“Go round the side, Dylan,” Jack said as they drove up to the lodge. Pitched roof, massive glass windows, and several floors high. It had wings left and right, and an equally impressive beige stone front entrance. Huge lights lit the grounds and building. He’d been impressed when he came for a meal with Charlie and hadn’t changed his opinion since.

“Impressive,” Dylan said as he tracked right, following Jack’s directions.

“Yeah, some people were opposed, but it’s been nothing but good for Ryker having the lodge here,” Joe said.

“Let me guess, my mom was one of the people who opposed?”

The silence in the car gave Dylan his answer. He sighed, because there wasn’t much else he could say.

They got out and headed up a set of stone steps and in through a glass door. A pitched roof gave the room a feeling of space, and a fire roared in the stone hearth, making it welcoming.

Ted Hosking, the lodge’s owner, stood talking to a man Dylan didn’t know and Fin Hudson. The talk stopped as he and the Trainers walked in.

“Well hell, you got him here. Come on in, city boy, I need new blood to fleece,” Fin drawled, coming forward to shake Dylan’s hand.

“You think so, do you?”

“I’ll reserve judgment till I’ve seen you play. You know everyone but this idiot. Sheriff Cubby Hawker, this is Dylan Howard.”

The man was big, with rust-colored hair, and tanned skin. He had that vital look fit people had, and a pair of intense blue eyes.

“Cubby’s from Lake Howling, Oregon. He’s a friend of Fin’s. We met in police academy.”

“You went to police academy?” Dylan asked the ranger.

He shrugged. “Turns out I’m not that good at following rules.”

“Amen,” Cubby said, raising his beer.

“Cubby’s here scouting out a place for his bachelor party.”

“Long way to go for a bachelor party.” Dylan accepted the beer Joe handed him.

“My girl is going to Vegas, so I figure I got some wiggle room there,” the sheriff said with a slow smile.

“He has these rich friends too, who can fly him most places. Texans,” Fin added. “We’re hoping they’ll come to the lodge so we can all crash the party.”

The sheriff just smiled. Dylan had feeling he was a man who only spoke when he had something to say.

“Okay, so we’re done with the chitchat. Now grab a drink and let’s get playing,” Ted said.

Everyone was dressed in variations of casual, from chinos to jeans, sweaters, and button-down shirts. Music played softly from a speaker system Dylan had yet to locate. The entire setting was conducive for relaxing and enjoying the occasion; not easy when he wasn’t sure if his family was under threat or not.