I’m going to unwrap your arm today.” Molly remembered all her high-minded talk of being on her own, taking over the school, living independently.

Six weeks later, here she still was with the Hunt clan. On the RHR.

Everyone else spent time working the ranch; even Kevin was showing some skill at being a cowboy. And Cheyenne in particular was having trouble trusting her cowhands. The whole group of them seemed to be working hard and settling in.

Except her.

It’d taken some talking, but Falcon had agreed to live in the house. He couldn’t stay forever, and no one believed he would. He talked of a small cabin in the woods, and Cheyenne talked of the house her parents had lived in before her pa had died.

But with Wyatt laid up, Kevin and Win in the ramrod’s house, and Cheyenne needing all the help she could get to take up all the work left by Wyatt and their betraying cowhands, there’d been no time to move out.

They’d had a cattle drive, and Falcon had gone along with Cheyenne. Andy too. Kevin and Win had stayed around. Because it was improper for Molly to stay in the house alone with Wyatt, Kevin and Win had moved in while everyone else was gone.

Molly and Kevin had a chance to talk. Enough to make Molly worry about intruding on his new marriage. She and Win had formed a friendliness that Molly had trouble turning into a friendship. It was a small distinction, but Molly knew the difference. What’s more, it was her fault, and she knew it was rooted in the loss of Kevin as her best friend.

The cattle drive was over and done. The rustler business was behind them. They’d never gotten a satisfactory answer to who shot Wyatt, but they hoped, because there’d been no more trouble, that it had been one of the rustlers who was dead.

Falcon wanted to get moved before snowfall, which Molly understood came early in the highlands of Wyoming, early and deep.

Wyatt interrupted Molly’s thoughts. “The wrap is coming off? You’re not just saying that so you can laugh at me later when I get my hopes up?”

Molly smiled. “No, the pain seems to be gone, and six weeks is long enough for the bone to knit by my reckoning.”

Wyatt, sitting up to the kitchen table, sighed. “I can’t believe I missed the cattle drive. I haven’t done that since I was old enough to sit on a horse. Might’ve been before that. I remember Ma telling a story of carting me along on her lap when I was about five months old. Nope, I’ve never missed one until now.”

He glared at her.

“Don’t look at me. I didn’t shoot you.”

“You’re the one who poisoned the others against letting me go.”