As though recognizing Ivy’s resistance, Wyatt pinned another gaze on his sister, this one with his brows furrowed. Wyatt wasn’t a strict disciplinarian like Flynn and always had trouble keeping control of Ivy. Her participation in the competitions today was proof enough of that.

Ivy started to busy herself again. “Jericho might like town, where he won’t be tempted to butt into other people’s business.”

Wyatt palmed the back of his neck again, his expression confused, almost comically so.

“Ain’t that right, Jericho?” Ivy didn’t pause in her cleanup.

Was she hoping he’d refuse to stay at Healing Springs for fear he might tattle on her for pretending to be Buster Bliss? Or was she sneaking around doing other things she shouldn’t be? Things she was afraid he’d discover if he stayed on?

“Actually, I like butting into other people’s business, especially when they’re involved in deception.”

Ivy started toward the kitchen and shot him a glare filled with warning.

Jericho forced his gaze to Wyatt. “Thank you, Wyatt. I accept your offer.”

Wyatt said something else that Jericho let go in one ear and out the other, his attention too fixed upon Ivy’s stiff shoulders and remembering what those shoulders had looked like bare in the moonlight.

As soon as he stepped outside and closed the door behind him, he released a pent-up breath and stared at the starry host. He was as tight as a nail driven high into a horseshoe. What had he been thinking to decide to stay? Such a move had been impulsive and totally out of character for him.

Who was turning into the idiot now?

With a shake of his head, he started toward the ranch-hand cabins.

After starting at the Pinkerton Agency shortly after his return to Chicago, he’d solved several important cases within the first few months. He’d realized what everyone else at the agency had—he was a good detective. And he liked the work. Much more than he’d ever thought possible.

With the Department of Justice possibly offering the Pinkerton Agency a contract for tracking down the hardest federal criminals, the agency had given him this job in Colorado to prove to the DOJ that their detectives were the best. Everyone was counting on him to help the agency get the lucrative and prestigious deal.

He’d stay a night or two at most with the McQuaids, then he’d focus on his mission, one that required all his wits and then some. He didn’t need any distractions. And he certainly didn’t want to put anyone else in danger on account of his work.

His dad had done that, and look what had happened to his mom. One of the criminals Dad had been tracking had kidnapped and killed her in retaliation. And his dad had been a wreck ever since.