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meet your family. In fact, I think you’re entitled to it. And to have the chance to get to know them. To learn about where you come from.”

“That’s just it. I was hoping to find my roots. But my roots aren’t there in that house. I thought I’d find them there, but I didn’t. I found a man’s home, his family, but not mine. Not really.”

He knocked back some more whiskey, and continued. “I did a lot of thinking about that on the ride out from the ranch. Josh, he was raised by the old man. That house is his home, and has been for as long as he can probably remember. Me, I’m not even from Montana. When I think of where I’m from, it’s Arizona, New Mexico, Texas. I wasn’t raised by the old man. I was raised by –,” he had been about to say Sam Patterson, but caught himself before the words could escape. “By someone else.”

“You share blood with those people. Except for Aunt Ginny, but that won’t matter to her.”

“Yeah. She was the first to accept me. She believed my story before I even had a chance to tell it. She had it figured out before you and I even arrived that night.”

“Yep. She’s quite a woman. The glue that holds the family together, really, since the death of Johnny’s wife.”

“And you’re right, I do share blood with the old man, and Josh and Bree. But family ain’t about blood. It’s about love. It’s about being part of each other’s lives. Me, I’m just a stranger, an outsider, who happens to also have McCabe blood. They didn’t ask for me to come crashing in on their lives.”

Hunter nodded, and there was a smile in his eyes. “So, what are you gonna do now?”

Dusty shrugged. “I don’t really know. Maybe head on out to Oregon. There’s a girl waiting for me there, and I don’t want to keep her waiting too long. Or maybe try to seriously talk you into that job as bartender and cook.”

Hunter knocked back his drink, emptying his glass, and refilled it. “Well, whatever you decide, you don’t strike me as the kind who would leave a job unfinished. Them riders are still out there in the mountains, and if they decide to hit the McCabe ranch, I plan to be right there shooting back at ‘em. And maybe you can’t call those people family, but they are blood, even Josh, and you know more about tactical warfare than anyone I ever met. Except for maybe the old man himself. You ain’t said much about your background, but I bet you’ve got a hell of a story to tell, and I hope to hear it someday. Maybe on a cold winter night, sitting around a wood stove with a bottle of whiskey. But in the meantime, we’ve got a job to do. Let’s ride back, and hold off any long-term decisions until them raiders are taken care of.”

Dusty nodded. “All right. I’m with you.”

Johnny McCabe swung out of the saddle in front of the stable, and was giving the rein a couple wraps about the hitching rail as Josh approached from the hose, Dusty’s Peacemaker tucked into the front of his gunbelt.

“Is Fred back yet?” Pa asked. “Thunder needs a good rubdown. We covered a lot of miles today.”

Josh shook his head. “I’ll take care of him. Why don’t you go in and have supper. I just finished.”

“Doesn’t the family eat together anymore?”

“Aunt Ginny said there’s too much going on for us to worry about that.”

Pa nodded. “We’re going to have tight security every night, like this was a military camp. I’m going to want guards posted all night to warn us should riders approach, and I want them posted by day, too. In the morning, I’ll ride out again. We’ve got to keep an eye on them. Try to guess their number and maybe even figure when they plan to strike, by their movements throughout the ridges, camp placement and such things.”

“No,” Josh said. “I think I should go. You’ll be needed here, if they should decided to attack during the day. You’re our leader. I’m more expendable than you are.”

Johnny was about to protest – Josh was not in any way expendable. Yet, he couldn’t deny his son was right. The leader should be in camp should the raiders strike.

It was then Johnny allowed himself to fully notice the pistol tucked into Josh’s belt. “That’s Dusty’s gun, isn’t it?”

Josh nodded.

“Where is he?”

“He’s gone, Pa, and he ain’t coming back.” Josh told his father about the fight.

“Did he actually admit to riding with them?”

“No, but he didn’t deny it, either.”

“Well,” Johnny scratched his chin. “If that’s the situation, then I guess you took care of it. I will say I’m a little disappointed, though.”

“Why? I say, good riddance to him.”

“That’s because he’s not your son. I should have been there for him, the way I was for you. I’m no less his father than I am yours or Bree’s or Jack’s. I was kind of hoping that, well, maybe I could get to know him, and maybe undo some of the damage.”

Pa turned and started for the house. “You’re a good man, Josh. It’s good to know I can count on you.”

Josh couldn’t help but smile. And yet, he also couldn’t help but notice a weariness in Pa’s step, like each foot was unusually heavy.

Josh realized he had been thinking entirely about how Dusty’s sudden appearance affected him, but he had never given any thought to Pa’s feelings. After all, Josh thought, how would he himself feel if he was in Pa’s place?

He reached for Thunder’s rein, to lead the stallion into the stable, when one of the men called out, “Riders comin’!”

Josh looked out toward the meadow that stretched away northward across the valley floor. Pa had stopped in midstride between the stable and the house, and was also looking. Josh found he had to squint against the sun,

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