He’d been raised on the Diamond Bar, a big cattle ranch three hours northwest of Denver, but even as a kid, he’d wanted a different future. By the time their parents were gone, Edge and Gage had both been happy to let Kade run the ranch, a place their oldest brother dearly loved.

As Edge settled in the car, he returned his attention to Skye. “You were talking to the woman next to you. Learn anything useful?”

“It was kind of a strange conversation.” Sky clicked her seat belt in place. “Dora—that was her name—said no one knows much about the group. They’re a secretive bunch, according to Dora. They only come to town for groceries, and the women never come without the men.”

“The guy next to me said basically the same thing, though he didn’t mention any men. Seemed more interested in the women, said the young ones were pretty.”

“Like Callie,” Skye said. “Dora told me she feels sorry for the women who live out there. Says the husbands completely dominate them. According to Henson, they’re only following what’s written in the Bible, that a man is supposed to be the head of the family, but Dora says from what she’s heard, they carry it to the extreme.”

“This is getting more and more interesting,” Edge said as he drove out of the lot. “I can’t wait to meet Daniel Henson.”

From what he’d seen on Google Maps, the property was off the highway, several miles out of town down a poorly maintained dirt road. Once they approached the tall wrought-iron gate, Edge could see the roof of a building with a steeple on top just over a rise. He pulled to a stop in front of the gate, which was next to a hip-roofed beige stucco gatehouse.

A big, thick-chested man walked out of the narrow building and came outside the compound through a smaller gate on the side of the main entrance. Edge buzzed down his window as the guard approached.

“Can I help you?” He was in his mid-thirties, with short red hair and a full red beard. Dressed in a khaki shirt, jeans, and high-topped, rough-out leather boots, he wore a sidearm clipped to his belt. Edge was suddenly glad he had brought his own weapons. Not that he traveled far without them.

“We’d like to talk to Callie Delaney,” Edge said. “She’s one of the women who lives here.”

The red-bearded man straightened. “You’ll need to speak to Reverend Henson about that, but the reverend ain’t here. You’ll have to come back tomorrow.”

Skye leaned across Edge to speak to the guard through the open window. Strands of her hair brushed his cheek, and the scent of roses drifted over him. His groin tightened.

“We’ve driven all the way from Denver,” Skye said. “Maybe you could ask Callie to come to the gate and we could speak to her here.”

“Not my call. Like I said, you need to talk to the reverend.” He didn’t say more, and Skye ducked back to her side of the car. Edge didn’t miss her softly muttered curse.