Another gunshot filled the air. The blast, as well as the ringing in Ivy’s ears, drowned out Hance’s retelling of his efforts to transport a mirror for his barbershop on the back of his horse up Kenosha Pass from Denver.

Perched on the bench outside the house, she had half a mind to cross over to Jericho, rip the Colt from his hands, and topple the pyramid of cans he’d erected to use as target practice. When he’d returned from the construction work on the new inn, she hadn’t been sure if he’d noticed her sitting with Hance, who’d come courting, just as she’d invited him to earlier in the day.

Jericho hadn’t glanced her way. In fact, he’d disappeared into the barn, likely taking care of his horse. He strode out a short while later with a heap of cans in his arms. When he started setting up the tins between the house and barn, she hadn’t realized what he was doing, until too late. Until he’d taken aim at the top can and shot it off on the first try.

She’d realized then that not only had Jericho noticed her sitting with Hance, but he’d placed the target practice right next to them so he could keep his promise to Dylan to look after her.

Of course, Jericho’s target practice had drawn a crowd—Judd as well as both Ellie and Ty—giving Hance and her even less privacy because now Ellie was sitting on her lap and clapping and cheering at every can Jericho hit.

Hance hadn’t seemed to mind the noise or the intrusion. Leastways, it hadn’t stopped him from rambling on about himself.

“Yay, Jericho!” Ellie squealed and hopped up. At three and a half, the girl was still petite and hardly weighed more than a June bug.

Jericho rewarded the little girl with a grin—one of his rakish, crooked, heart-stopping grins. One Ivy hadn’t seen yet since his return. And now the sight of it unleashed a popping of powder burning in her stomach. His grin was a killer. It was a good thing he didn’t show it often.

His apologies were killers too. When he’d left Mr. Steele’s house and sat beside her in the church and told her he was sorry for everything, she’d been near to swooning. His apology had been about the sweetest thing she’d ever heard. Too bad he’d had to go and ruin the moment by bringing up his brotherly status in her life.

“We’re like family.” Just the remembrance of his words pestered her worse than a horde of horseflies.

As his gaze flickered over her, she snatched up Hance’s hand, wrapped her fingers securely around his, and settled them on the bench between them.