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Misty could still hear Link’s question as it echoed through her head, her body, her soul. What are we doing?

She didn’t have an answer for him, but she did like talking to him. She liked that they had inside jokes, and she liked the way his big hand covered hers. He made her feel safe, and that meant everything to Misty. Absolutely everything.

He disappeared with a duo of horses, his pair of dogs trotting alongside them all, and the pure cowboy goodness of it made her heart so happy. When she couldn’t see him any longer, she ducked her head and headed back toward the coolness of the barn.

Misty normally filled her days with work and her evenings with friends, movies, or painting. She wasn’t sure if the cabin had anything good to watch, and all of her painting supplies were unreachable in her apartment.

She and Janie could go do something together, and they probably would. But right now, she could help clean up from lunch, and Misty returned to the charming blue barn where she’d spent the past couple of hours, waiting for Link to show up.

Cowboys had come in and out, eaten and gone back to work, and Misty had watched the door religiously. Women and children did the same, and while a couple of tables still remained in the hall, the others had been taken down and rolled away to some hidden closet or compartment.

Misty spotted Janie flirting with a cowboy probably a decade younger than her, and he certainly seemed game for whatever she wanted. She shook her head as she approached them, and Janie grabbed her arm and pulled her in. “Misty, have you met Brandon Rhinehart?”

“I just heard the name Rhinehart outside,” Misty said. “Cactus has been up on your ranch for a couple of days?” She looked at the dark-haired, dark-eyed man, and saw all of Janie’s hopes and dreams.

“Sure,” Brandon said easily, and Misty knew instantly that he was far too young for her—and Janie was four years older than her. Someone called his name, and they all looked toward a lighter version of the cowboy in front of them.

He wore a scruffy beard that looked like he’d shaved this morning and it had grown in already. “Brandon,” he said as he arrived. “I have to get back to the ranch. Daddy says there’s a wildlife officer there. C’mon.”

“All right,” Brandon said as his brother finally acknowledged Misty and Janie.

“Hello,” he said. “Sorry to interrupt.”

“It’s fine,” Misty said. “We’re just going to help clean up. Did you boys get leftovers for tonight?” She shot a look at Janie that meant a great deal, and the Rhineharts said that yes, they’d been loaded up with food for that evening.

As they departed, Misty fell to Janie’s side and watched them. “He’s a baby,” she said.

“He’s cute, though.” Janie nudged her with her elbow. “Besides, it’s not like Link is that much older than them.” She turned toward the kitchen to go help, and Misty flowed with her.

“He absolutely is,” Misty said as they reached the table where the leftovers were. She picked up a container and started filling it with potato salad.

“Please.” She scoffed and passed the container to Janie so she could add some barbecue ribs. “He’s barely twenty-six. Does he know you’re four years older than him?” She leaned closer and whispered their age difference, as if it was truly scandalous.

“Yes,” Misty said simply, pretending putting salad in a Tupperware required all of her attention. “Brandon is barely twenty.”

“He is not. He’s at least Link’s age.”

“He is not,” Misty argued back. “He had a baby face.”

“Who?” a woman asked, and Misty looked up from her task. A woman with deep, dark auburn hair stood there, her blazing eyes demanding an answer. She had to be a Glover, and Misty caught the glint of a diamond on her left hand as she picked up another container and ladled in some of Misty’s beef tips and mushroom gravy.

“Uh, just Brandon Rhinehart,” Misty said.

“Oh, sure.” The woman smiled. “He’s older than you think.” She glanced over to Misty and Janie. “He just can’t grow a beard.” She laughed lightly, and she stood taller than most women Misty knew. She didn’t carry an ounce of fat on her body, and she definitely could command a room. This whole barn, probably.

“He’s my brother-in-law,” she said. “I’m Arizona Rhinehart.” She smiled at Janie and then Misty. “Are you guys staying for long? I heard they opened up Building C.”

“Our apartment is the origin of the fire,” Janie said.

“Are you a Glover?” Misty blurted out. She’d abandoned filling any containers, and she ignored Janie’s thump on her hip.

Arizona blinked at her. “Yes,” she said slowly. “I haven’t carried that name for a while, but, yes.”

“Once a Glover, always a Glover,” another woman said, and Misty looked past Arizona to find Link’s mother standing there. Her heart froze in her chest, just suddenly came to an icy, stuttering stop.

Arizona looked at her too. She swiveled her head back to Misty. “Have we met?”

“Oh, let me,” Sammy said as she moved to Arizona’s side. “Zona, this is Misty Granger. Misty, one of Link’s aunts. I’m sure you’ve met millions of them today, but she’s the most beautiful.”