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After a CT scan and a thorough checkup at the hospital, Paradise was released to go home. She rested amid a mountain of pillows

atop the bottom bunk bed. Her jaw ached and so did her head. The boys curled at her side like puppies. Levi had a book, and

Isaac scribbled with his crayons in a coloring book. The scent of wax from the crayons was somehow homey and soothing to Paradise.

Her dark hair in a messy bun, Jenna poked her head inside the door. “How’s your headache?”

“Lurking in the background but not bad.”

“Want me to scoop these hoodlums out of here?”

“They’re fine. I like having them with me. I—I don’t really want to be alone.” Paradise still trembled from the memory of

that iron coming toward her from out of nowhere. The malevolence of such an action was unbelievable. Who would want to hurt

Blake like that?

Jenna’s expression softened, and she headed toward the closet. “I’ll put some lavender essential oil in the diffuser. That

should help your aching head. I don’t mind sitting with you either.”

“You have a lot to do. I’m fine with your boys taking care of me.”

Her expression still doubtful, Jenna pulled out a diffuser and a box of essential oils. The hiss of the machine started, and

the scent of lavender began to swirl around the room. “I have to order food, but I’ll check in later.”

“Wh-where’s Blake?” Paradise hated the way she sounded so needy. She was fine—really. Just shaken.

What if that iron had killed Blake? The thought of those gentle eyes being closed forever stole her breath, and she closed

her eyes briefly.

“You okay, Paradise?” Jenna asked.

Paradise opened her eyes and nodded. “Fine.” She was relieved her voice sounded normal.

“Blake said to tell you he’d check on you after he was done with the investigation. Detective Greene is out there now assessing

the attack.” Jenna’s voice wobbled. “I’ll admit I’m worried about my boy. He’s usually the main person to access that shed.

Someone seems out to get him. I-I’ve lost two men I love now, and the thought of losing my oldest son is overwhelming.”

Paradise should have thought of Jenna’s fear in this situation. “Of course you’re scared. It feels like the answer to who’s

behind all this is lurking just out of sight. Does Blake have any enemies?”

“Not that I know of. He makes friends wherever he goes.”

“What about when he was in the Marines? Could he have made an enemy there?”

The troubled expression in Jenna’s blue eyes intensified. “I hadn’t thought of that, but I suppose it’s possible. We can ask

him. There’s an incident that happened in Afghanistan that he doesn’t like to talk about. I’ve thought this had to be related

to the preserve, but it could be something else.”

The determination to get to the bottom of the danger pushed Paradise’s headache to the back of her consciousness. Or maybe it was the sweet scent of lavender essential oil filling her lungs. She sat up and grabbed the notebook on the bedside table. Check Afghanistan, other jobs.

“You have more color in your cheeks,” Jenna said with a lilt in her voice. “I’m glad you and Blake have buried the hatchet.

He’s beaten himself up for years about how things went down with you. I think your coming back will be healing for you both.”

The pen stilled in Paradise’s hands, and she glanced up to glimpse speculation in Jenna’s face. Did she secretly hope they

would resume their relationship? The thought wasn’t as terrifying as it had been before that kiss. Was Jenna right and her

heart was healing? Paradise hadn’t thought it possible for that to happen.

When Jenna left, Paradise glanced at the boys. Levi was on his back with both legs bent. One leg was suspended by the knee

of the other one. His foot swung back and forth as he read, and he had the cutest bedhead she’d ever seen. Isaac wore a frown

of concentration as he colored the sea a gray color. The sky was black, but the area had recently undergone a tropical storm,

so he might be easing the trauma of it with the colors. Maybe that’s what she should have done—poured all her stress and pain

into some kind of art to drain the power it had held over her heart.

Instead, she had bottled it up inside where it had festered and soured for years. What would it feel like to let it all float

off her shoulders? Could she even do it? For so many years she’d guarded her heart and feelings, never letting anyone get

too close.

Isaac put down his crayon and crawled over to nestle against her. She snugged him against her side and rested her chin on his tousled head to inhale the scent of his shampoo. His hair smelled of eucalyptus, just like Blake’s. The little boys mimicked Blake in everything, even their toiletries. Blake took his role of surrogate father with great care. The boys were lucky to have him in their lives.

Was it too late for Paradise to turn her life around? Did she dare hope for her life to change so dramatically?

***

Blake shook his head in disgust as Greene drove off in a plume of red dirt. It was clear nothing would convince the deputy

to actually investigate the incidents. The guy already saw Blake behind bars for orchestrating it himself. In what universe

did that make sense?

Eager to see how Paradise was doing, he jogged toward the main house. As he reached the porch, his phone sounded with a call

from Hez. Blake dropped into a rocker on the porch. “Hey, buddy. I was hoping to hear from you today. We’ve got more trouble.”

He launched into the morning’s events as well as the hyena incident.

“You think both incidents were targeted at you?” Hez’s deep voice rumbled with concern.

“At least the shed trap had to be aimed at me. Most of the time I’m the only one in there. And we have a schedule for who

is cleaning what enclosures. It was my turn.” He told his cousin about the detective. “He had the place dusted for prints,

and of course, most will be mine. He asked me if I had that kind of wire in my supplies. Of course I do. And we also have

old homesteading artifacts used as decorations around the sheds and houses. I just checked and the old iron that had been

in the family restroom was missing.”

A long pause followed. “I see,” Hez said. “Step-by-step, someone is setting you up.”

“Yeah. I’m swinging in the dark trying to figure it out. If I had some idea who was behind it, I might make some progress. You have any luck with the developer?”

“I checked into Frank Ellis pretty thoroughly. I thought he was clean until I heard a complaint about a finder’s fee he paid

to a guy for help in acquiring a property out on Fort Morgan Road.”

Blake knew his cousin well enough to catch his guarded tone. “And that’s problematic how?”

“Someone in the community might be desperate enough to do Mr. Ellis a favor by running you off.”

“What did the last guy do to help him out?”

“Several people said he started a clandestine online smear campaign against the business. It was never proven, of course,

probably because the business owner didn’t have the money to file a lawsuit and find the proof.”

Blake frowned. “A smear campaign using the protests would be about the same thing, but taking it to murder, arson, and personal

attacks is a whole new level.”

“True. And very concerning. It might not be an Ellis accomplice at all. In fact, it sounds like someone with a vendetta against

you personally.”

The door opened on his right and Paradise stepped out onto the porch. Her curly hair was down on the shoulders of her tee,

and he spied a bruise on one of those gorgeous legs, about six inches above her ankle. He gestured to the rocker beside him,

and she nodded before settling in it.

She tucked a thick curl behind her ear, and the light revealed the dark circles under her eyes and the bruise spreading out

from her hairline on the left side. At least she was alive.

He realized Hez had said something. “Excuse me?”

“I think you should start thinking about anyone who might have a grudge against you or your mom.”

“Why Mom?”

“What better way to get back at her than to take her oldest son? There’s no greater pain than losing a child.” Hez’s voice

went husky.

Blake winced. He’d walked that painful road with Hez when his little girl died, and that was a never-ending pain. “True. I’ll

talk to Mom. Thanks for all you’re doing, Hez. I appreciate it.”

“You’ll get my bill.”

Blake laughed. “Like the last one?” Hez had yet to bill them for any of the work.

“Just like that. Talk later. Give my best to everyone.”

Blake put his phone away and examined Paradise’s expression. “How’s that headache?”

“Not too bad. Your mom diffused lavender, so I apologize if the boys’ room smells girly when you get to sleep here again.”

He grinned. “You think I made it to thirty years old without having essential oils rubbed on my chest and that air diffuser

going? I’m used to it.”

She chuckled. “How’d you get so easygoing? Was it losing your dad at such a young age?”

“My mom would tell you I came from the womb without a wail and she never heard me cry until I fell off the bed at six months old.” He shrugged. “I think she’s exaggerating. I remember a lot of times growing up when I was watching her struggle to make ends meet and I wanted to make things easier somehow. I thought if I never complained or cried, it would be easier for her. I’m not sure that’s true, and it probably set me back some in life. The squeaky wheel gets the oil, you know? I might have moved up the food chain in the Marines if I’d been the type to be career focused.

“When I became a Christian at twelve, I started on a journey of trying to be truthful about everything. There were some conflicts

during those years until I figured out Jesus didn’t need me to tell Mom she was getting lines around her eyes or to tell my

best friend he was a blockhead.” He barked out a laugh. “Live and learn.”

She stared down at her hands. “I think you’re pretty perfect, you know.”

He almost didn’t hear the softly spoken words, and he wasn’t sure how to answer. He was far from perfect, but he wanted to

be that way, at least in her eyes. “Hardly perfect. Think back to your fifteen-year-old self and channel that earlier rage.

You’ll remember all the ways I failed you.”

She gave the chair a gentle rock and didn’t look at him. “Teenagers don’t need to be taught stupid. Their hormones do the

talking.”

What did she mean by that? Did she mean their teenage obsession with each other was only hormones? It hadn’t been on his part.

Even if she hadn’t realized it yet, they were bound together in their teens, and that bond had never really been severed.