She lifted a curious brow and took a small bite of her burger.

“My mother has been married four times, my father was married three times before his death, which was premature. That gives me lots of half brothers and sisters and stepbrothers and -sisters, many of whom have been married a couple of times or more. It probably has us all screwed up, but the thing that really works on me is what it does to kids—it can make kids feel so bad about themselves. I totally understand there are times it just can’t be avoided and the separated parents have to work really hard to be sure their kids get through the rough patch of divorce, but my parents weren’t real concerned about the kids. They were always worried about who they’d end up with next. And we always wondered, too. There’s just no reason to put kids through that.”

She leaned left to check the boys on the play stuff, then leaned back and tilted her head at him, listening. He took that to mean he should continue.

“I was my mother’s third child by her third husband, my dad’s first and only child by his second wife. Do the math, by the time I came along my folks had five marriages between them. If they can’t hold a marriage together, make relationships work, I can’t figure out why they kept having kids, but they did. Or maybe they could have concentrated on parenting the ones they already had before moving on, be sure they’re not completely traumatized? Makes sense to me…because it wasn’t just new stepmothers and stepfathers, but also quite a few potential stepmothers and stepfathers who lived with us, then disappeared.

“Now my best friend, Lang, he’s been married eleven years and has five kids and you can tell when you look at those kids that he and Sue Ann have it together, that they have a solid marriage and the kids feel safe. The kids are normal—smart, happy, fun kids.”

She took another bite. A sip of her drink.

“What I think is behind that is that they know their strengths and weaknesses, and if I come from a family with relationship and commitment problems, long-term problems, and if I know how much it can potentially upset the kids, I shouldn’t walk that path. I’m crazy about kids, but this might be some DNA thing in our family—maybe we just can’t help it. Maybe it’s a curse—like eons ago some Childress pissed off a witch. Who knows why? My buddy Lang reminded me that I told him a long time ago, when we were in college, that most of the people in my family were so self-centered and short-sighted that when they get a little hungry they buy a restaurant.”

She took another sip.

He chuckled. “It’s only in the marriage and family arena where I think I might have the curse. I have good work and business relationships. Lang has been my best friend for over fifteen years. But the kind of background I have—it just doesn’t seem worth the risk to attempt the marriage and family thing. So, you should understand, Katie—that’s why I never date women with children.”

She lifted her chin and both brows, as if surprised to hear that. She took a small bite and retired the last quarter of her Big Mac, apparently thinking of all he had said while she chewed and swallowed. And then she leaned toward him, looked him in the eye and said, “You call this a date?”

And Dylan laughed so suddenly, he almost choked on his cola.

When Katie pulled up to the school where Dylan’s bike waited, she recognized her brother’s truck. He was with his boss, Paul, unloading what looked like logs. “Huh, wonder what he’s doing.”

“You going to ask?” Dylan wondered.

“Nah. I’ll call him later. Jump out so I can get these heathens home and in the shower.”

“Done,” he said, opening the door.

“Tell Dylan thank you, boys!”

“We’ll do it again sometime,” Dylan said, leaping out of her big SUV. She hadn’t even let him drive back to Virgin River. He chuckled. She might have some control issues. It reminded him of Sue Ann…

After he’d watched Katie’s SUV disappear out of town, he turned to see that Paul and Conner were standing there, staring at him. “Hey,” Dylan said by way of greeting. “What’s doing?”

“Play set,” Paul said, dropping a post onto a pile of wood. “Bars, swing, slide, jungle gym, that sort of stuff. We went over to Eureka to pick it up, but we’re going to be out of daylight soon so we’ll assemble it in the morning, before work. Early.”

“What’s early?” Dylan asked.

“Five or so. We like to get to the real job by seven, if possible.”

“I can help with that,” Dylan said.

“That’s nice, but we understand, you have no stake in it,” Paul said.

“I also have nothing more important to do. I’m not on the clock right now. Besides, that’s the way things work in my town, too. You know.”

Paul dragged off his hat, one of his gloves, and ran a hand over the top of his head. “What kind of work do you do, Dylan?” After Dylan explained, Paul said, “Too bad. I have some part-time work available in building. But experience is required.”

“I built my grandmother a coffee table in high school,” Dylan said. “A really ugly coffee table,” he added with a laugh. “But I’m great with an engine. I’ll show up here early and you can check out my building ability. You’ll probably be sorry I offered to help.”

It didn’t escape Dylan’s notice that Conner hadn’t said a word. He scowled a little and seemed to study Dylan. Finally he asked, “You dating my sister?”

He couldn’t help it, it made him laugh outright. “Not according to her,” he said. Then he went for his bike. He’d let Conner ask his sister that question when she checked in with him later. He kind of wished he could hear her answer, though he suspected it would be unflattering. Women were usually kind of jazzed to date him. Not this one, apparently.

As he drove back to his little cabin, he thought hard about the fact that this was an entirely new experience for him—Katie Malone could take him or leave him. Even though Dylan never played the movie star card, he was accustomed to the women being a little more…motivated.

Back at the Riordan cabins at dusk, Luke was starting a fire in the pit. After parking the bike, Dylan walked down to the fire. “Is this a nightly tradition?”

“Only on cool nights when Shelby isn’t working,” Luke said. “She’s getting the baby settled. How about a beer?”

“I could be talked into that. What I’d really like is to hear about the Black Hawk—your training and some of the stuff you did.”

Luke grinned. “I did some war, buddy. Including Mogadishu.” And then he went for the beer.

Luke knew what Dylan and his buddies did for a living, but he didn’t know the details. Nor did he know the company was Dylan’s and it was struggling. He was more than happy to swap stories over a couple of beers. While Dylan wanted to know all about a career in a war chopper, to his surprise Luke was very interested in flying charters and impressed to learn that Dylan had type ratings in several aircraft. They talked through a couple of beers before they killed the fire.

He set his phone alarm for 4:30 a.m., which would give him plenty of time to brew a little coffee before heading to town, but he was wide-awake at four. That put him in Virgin River just after four-thirty. He took a look at the stack of play-set parts. There were no plans, of course. Likely Paul would bring them later, but it seemed pretty straightforward—four A-frames that would be joined by top bars, to which ladders, slides, rings and other stuff could be added. So he got to work on that.

It wasn’t until Conner pulled up in his truck that Dylan realized he’d made it to the school early deliberately. He might not have planned it, but he woke up ahead of the alarm, ready to go, anxious to get there ahead of the other men.

He stood from the crouch where he was piecing together the A-frames to greet Conner, who was wearing the same grumpy face. “Good morning,” Dylan tried. Conner merely nodded. “I didn’t have any plans, but I think it’s pretty obvious how this fits together so I got started.” Conner just went to the tool chest in his truck bed and pulled out a smaller, more portable tool chest and carried it to where Dylan had been working. “I said good morning,” Dylan repeated.

Conner glowered at him. “And I said—” He dropped his chin in a nod.

Something from his childhood came back and he said, “I hope your face doesn’t freeze that way.” When that made Conner’s expression slightly more fierce, Dylan couldn’t help but laugh. “Come on, man. Relax. I took them to McDonald’s. And I’m only going to be around a couple more days.”

“Why are you around?” Conner asked.

“I’m checking out the area and waiting for a call from L.A. about a possible job. After that, I’m headed home. Of all the people I’ve met around here, you’re the only one who’s been unfriendly!”

“I’m probably the only one with a little sister,” he said. Conner pulled out a battery-operated screwdriver, the baby version of a torque. “Tighten up those screws with this,” he said, handing it to Dylan.

“You mean I got this right?” he asked, accepting the screwdriver.

“Not exactly brain surgery,” Conner said.

“You know, I’d be a lot nicer to you if you were trying to learn to fly.”

“You teach flying?” Conner asked.

“I’m a flight instructor, yeah. Among other things aviation. It’s what I do.”

“In Montana,” Conner seemed to want to confirm.

“You can start timing me,” Dylan said. “I should be a memory in a couple of days because I do have things to do.”

“Okay, sorry,” Conner said, but he didn’t look all that sorry. “I’m Katie’s only family and I worry about her sometimes.”

“Well, from what I saw, she can take care of herself.” And then he turned and proceeded to tighten the screws.

It was only moments before some others showed up. Jack had a big thermos of coffee and a box of doughnuts in the back of his truck. “Hey,” he said, all grins as he stuck his hand out to Dylan. Paul was right behind him and then, to his surprise, Luke followed. They all stood around the back of Jack’s truck with coffee and doughnuts for about fifteen minutes and it was confirmed—the only grump in the crowd turned out to be Conner, who kept looking at him suspiciously. As if he was going to kidnap Katie.

Dylan tried to imagine what Conner was so worried about. That Dylan would hurt Katie? Oh, he hoped not. If he just spent a couple more days here, that shouldn’t happen. Not unless Katie was one of those weepy, wimpy, clingy girls who got all in after a trip to McDonald’s. The Katie he’d experienced was not that girl. If he got a few more kisses out of her before he left, that shouldn’t do any harm and he wouldn’t complain.

The men nearly finished the work on the jungle gym and swing set by seven-thirty. It was time for Paul and Conner to head for work. Jack had to get back to the bar to serve breakfast. Dylan volunteered to hang all the equipment—swings, rings, et cetera—and rope off the play set so that it wouldn’t be used this first day. They had anchored it in quick drying cement around the posts and while it would probably hold just fine if a bunch of little ankle biters started wiggling it, it was guaranteed to hold if they gave it another twenty-four hours.

His good deed paid off. Right around 9:00 a.m. Katie showed up with the twins. She seemed completely surprised to see him there and while the boys rushed into the building, she went to Dylan.

“What are you doing here?”

He indicated the play set. “I offered to help with that and they took me up on it.”

“That’s pretty nice of you,” she said. “For a guy who is just passing through.”

“I’m pretty nice,” he confirmed. “What’s on your agenda today?”

“Not sure,” she said. “I thought about going into Fortuna and looking around while the boys are held hostage. I could go as far as Eureka,” she added with a grin.

“Ever been on a motorcycle?” he asked.

“Of course I’ve been on a motorcycle. I secretly dated a boy with a bike in high school.”

“Secretly?”

“I was not allowed on the back of a motorcycle or in the bed of a pickup truck. I beat the odds.” Then she grinned again.

That grin of hers was completely irresistible. It made him want to grab her right here in front of the new elementary school. “If I were going to be around when the boys were sixteen, I’d tell.”

“I’m not worried,” she said confidently. He’d be gone before they were five and a half. “You won’t be.”

He didn’t like the way she said that, but he shook it off. Ignored it. After all, he had already said he was hanging out for a few days and then would have to get going, so it was hardly a psychic prediction. “I have an idea. I have a rider’s helmet at the cabin where I’m staying. Follow me out there. You can leave the car and I’ll take you to breakfast, then for a ride.”

“I don’t know.... Think that’s a good idea?”

“Nervous?” he asked with a lift of his eyebrow and a sly smile.

“The roads around here are kind of freaky,” she said. “But worried about you?” She shook her head. “You don’t scare me. I think I scare you!”

“You shouldn’t do that, Katie. Set up a challenge like that.” He stepped back. “Follow me.”

“Okay,” she said. “I don’t have anything better to do.”