rush into homicide,” Ty says but crosses his arms over his chest when the boy pats Layla’s ass as she stands to walk to the drink tent. “Layla, come here.”

Her smile dims as she approaches her dad. “Yeah?”

“Let him touch you like that again, and I’ll take his hand off.”

Layla rolls her eyes. “It was harmless.”

“Like hell,” Ty growls. “I’ve been that kid’s age. It wasn’t harmless.”

“Fine.” She stomps away, her red hair flying as she flips it over her shoulder.

“I want my baby back,” Ty says with a sigh. “And she reminds me every day that that’s never gonna happen.”

“At least, she’s not pregnant,” Zack says with a helpful smile, and Ty turns to pull Zack into a headlock, only to end up on his back in the dirt.

“Men are violent,” Tash says, sipping her hard seltzer.

“Hey, what’s going on?” Seth King, Zack’s eldest son, says as he jumps into the mix, hurling himself on his dad’s back.

“Oof,” Zack says, under the weight of his adult son. “Get the fuck off me, kid.”

The jumble of pure male testosterone untangles itself, and the three men grin at each other, heaving in breaths.