Brogan shook his head. “Delaying risks Eve,” he protested. “Wrap the case up; then play games with Doogan.”

Dawg shook his head in the negative, his expression as well as Rowdy’s and Natches’s turning grim as they watched him.

“I have Eve covered, but that won’t last forever,” Dawg informed him, his voice tight. “Get those packages in place, Brogan; then we’ll finish it.”

“And if Eve gets hurt while we’re fucking around with Doogan?” he snarled furiously. “What then, Dawg?”

“What if she gets hurt because our hands are fucking tied, or later one of the others is hurt because our hands were fucking tied or we didn’t know they were pulling an operation beneath our noses?” Natches sneered, his eyes, so like Eve’s, glittering in fury. “I don’t think so, Brogan. We’ve told you enough; get it fucking taken care of; then we can finish this.”

“If Doogan doesn’t cooperate? What then?” Brogan questioned harshly, beginning to see exactly where this was going.

“If he doesn’t want to play ball, then you have other connections,” Dawg stated knowingly. “Use them.

“My father,” Brogan surmised mockingly. “This is where it’s been going all along. You want me to go to JD and have it taken care of.” Brogan rarely called his father by anything other than “JD.” “John David” if he was pissed with him.

Son of a bitch, just what he needed.

“I want you to do whatever it takes for me to see to my family’s fucking protection. And if you care anything about Eve, then that’s all you should want, too,” Dawg retorted heatedly. “As long as DHS is using this county and the Mackays to do their dirty work, then we’re all at risk. And that includes Eve, her sisters, and her mother. And trust me, you think she’s pissed at me?” he warned with dark emphasis. “Then how will she feel if one of her baby sisters, or God forbid, her mother, who nearly died of a chemical infection trying to feed Eve and her sisters, or her brother and cousins who all but got on their knees and begged for your help.” Dawg grinned mockingly. “If any of us end up hurt because you didn’t go to daddy to ensure we were all protected, then how do you think she’s going to feel?”

Brogan stepped into the truck, slammed the door, and started the engine.

Throwing the three men one last bitter, furious look, he reversed the truck and whipped it to the side of the parking lot before pushing it into drive and hitting the gas. Gravel spewed as the tires bit into the unfinished parking area and the truck shot forward and sped from the cabin.

Folding his arms over his chest, Dawg frowned before sliding his dark sunglasses over his eyes and turning back to his cousins. They, too, were watching the truck speed away, their expressions brooding.

“Are we doing the right thing?” Natches murmured.

Dawg could only shake his head. “Timothy and Chaya are right, Natches. As long we’re alive and living here, DHS or some other American alphabet agency is going to play games with us for the simple fact that they know we love our homes, our families, and our country too much to stand back and just protect our own asses. And if they get the urge to demand more from us, they can always threaten our family’s freedom to ensure they get it. We have too much at stake and too much to lose not to do this now, while we have the chance.”

“And you really think Brogan will ensure that it happens?” Rowdy muttered, unconvinced.

“He ensured that he had his own agreement and compensatory package before ever agreeing to work with Timothy Cranston and Chatham Doogan.” He shrugged. “And I know Director Bryce. He wants the gold. He has no idea it’s been found, and that’s been okay until now, because he wants those traitors more. They’ve been a thorn in his side since before DHS existed. I think this is the best chance we have.”

“Think Eve’s going to forgive you for playing these games with her?” Natches asked quietly, compassionately. “You should have talked to us, cuz. Told us what was going on. We work better together, remember?”

Dawg turned away from his cousin’s too-perceptive gaze to stare into the beauty of the mountains for one long moment. When he turned back, he took a shaky breath and said, “If she can’t forgive me, she’ll need you and Rowdy. I couldn’t chance her hating all of us. She’s too much of a Mackay, Natches. Too much pride, too much spirit and fire, and when she hurts, she hurts too deep. I didn’t want her hurting and feeling she didn’t have one of us to come to.”

Natches breathed out roughly and gave his head a hard shake.

“It doesn’t work that way, Dawg.” It was Rowdy that chastised him quietly. “She wouldn’t come to us. She’ll go to our wives. And that’s okay, because that’s what makes them strong. They’ll always have each other, and they’ll never be alone if the unthinkable ever happens and we’re not there anymore. And we have each other, Dawg. Our ladies take care of home and hearth, our babies and our hearts. We keep their lives, their families, friends, and homes safe. We do that together. No more hiding things, you got that?”

“I got that.” He gave a hard, sharp nod of his head.

“What about Eve, Dawg?” Natches asked again.

Dawg knew he wasn’t repeating his earlier question, but that earlier question was all Dawg could consider.

Would Eve forgive him?

Dawg’s lips tightened. Shaking his head, he strode to the dual-cab pickup he’d driven in, and stepped into the driver’s seat without answering.

He didn’t have an answer because he simply didn’t know.

What did he know?

If it were him, he knew he wouldn’t forgive—no matter the reason, the explanation, or the circumstances. He wouldn’t want platitudes and promises of protection. He’d want the trust and the ability to choose his own path and his own protection. And he knew Eve was often far too much like him and his cousins, just as the other girls were.

There was a chance, a very good chance, that she might never forgive any of them.

SIXTEEN

A week later, Eve entered the backyard of Ray and Maria Mackay’s farmhouse and stared around at the gathering of family, relations, and scattered friends.

This year there were nearly a hundred family members who had confirmed attendance at the Mackay family reunion, and it looked as though every one of them had shown up.

The reunion was a yearly endeavor Ray and Maria—Grandpa Ray and Grandma Maria—had begun insisting on the year Rowdy and Kelly had become engaged. As he had explained it to his son and nephews, as children came, they would need traditions. And his “boys”—who comprised his own son as well as his two nephews—well, their children deserved a far better life than their father had had.

Not that Rowdy’s life had been too hard, as Eve heard it. He’d had Ray, and then, once Ray had married Maria, he’d had a mother. The stories she’d heard of Rowdy’s mother had never been pleasant, but there was no doubt Maria had loved Ray’s son.

Just as Ray had taken her daughter, Kelly, in and loved her.

Eve had always found it amusing that Rowdy and Kelly had lived in the same house for so many years and then ended up married.

But Grandpa Ray had bragged that his boy, his Rowdy, hadn’t been base or without honor. When his son had realized he was feeling things for Kelly, Rowdy had moved out. And even before he’d realized he was falling in love with her, Rowdy had made certain he’d taken care of her, his father bragged.

Once Rowdy and Kelly became engaged, Ray had begun the family reunions, even though the first “reunions” were only him, Maria, Kelly, Rowdy, Dawg, and Natches.

He said kids needed traditions. They needed to know and understand family.