Page 4 of Bravo

“I wish I could give more.”

“You don’t need to pay me at all,” I tell him. We work on a pay-as-you-can system, wanting to make sure no one feels like our help is out of reach.

“I want to. I know you said it wasn’t necessary, but I want you to keep doing this. I want you to keep bringing little girls home to their parents.” His eyes fill again, and he shoves the check into my hands. “Please. It’s not much. But it can help.”

Because I sense he won’t take no for an answer, I accept the offering. “Thank you, William.”

“Thank you,” he replies. “You gave us our entire world back. And for that, we’ll never be able to repay you.”

CHAPTER 2

BRADYN

Exhausted and more than ready for a hot shower and a good night’s sleep, I guide my truck up the long drive to the place I’ve spent most of my life. Given the early January climate, the large magnolia trees lining the drive are bare, but I can picture them as they were when I left in late October—lush and green, and caging over the road like a protective archway guiding me in.

Man, it’s good to be home.

“You ready, boy?” I ask Bravo, who’s currently sitting in the passenger seat, peering out the window, clearly ready to get out and run. He glances over at me, big brown eyes excited, tongue hanging out the side of his mouth. His tail starts wagging, thumping happily against the seat. I laugh. “Me, too, boy.” We missed Thanksgiving, Christmas, and the New Year celebration, but missing those is such a small price to pay for getting those girls and young women home where they belong.

Three months well spent, though I am more than ready for a meal that didn’t come premade in a sealed pack. My cell rings, so I hit the button on my steering wheel to answer it hands-free. “Hunt.”

“You make it home?” Silas sounds as exhausted as I feel.

“Just pulling in now. How’s Bianca?”

“She’s a rock as always. Still no baby, but we’re thinking it could be anytime now.”

“Then why are you wasting time on me?”

He chuckles. “Just wanted to make sure you made it home okay.”

“I did, thanks for checking. And thanks for stepping in on the assist. I really appreciate it.”

“No problem. You did most of the work. I just showed up.”

“You showed up,” I tell him. “So thanks.”

“Well, anytime. It’s not like you haven’t ever shown up for me before.”

“Fair enough.” I laugh. “Tell Bianca I said good luck.”

“Will do. I’ll let you know when the baby arrives.”

“I’m counting on it. Talk to you soon.”

“Talk soon.”

The call ends right as I’m pulling into the drive of my two-story farmhouse. I put the truck into Park and stare out the windshield at the wraparound porch with the swing I hung last spring, the white brick siding, and the large picture window I enjoy standing in front of when the weather isn’t quite good enough to be out on the porch first thing in the morning.

“Home sweet home,” I mutter to myself then grab my duffel and call Bravo out of the truck. He jumps out of the driver’s side then takes off toward the back of the house before racing back toward me. Laughing, I unlock the door and step inside.

I’m greeted with the heady scents of cinnamon and clove, thanks to the oil diffuser currently spitting out steam on my counter. The plants on my shelves all look perfectly healthy, thanks to my mom coming to water for me while I was away. She’s clearly been cleaning, too, since the coffee mug I’d rinsed out and set upside down on the drying rack next to the sink is nowhere to be seen.

“Oh, Mom.”

The porch creaks behind me. “Do I hear my name?”

I turn as Ruth Hunt rushes into the house wearing a white dress with lavender flowers printed all over it and a heavy black jacket. “Only in appreciation,” I reply then drop my bag and wrap my arms around her. We get our height from our father, so my mom’s head barely reaches my chest, but I drop my head and breathe in her familiar floral perfume.

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