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“ P lease take me home,” Ashley begged. She couldn’t believe the attending physician had insisted she spend the rest of the night in the medical center for observation. She was sick and tired of being rushed to the emergency room. She was fine — a little sore — but fine.

“That’s the plan, babe.” Johnny stood and rolled his shoulders. He’d pushed the boundaries on visiting hours by claiming he was pulling security. It wasn’t a complete fabrication. She’d overheard him on the phone with his supervisor, devising a plan for keeping her safe in the coming days.

So far, nothing had come from the sheriff’s APB for the hit-and-run driver. Though her Camaro was insured, it was going to take time to file a claim and deal with all the repairs.

A nurse bustled into the room to remove her I.V. and have her sign the discharge paperwork. “You need to rest and rest some more when you get home.” Her tone was firm. “Doctor’s orders.”

Ashley’s neck was too sore to nod, so she gave the woman a thumbs up. Though she was still very capable of walking on her own, the nurse insisted on rolling her in a wheelchair to the front entrance.

Johnny was waiting there with his Jeep. He hurried her way to lift her from the wheelchair to the passenger seat.

She grumbled the entire time. “Whenever y’all are done treating me like an invalid…” She fumbled with the seatbelt, feeling utterly defeated when Johnny had to assist her with such a simple task.

“I almost lost you,” he reminded thickly. “Just humor me, will you?”

“As long as you don’t try to sideline me from the case.” There were so many leads she needed to follow up on that she hardly knew where to jump back in. However, Monica Poet was counting on her to get her father the justice he deserved.

Johnny ran a finger down her cheek. “Nobody’s gonna sideline you, but you’re gonna have to let the rest of us do the heavy lifting for a few days.” He shut the door behind her and jogged to his side of the vehicle. “The file you brought back with you from Dallas is in Caro’s hands, as requested.”

“Any new developments yet?”

“As a matter of fact,” he drawled as he started the motor.

“Johnny,” she pleaded, “if you’ve been holding out on me while I was in the hospital…”

He filled her in as he drove. “The Feds have done some deep diving on the dark web and determined XAX is operating as a domestic terror group.”

She bit her lower lip. “Meaning this isn’t simply about some mega corporation cutting corners to make a quick buck?”

“Nope. These bozos are members of a hate group with a beef against the government. From the chatter the Feds have tracked online, they’re gearing up for something big. It took them a while — more than a year — to successfully replicate your mother’s findings. Apparently, it’s harder than it sounds to piggyback a genetically modified strain of bacteria to a perfectly healthy molecule of raw milk. It’s even harder to do it in a way that’ll go undetected by standard quality control measures.”

The idea of contaminating milk in a way that defied detection was terrifying. “I guess that explains why they’ve been targeting smaller dairy farms.” First, on the outskirts of Dallas, followed by pockets all over Texas.

“They’ve been testing the waters,” he agreed. “Or milk, in this case.”

Just thinking about it made her sick to her stomach. “With the hopes of doing something on a much larger scale, I imagine?”

“All signs point to it.”

“How do we stop them?” Her mind raced over the many creative ways the rogue XAX had been targeting small farmers. In Mr. Clark’s case, they’d made it look like a Black Widow operation. In Farmer Monty’s case, Martin had simply “borrowed” a little barn space until he could get his own place up and running.

“That’s the question of the century, babe.” Johnny drove out of the downtown area and set their course for the wide-open countryside.

“If all else fails, follow the money,” she muttered beneath her breath. It was an age-old strategy that law enforcement agencies had been using for centuries.

“A crime like that would definitely require funds.” His voice grew calculating.

“Which is why they’re running two crime operations alongside each other. On the surface, they look like two unrelated cases, but they’re not.” She was more convinced than ever that one was funding the other.

“I like the way you think.” Admiration tinged Johnny’s voice. It was a far cry from the dubiousness he’d exhibited the first time she’d broached the idea of one criminal operation paying for the other. “I like the way you do a lot of things.” They reached his farmhouse, but he continued down the gravel road leading to her cabin.

An unexpectedly cheerful sight met them on the front porch. An enormous bouquet of winter white roses was resting on the doormat. A single blue rose was tucked on one side, and a matching blue velvet ribbon was tied into a fat bow around the vase.

“Wow, Johnny!” Ignoring the pain of her whiplash, Ashley hurried up the porch steps to claim the gorgeous roses. Raising them to her nose, she gave the blooms an appreciative sniff.

“They’re not from me.” He unlocked the front door and pushed it open for her.

“Oh.” Foot in mouth . “I’ll, um, see if the sender included a card.” Though she adored flowers, she was disappointed they weren’t from him, and she was embarrassed that she’d assumed they were. When would he have found the time? He hadn’t left her side since the accident.

She set the tall, crystal-cut vase on the kitchen cabinet and rummaged around for a card. It was buried deep within the roses. She tore it open and scanned the message.

“I don’t get it,” she whispered. It was from Martin.

The fact that he’d send the flowers was puzzling. What he’d written to her was equally puzzling:

Sorry about the accident.

I’m going to make things right.

She sucked in a breath. “How in the world did my ex find out about my accident?” She held out the card to Johnny so he could read it.

He looked as disturbed as she was. “Are you sure it’s from him?”

It was a fair question, since the card wasn’t signed. After dating Martin for the better part of five years, though, she was very familiar with his scrawl. “It’s his handwriting. I’m sure of it.”

She didn’t want to think any worse of Martin than she already did, but she had to question everything at this point. “Do you think he had something to do with it?”

“I’m gonna find out,” he vowed in a rough voice. “Whether he had a hand in it or not, he knows something.”

She stared at the bouquet, utterly perplexed. “While I’m peppering the air with questions that have no answers, here’s another one. What’s the point of sending white roses?” White symbolized purity, innocence, and new beginnings. She definitely wasn’t looking to get anything started with him again.

Johnny shrugged. “White is clean. His idea of making things right, maybe?”

“Maybe. And what’s with the single blue rose?” She flicked it with her thumb and forefinger.

“According to some research I did on another case, blue can represent a mystery,” he mused, cocking his head to study the one flower that didn’t match the others.

“You think it’s a warning?” It felt like a warning to her.

“Or he’s just messing with your head, something he seems to take great pleasure in doing.” His voice was dry.

“You’re right. It’s probably that.” They’d wasted enough time on the subject already. She was more than ready to dispose of the strange bouquet. Snatching up the vase, she carried it to the kitchen sink to drain out the water. Then she held it over the trashcan, closing her eyes before she let go.

“Whoa!” Johnny lunged her way. “Let me help you with that.” His hands came around hers, and together they lowered the vase into the trashcan. It wasn’t as satisfying as dropping it and shattering it like she’d wanted to, but it was a thousand times more practical.

“I’ll carry it to the dumpster for you on my way out,” he informed her gently.

“Thanks.” What really roasted her turnips was that Martin was on the run from the police and still trying to play the part of a wounded ex-fiancé. Their chances of reconciling were long gone. All the flowers had done was upset her. Again. Johnny was right about that.

A loud yowl rose from the back porch.

“We have company.” Johnny moved across the room to open the door.

Can Opener stalked in, still yowling.

Ashley took a seat on the edge of the sofa so he could push his head into her hands the way he enjoyed doing. “I missed you, big guy.” Oh, how she’d missed him! Her fingers brushed against his raggedy old collar. “Tell you what. We’re gonna go shopping together soon and get you a new collar.”

“Together?” Johnny raised his eyebrows over that.

“He loves to ride in…the car.” Her words ended with a grimace over the recollection that her car would be in the shop for a while.

“He’s a guy. He doesn’t care about stuff like that.” Johnny crouched down beside Can Opener to give him a back rub.

“But he’d look sharp in a bow tie,” she exclaimed. “What do you think, Can Opener? I could use a second opinion since Mr. Soul Crusher here is trying to cancel our shopping trip.” She attempted to hold Can Opener’s head still in order to get a closer look at his old raggedy collar, but it was an impossible task.

Johnny grunted. “Bow ties are way beyond his expertise, babe. And mine. Never worn one in my life. Never will.”

Her eyes widened. “You mean you’ve never worn a tuxedo?” Not even on his wedding day?

“That is correct.” He gave her a piercing look. “I wore jeans to my prom and every other important event in my life.”

She was thoroughly mesmerized by the unspoken questions zinging between them. “Are tuxedos one of those non-negotiable things with you?”

“Yep.” He raised a single eyebrow at her. “Is that gonna be a problem for us?”

She pretended to consider his question. “Can I get back to you about that?”

“Suit yourself.” He returned to petting Can Opener. “My answer on the subject won’t change.”

“Harsh,” she teased.

“Is it?” His voice dropped to a tender note. “I thought you understood you’re hobnobbing with a dairy farmer.” He reached for her hand, curling their fingers together and caressing her bare fourth finger — where a wedding band could easily rest someday.

Can Opener made an irritated sound over being ignored, hopped off the sofa, and stalked toward the kitchen.

“Johnny!” The air in her throat clogged over the way he was looking at her.

A crash sounded in the kitchen, making them jump apart. Can Opener was rummaging through the trashcan he’d knocked over. He backed slowly from the trashcan with one end of the blue velvet ribbon in his mouth. He’d managed to untie it from the vase.

“Clever.” She snickered. “I don’t enjoy saying I told you so , but I’m gonna go out on a limb and say Can Opener might not be as fashion blind as you think he is.”

“Prove it,” he scoffed.

“Gladly.” Can Opener eventually brought the ribbon to her. She rewarded him with chin scratches and head smooches. Then she used her ribbon-making skills to twist it into a new collar for him, complete with a bow tie in the front. “Voila!”

Johnny played along and helped her hold Can Opener down so she could swap out his old collar with the new one. As soon as they let him go, he strutted around the living room in it, making them burst out laughing.

“Well, I’ll be!” Can Opener proved to be a real ham when it came to preening and prancing. “I hereby yield to your superior wisdom on cat fashion.” Then he sobered. “Not to dwell on the negative, but the fact that your ex might’ve been involved in your accident is still rubbing me the wrong way.”

“Me, too.” And now Can Opener’s new collar and bow tie would be a constant reminder of it. “If he thinks this will scare me into rolling myself in bubble wrap, he’s sorely mistaken. Our best defense against whatever he’s planning next is to get right back to solving the case.”

“I second the motion.” Johnny glanced around the cozy cabin. “But not from here. He didn’t hesitate to walk right up to the front door last night. My fault for dropping the ball on getting that new security gate installed.”

“You tried.” Ashley hated that he was beating himself up for it. “You have no control over back orders.” Heart Lake was a small town. Things worked differently here.

“I could’ve shopped around and had the gate shipped from somewhere else.”

“And cut a local company out of the business? No thank you!” She wasn’t convinced a gate would’ve stopped Martin, anyway.

“You know what else bothers me?” His jaw clenched. “How’d he get past the other farm hands, cattle, and even Can Opener without attracting any attention?”

She agreed that was weird. “Nothing on the security cameras?”

“Nothing out of the ordinary. Just our own trucks coming and going. Because of your unexpected delivery, though,” he gestured at the rose stems spilling out of the trashcan, “I’m gonna have doorbell cameras installed on all the staff cabins, too. Should’ve already done it.”

“It’s okay, Johnny.” It seemed like the right time to remind him of that. “We’re going to get through this. Together,” she added softly.

“Yes, we are, babe.” He crouched down, trying to coax Can Opener closer. “Come here, boy. Even though our fingerprints are all over it, I should probably bag that bow tie as evidence.”

Can Opener danced out of reach every time he made a grab for him.

“He has style.” Ashley chuckled. “We may just have to let him wear the evidence.”

“Barn cat panache,” Johnny joked, abandoning his mission and returning to the sofa and taking a knee in front of her. “Speaking of panache, I have a big question to ask you.”

Her heart turned an aching cartwheel. Once upon a time, she’d longed to see Martin in the same position. Not that Johnny was getting ready to propose to her or anything.

“I know it may seem like I’m rushing things.” She’d never heard him sound so unsure of himself. “But you can’t remain alone in this cabin, Ash. Not with all the bad stuff going on. And I can’t ask you to move into the farmhouse with me without tying the knot. It wouldn’t be right.”

Her eyes felt like they were bugging out. “Tying the knot?”

“You heard me, babe.” He reached for her hands. “It’s the best solution I can come up with since I was already planning on convincing you to marry me someday. Not this soon, of course, but the danger you’re in feels like as good a reason as any to speed up the timeline.” Though his voice was teasing, his expression was earnest.

“Johnny,” she choked, gripping his fingers. “Are you seriously asking me to marry you?” The way he’d gone about it wasn’t the least bit romantic, but it was so Johnny-fied that it took her breath away.

“Yep.” He kissed her with his dark, melting gaze. “I love you, Ash, and there’s nothing I’d rather do than spend the rest of my life doing that, if it’s okay with you?”

She nodded, too overcome to put what she was feeling into words.

“I’m gonna need to hear you say it.”

She nodded again. “Yes,” she whispered.

“Thank you.” Without breaking eye contact, he cupped her face between his large, callused hands. Then he brought his mouth to hers.

One week later

I’m getting married today. Again.

Johnny honestly hadn’t seen this day coming. Ever. But he was thankful the good Lord had seen fit to come up with a new plan for his life. A new purpose. A new lifelong partnership.

Clint met him in the pastor’s office at the back of the church. “Thought I might find you here.” He closed the door behind him and leaned back against it.

Johnny stopped fiddling with the silver horseshoe cufflinks his bride-to-be had gifted him the night before. He felt bad that he and Clint hadn’t been able to make time for a sit-down before now, a mere thirty minutes before the ceremony would begin.

“Is everything okay?” He faced his brother-in-law. Soon-to-be former brother-in-law . His exchange of vows with Ashley would change that forever. It was the one part of their nuptials he was dreading.

Clint shrugged. “Yep.” Like Johnny, he was in jeans and boots. They were polished to a glassy shine, and his white dress shirt was starched and pressed to perfection. The only difference was that Johnny was wearing a brown leather vest over his dress shirt.

“Good.” There were so many things Johnny wanted to say, but it was difficult to find the right words. His heart was too full today.

Clint gave a gusty sigh and pushed away from the door. “We’re always gonna be brothers, if that’s why you’ve been acting weird around me.”

“That’s not…yeah, it is.” He spread his hands. “You and I…” He stopped, feeling at a loss for words. They’d been through so much together — thick and thin, rodeo dust and harrowing injuries, joy and tragedy. It was a miracle they’d survived, and they might not have done so without having each other to lean on.

“You and I,” Clint repeated with a determined gleam in his eyes, “will always be brothers. I don’t know how many times I’m gonna have to say it for you to believe it.” His words ended with a noisy oomph as Johnny delivered him a walloping bear hug. “That’s more like it,” he grunted, slapping him back between the shoulder blades. “Now go be happy.”

“Thanks.” Johnny’s eyes were damp when he stepped back.

“That’s not to say it’s been easy putting up with you,” Clint drawled with a devilish twinkle in his eyes. “Kind of glad you’re about to become someone else’s problem.”

Johnny belted out a laugh and dropped to a tackling stance.

“Huh-uh!” Clint backed away chuckling. “I don’t want to have to explain to your bride how you got blood all over your shirt.”

As if! “You really think you can take me, squirt?” Calling him squirt was a standing joke between them about their half inch difference in height. It was a nickname Johnny only used when he was trying to goad him into a wrestling match.

Clint’s eyes twinkled brighter. “I’m gonna answer that question another day. Consider it a wedding gift.”

“You’re on!” Just thinking about their future brawl was enough to put Johnny’s game face back on.

They shook hands, silently promising to finish what they’d started. Later. Then Clint shoved him toward the door. “You’d better hurry if you wanna beat Caro and me to the altar.”

Johnny skidded to a halt with his hand on the door handle. “Sounds like you didn’t stop with one kiss.”

“Nope.” Clint sounded smug.

“You and Caro, huh?” Johnny was still having trouble wrapping his head around that.

“Yep.”

“But she’s…” Johnny wasn’t sure how to continue.

“I know.”

On that mind-boggling note, he left the room and made his way to the altar.

The number of guests seated in front of him was astounding. The sanctuary was nearly full, which was a real head-scratcher since he’d only proposed to Ashley a week earlier.

“You’re welcome.” Clint, who’d followed him to the altar and remained glued to his side, nudged him with his shoulder. “I told Caro to send you the bill, but she says it’s her wedding gift to y’all.”

“She did all of this?” Johnny couldn’t believe it. There were ribbons and flowers everywhere, candles flickering, and live music playing. He glanced dazedly at the platform behind him where a pianist, two guitar players, and a violinist were gathered.

“She’s an events planner, bro.” Clint sounded proud enough to burst buttons off his shirt.

“I thought that was just—” Johnny stopped talking when the man seated at the piano nodded at him and launched into the opening chords of the wedding march.

Johnny nearly swallowed his wisdom teeth when Ashley appeared at the back of the sanctuary. There’d been no time to purchase a wedding dress and have it shipped all the way to Heart Lake. Yet there she was, walking down the aisle in a gown of ivory lace with a hem that swept the floor. Her auburn hair was piled loosely on top of her head, with lots of wispy ringlets against her temples and cheeks. He wanted nothing more than to cup her face and drag his fingers through them.

The middle-aged man with a receding hairline who was leading her down the aisle was Jeff Perkins. Her father. An electrician from Dallas. A man who’d been unable to make it to town before the day of the wedding. His jeans and boots, however, were a testament to just how attentive Caro had been about communicating the details to all members of the wedding party.

Mr. Perkins led Ashley to Johnny. “I’m Jeff Perkins, the guy you’re gonna have to deal with if you don’t make my daughter happy.” Though he kept his voice down, he sternly searched Johnny’s features.

“Dad!” Ashley blushed to the roots of her hair, while Clint choked back a laugh.

“I’ll hand you the gun, sir, if I fail to do exactly that,” Johnny promised and was rewarded by an answering glint of moisture in the man’s gaze. He wished he could’ve reached out to the guy before now. Between running a dairy farm, serving as a PI at Lonestar Security, and keeping his new fiancée safe, it had been impossible to add a visit to Dallas during their one-week engagement.

“Thank you.” Jeff Perkins reached out to clasp his shoulder before transferring Ashley’s hand to his arm.

The ceremony didn’t take long. After an opening prayer and a short scripture reading, they launched right into their exchange of vows.

The white-gold diamond solitaire and wedding band he’d purchased from a local jeweler was a little loose on Ashley. They’d have to get it resized. She presented him with a black sterling band in return.

The minister spoke a closing prayer, and it was over.

“I love you, Mrs. Cuba.” Johnny gave his bride a tender kiss, overwhelmed that God had seen fit to give him a second chance at happiness.

“I love you, too.” Ashley returned his kiss. Then she drew back. “Brace yourself. This is the part where you get to meet the rest of my family.”

The anxious light in her eyes told him she was genuinely worried about what came next. It was unfortunate. On the upside, if her stepmother and stepsister were as bad as she said they were, they’d be returning to Dallas soon.

A shrill cry of happiness alerted him to the fact that his mother was barreling their way. She sped past Ashley’s family to throw her arms around the newlyweds.

“Oh, Johnny!” She let out a weepy laugh. “You barely gave us time to catch a flight here.” To Ashley, she declared warmly, “I’m Annie Cuba. It’s wonderful to finally meet the woman who lassoed the heart of our favorite bull rider.” She shoved a handful of her curly dark hair behind one ear to get a better look at her new daughter-in-law.

“Her favorite dairy farmer,” Johnny interjected with a grin. “If I failed to mention it, we’ve got an extra cabin at the farm. You’re welcome to crash there.”

“Don’t mind if we do.” Johnny’s father joined their huddle. “I’m John Senior.” He was basically an older version of Johnny, so Ashley would’ve probably guessed who he was without the introduction. “Johnny’s been dropping hints about you, but we had no idea the wedding was this, well, imminent.” He shook her hand, grinning.

Johnny could tell his parents liked Ashley, and their acceptance of her was a good feeling. His mother had been shattered the day Cassandra and the baby died. Until this very moment, he hadn’t been sure how she would handle meeting his new bride.

His dad leaned closer to mutter for his ears alone, “I see God’s handiwork all over this marriage, son.”

“Me, too, sir.” Johnny was grateful for his words.

Clint elbowed his way into the mix for the next hug, announcing for all to hear that he and Johnny were still brothers.

“And you’re still our son.” Annie delivered a noisy kiss to his cheek that made everyone laugh.

“Johnny,” Ashley hissed after a while, tugging on his arm and nodding toward the trio of Perkins who’d made no attempt to approach them. “We need to…”

“Right.” He gently disengaged her from his exuberant family and walked arm-in-arm with her to her family. The differences between the two families were immediately apparent.

No hugging or cheerful banter ensued.

Jeff Perkins stepped forward first to pat Ashley on the shoulder and shake Johnny’s hand. “This is my wife, Darla.” He glanced soberly down at the petite woman standing by his side.

Darla was in a long navy dress with a heavily beribboned and flowered fascinator perched on her head. “It was awfully cheeky of you not to say a peep about this to your father during your last visit.” Her British accent was thick enough to cut, and the smile stretching her red-painted lips wasn’t mirrored in her eyes.

Ashley looked pained. “We weren’t engaged a week ago, ma’am.”

“Oo! You always were a dodgy one.” Her stepsister was a carbon copy of her mother, right down to her starchy accent and insincere smile. There were no forthcoming congratulations or well wishes from either of the women.

“This is Blaire.” Ashley’s voice was clipped.

“Her sister,” Blaire added, shooting Ashley a look of disapproval for keeping the introduction so short. “You must be the dairy farmer Jeff told us about on the drive here.”

“Yep.” Johnny gave her a hearty handshake, trying not to let her usage of her stepfather’s first name rub him the wrong way. Maybe she thought it made her sound sophisticated. To him, it came across as disrespectful.

Jeff Perkins seemed to retreat inside his own head after that, barely uttering more than monosyllables whenever his wife or stepdaughter solicited his input.

“There are plenty of dairy farms closer to Dallas, aren’t there, Jeff?” Blaire blabbed for a full five minutes about the perils of living in rural areas and how there were so many better opportunities in bigger cities.

Johnny glanced at his watch, not caring who noticed. He felt no compunction about pretending to enjoy the conversation of a woman who was going out of her way to insult what he did for a living.

“I couldn’t have been more gobsmacked to hear Martin was back on the market.” Blaire tipped her nose into the air. “He won’t stay there for long.”

Okay. We’re done here. “Time to greet our guests, babe.” Without another word to her obnoxious family, Johnny steered her away from their midst.

“Thanks,” Ashley murmured faintly. She tucked her hands around his arm as he led her up the aisle. There was a stairwell in the main foyer that led downstairs to the fellowship hall.

Caro had outdone herself again with a buffet line and feast of chicken-fried steak, mashed potatoes, and all the trimmings. She’d managed to rustle up a multi-tiered wedding cake as well.

Johnny sauntered in her direction with his bride to thank her. “This is amazing, Caro. Feel free to send me the bill.” He couldn’t have been more grateful.

“You’re welcome.” She gave him a sour look. “I told Clint to tell you it’s my gift to you.”

“He might’ve said something,” Johnny admitted, “but this is over the top.” He couldn’t imagine how much the food alone had set her back.

Caro merely rolled her eyes.

Ashley stepped forward to hug her. “We don’t know how you did it, but you pulled off our dream wedding.”

Caro sniffed. “You’re way too easy to please, sweetie.” But there was no guile in her voice.

“We didn’t want anything fancy,” Ashley said quickly. “This is perfect.”

Caro’s eyes glowed with pleasure. “I’m glad you like it.”

More than anything, Johnny was glad to see the two women were finally thawing out with each other.

Naturally, they snuck in a quick huddle about the case. Technically, Ashley started it, which made Johnny grin. That’s my girl!

“My stepsister said something about Martin being back on the market,” she confided in a low voice to Caro. “I’m not sure if that means he’s back at the law firm or what. It might not hurt to check.”

Caro’s lips tightened. “Consider it done.”

Ashley gave Johnny a sideways look. “Please don’t read anything into what I’m about to say next, but it struck me as odd the way Blaire kept dragging the conversation back to Martin.”

“How so?” Caro pressed.

“It was just a turn of phrase here and there, and my stepmother said something about how the three of them go way back.” Ashley shook her head. “It’s possible they were just trying to get under my skin, something they’re very good at doing. The only reason I’m mentioning it is because I wasn’t aware they’d met my ex before moving to Dallas.”

“I’ll look into it,” Caro promised. “You, on the other hand,” her voice grew firm, “don’t need to do anything besides be married for the next few days.”

It was in that moment that Johnny was finally able to picture her and Clint finding some sort of future together.

One week later

Due to the danger festering around them, Johnny didn’t think it would be wise to whisk Ashley away on a honeymoon just yet. He hoped she wasn’t too disappointed.

“I’ll make it up to you,” he promised. “Just as soon as we wrap up the case.”

“I know you will.” She slid her arms around his neck and rested her head on his shoulder. “All in God’s timing.”

They were standing on the back porch of the farmhouse, something they enjoyed doing every evening at sundown. There was something inherently peaceful about gazing over the acres of pasture that seemed to roll straight into the skyline. It was here that they came to spin dreams together about the future.

“I’m gonna screen in the back porch before the mosquitoes hatch.” It was the middle of March, so he needed to get cranking on the project soon. Clint had promised to help him.

“When are you going to find time for that?” Ashley snuggled closer to him.

“I’ll make time, babe.” There wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do for her. He nuzzled the soft skin against the side of her neck, adoring the way she fussed about his busy schedule. It had been a long time since he had someone in his life to worry about him like this.

“You never sleep,” she grumbled.

“That’s partly your fault,” he teased and felt her answering blush against his lips. The fact that they’d settled so quickly into a real marriage felt like one of the biggest miracles of all.

“You’re equally to blame.” She yanked a strand of hair on the back of his neck, making him snicker.

“So guilty.” He couldn’t have been happier about how compatible they were. They wanted the same things, including a family of their own. After losing his first wife in childbirth, though, he found himself teetering between hopeless longing and sheer terror over the thought of Ashley becoming pregnant.

She was tougher than she looked, though. If God saw fit to bless their marriage that way, he was confident she could handle it. All of it.

After a pause, she informed him quietly, “Caro called me right before you got back to the house.”

“Uh-oh.” He mentally braced himself, since Caro rarely seemed to have good news.

“My ex isn’t back at work. His law firm is in the process of severing his employment.”

Johnny raised his head. “Interesting.”

“Oh, that’s far from the most interesting part,” she sighed. “Remember how Blaire and Darla made it sound like they go way back with Martin?”

“Yep.”

“Well, they do go way back. They’re connection, of all things is?—”

“XAX,” he declared darkly. It was the only thing that made sense.

“Bingo.” It broke her heart that her father had inadvertently gotten himself caught up in this mess. “As it turns out, the X on either side of XAX stands for targeting Americans. They want to stamp us out of existence. Every last one of us. Though I don’t understand their twisted reasons, it has something to do with us being the melting pot of the world — a string of bloodlines they consider so impure that we don’t deserve to exist.”

“Ouch!” She was right about the twisted part.

“They’re a well-organized group that got their start with a federal grant to study the natural selection process. Martin, Darla, and Blaire were on the ground floor of the college research team — Martin and Blaire as students and Darla as one of the professors. It’s unclear at what point the group renamed themselves to XAX and degenerated into what it is today.”

“Well, that’s ironic.” He wasn’t sure what to make of it. “A government funding the seed money for the group trying to stamp them out of existence.”

“It’s like something straight from a horror movie, I know.” Ashley’s lips turned down dismally. “Using a genetically modified bioweapon to influence the process of natural selection is a contradiction unto itself.”

“Couldn’t have said it better. Good thing I married a smart woman.” His chest swelled with pride.

“One more thing before I kiss you for saying that.” A breathy chuckle eased out of her. “One XAX operative in particular has been elevated to the FBI’s most wanted list. They’re gathering resources as we speak to lop the head off the beast.”

“Glad to hear it.” He tapped his mouth. “Now lay one on me.”

Their idyllic evening was soon interrupted by another update on the case —one that required Johnny to drop everything and jet back to work. It involved another outbreak of salmonella in a town about a hundred miles south of them.

Ashley locked herself inside the farmhouse, waiting for the next update. The XAX operation was starting to feel bigger than her, bigger than all of them. If the head of the beast didn’t get lopped off soon, the beast might grow into something too big to stop.