Pauline Lafont stood at the front door, her hands on her hips, a stern look on her face as he came limping up. “I hear you went chargin’ to Saria’s rescue and got yourself in a bit of trouble,” she greeted.

Drake sighed. “News travels fast around here.”

Pauline stepped aside to allow him entrance. Evan, already in the room, stood just to the right of the large living area, gun loose but ready in his hands. His gaze met Drake’s over the top of Pauline’s head and flicked to his left, toward the corner Drake didn’t have a visu on. His hand signed subtly. Pauline was not alone. Drake forced his body to straighten and he stepped just a little ahead of Saria, sweeping her back with one arm, signaling Jerico with another subtle hand movement as he did so.

Saria didn’t protest, nor make a big deal out of it. He loved that about her. She had a measure of trust in him he wasn’t altogether certain he deserved yet, but he was determined to live up to it.

“He definitely has heroic tendencies, Miss Pauline,” Saria chattered, as if Drake just hadn’t signaled possible danger.

She’d read him, he knew she had, but she didn’t miss a beat. His heart swelled with pride. The more he was around her, the more he knew absolutely that she was the one. She would stand with him, no matter the danger, or the hard times. Saria Boudreaux was the kind of woman a man kept forever.

He stepped past Pauline, already turning to face whoever was hidden behind the corner. The scent of blood and sweat hit him immediately, providing identification. Amos Jeanmard lay on the sofa, an ice pack pressed to one cheek, his chest heavily bandaged. He didn’t bother to try to get up, obviously very conscious of Evan’s weapon. The barrel was down, but still pointed in his direction.

Joshua came in through the kitchen, gun ready, his gaze on Jeanmard. He signaled all clear to Drake.

“Jeanmard,” Drake greeted.

“Lickin’ my wounds and lettin’ my woman fuss over me a bit,” Jeanmard said. “You hit like a freight train.”

Drake nudged Saria. “See that? His woman fusses over him. She doesn’t call him a big baby,” he whispered, overly loud.

Jeanmard snorted. “You won’ be gettin’ sympathy from me. I tried to get you out of it, but you went all Rambo on me. Now you’re stuck with her.” He grinned, self-satisfied. “Me? I’m retirin’ on the front porch and rockin’ with my woman.”

Pauline pushed past Drake and sank down in a chair opposite Amos. “I put supper out after I tended to Amos, so please feel free to eat. I’m sure you’re all hungry.”

Joshua nodded. “Thanks, ma’am.”