As Bull sat beside Frankie, he realized cooking and then listening to the women’s shopping trip tales had eased his frustration and anger.

At least until Lillian spoke to him. “My boy, was there a problem at the roadhouse? Is that why you got home so late?”

“No,” he growled. “It was because I was trying to wade through everything for SIG and—”

“What’s SIG?” Frankie asked.

“Stands for Sarge’s Investment Group. A corporation to handle all the properties Mako bought up around Rescue.”

She frowned. “I thought he was a retired military officer.”

“Yeah, but one who didn’t spend much when serving, then as a twenty-plus year man, he had a decent pension and lived off the land in a cabin with no utilities for years afterward. Once we were grown, we all sent him money, thinking he was using it to live on.” Bull found his throat getting tight.

After a glance at Bull, Caz stepped in. “When Mako moved to Rescue, the town was dying, and he bought properties from the residents who needed to leave. To help them. But before he died, McNally’s ski resort opened, and he realized the town might come back to life.”

Gabe cleared his throat. “He left us instructions with his will. Gave us a mission—to restore the town.”

“He… Seriously?” Frankie gave Bull an incredulous stare. “Is that why you’re all here after living everywhere else?”

“That’s why. It’s a worthwhile goal.” There was a satisfaction in seeing the town come back to life. Become a community.

Lillian frowned. “He bought a lot of properties.”

No shit. “I can’t keep up with all of the work: renting and selling the properties, managing the rentals, bringing older buildings up to code, taxes, and contractors and all that.” Just like that, Bull’s mood went sour again. No, past sour into pissed-the-fuck-off. He growled under his breath.

Regan’s eyes went wide. “I didn’t know you got mad like that.”

Rein it in, asshole. “Sorry, little mite.”

Frankie put her hand over his. Her eyebrows lifted as she asked Gabe, “Are all of you guys overloaded with the SIG stuff?”

“Hardly.” Bull snorted. “They dumped everything on my plate.”

“Are my ears failing me?” Lillian straightened. “When did Mako’s chosen offspring become work-shy, bed-pressing loiter-sacks?”

Bull’s brothers winced.

“It’s not like that, Lillian.” Gabe shook his head. “He’s—”

“No, don’t start with the ‘he’s this or that’.” Frankie’s expression resembled the sarge’s after they’d majorly screwed up. “Why are you making Bull do everything?”

Caz held up his hands defensively before frowning at Bull. “You’re the one with the business degree, ’mano. I’m swamped with the health clinic funding and paperwork.”

“Same with me.” Gabe shook his head. “I can’t keep up with the police station budgets and paperwork. Being the chief involved more of it than I expected.”