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ABOUT TWO YEARS LATER…

T he cabin was quiet.

Not the one where Claire and Peter had nearly died, but the one they had spoken of so often — Adam’s parents’ place.

She sat in a rocking chair on the porch, wrapped in a thick flannel blanket, a cup of weak herbal tea in hand. Adam came out carrying a toolbox, then paused, taking in the sight of her.

“You should be resting.”

“I am resting. I just happen to be doing it out here.”

Adam chuckled and set down the toolbox. He knelt to check one of the porch boards, but his eyes drifted back to her.

Claire watched him with the same focus.

“I’ve been thinking about the future,” she said.

Adam sat back on his heels. “Always.”

“You know it, honey. This place could be beautiful again. Stronger than before. I want a bigger barn. Not a huge one. Just enough room for Bolt and Buttercup, and maybe a few more horses.”

Adam grinned. “Already ahead of you. We’ll start sketching plans tomorrow.”

She smiled, but her gaze drifted south. “Do you think it’s really over?”

“No,” Adam said. “But I think we finally have the upper hand. Something must have stopped them. All funny business has stopped at the ranch. Lala hasn’t been seen since we found Peter.”

Peter stepped out, his eyes clearer than they’d been in years. The last two years had been good for all of them.

Although he was still running Clara Mae’s farm, at least once a week, the three of them came to Falcon Run and worked on building their new home.

Well, Adam and Peter were building.

Pregnant with their first child, Claire wasn’t lifting anything. Having almost lost her… twice, he wasn’t taking any chances with her or their unborn baby. She’d been having way too many complications with the pregnancy.

Peter carried the radio to the open window next to Claire. “Casey Kasem’s Top 40 is on. Next up is supposedly a special dedication. I know how much you love those, Claire.”

Claire smiled. “I do.” She took Peter’s hand. “Thank you.”

Adam lingered on the porch as the music floated through the open window.

“ Before we play the number one song this week, we have a special long-distance dedication. A very long distance ,” said Casey Kasem’s smooth, upbeat voice through the speaker.

“ This one goes out to a brother in Anchorage from his brother in Argentina . Your brother says , ‘ Take care of my backpack , because I’m a Free Bird .’ Well …

” The deejay chuckled. “ Not sure if I get that one , but here’s your song , Argentina . ”

The opening strum drowned out the rest. That slow, aching guitar filled the cabin and porch like smoke — familiar, unwelcome, and impossible to ignore.

Free Bird by Lynyrd Skynyrd.

Adam froze.

Thomas’s favorite song.

Backpack .

He couldn’t have said Falcon Run — too small. Anchorage, though... And Thomas knew Adam rarely missed the countdown.

Adam bolted inside, tore open the hall closet, and yanked down the battered vinyl backpack Thomas had given him. It was empty — they’d turned in the drug cash two years ago — but he’d never been able to part with the last thing Thomas had given him.

His fingers traced something stiff inside the lining.

Heart pounding, Adam sliced the seam with his pocketknife.

A folded letter slipped free, the paper soft with age.

Adam,

I’m sorry, man. I never wanted to leave you and Peter, but if you don’t cut off the head of the snake, it’ll come back, stronger.

I tracked the actual leader of the men who are coming to kill me to Argentina.

So you know, I never stole from them — as they’ve accused me. I simply messed up the batch.

Amazing how one mistake can cost you your life — or worse, your brothers’ lives. I can’t live with that, the reason I’ve packed this go-bag for you. I hope they’ll chase me — or think I’m dead.

As soon as I take down this gang, I’ll be back. Until then, know that I will ALWAYS watch you from afar.

You’re going to be great Adam — scratch that — you’ve always been great.

Mom knew it. Dad knew it. Hell, even that little girlfriend of yours, Claire, saw you for the hero you were…

even in kindergarten. I hope you find your way…

to her. Remember, my brother, no matter what, the Midnight Sons always forge forward.

Love,

Thomas

Adam sank to the floor, the letter pressed to his chest.

Claire came to the doorway. “You okay?”

He looked up, eyes wet. “I’m gonna be just fine.”

She knelt beside him, read the letter, then looked into his eyes.

“Huh! Isn’t that something. Well, you always said you didn’t think he meant to put you in Peter in harm’s way, which reminds me…” She turned his face to look at her. “What do you want to name him?”

“ Him ? Who, him ?”

“Your son.”

“We’re having a son.”

She smiled. “Yeah, I didn’t want to say anything until I was sure. But, yep, it’s a boy. I was waiting for the right time to tell you.”

“Samuel Thomas,” Adam said instantly. “After my dad and older brother. I wasn’t sure before, but now I know.”

Claire touched his cheek. “What about the next one?”

“We’re having more?”

“Four, eventually,” she said. “I figured you should have your own team of Midnight Sons.”

Adam laughed. “Okay. Second one’s Alex. After your gramps.”

“And if it’s a girl?”

“Still Alex.”

“And… the last two.”

“Whatever you like, as long as the third name starts with a V . Fourth an E ,” he said.

“And if we somehow end up with five? God help me.”

Adam kissed her. “Then the last child’s name will start with a D .” He kissed her belly. “S.A.V.E.D.”

* * *