They fed the chickens and left a basket of eggs outside Gabe’s door. It was Gabe and Audrey’s day to tend the chickens, but they were in town with the rescued women.

On the way back to the house, Hawk glanced over his shoulder to see Gryff trailing them at a short distance. Earlier, the dog had been heartbroken when Aric backed away from him.

Hawk was betting the mutt would eventually win the kid over. Gryff had a way about him.

The sound of cars coming up their road made Hawk stiffen until Gryff gave a happy woof. Only Bull’s pickup got that greeting.

Looking up, Aric was studying Hawk’s face in an all-too-familiar way.

Decades ago, Hawk had watched Pa like that to catch the first hint of his mouth tightening, or eyes hardening, or muscles tensing. Anger had signs—and kids who wanted to stay alive learned to read them.

“You’re a survivor, kid. I approve.” With a half-smile, Hawk slowly set his hand on Aric’s head and ruffled his hair.

The boy didn’t dodge.

As two garage doors sounded, Hawk automatically noted the locations. Bull and Frankie. But who’d opened the sarge’s garage? Surely, they wouldn’t let the PZ women come here. Talk about a security disaster.

Lights came on in Mako’s house. Yeah, someone was there.

“Son of a—” Shit, the kid. Stop swearing, asshole. That meant he’d have to kick out whoever was in Mako’s house without any colorful language.

Aric’s face was scrunched up anxiously, and Hawk winced. Way to scare the boy. “Sorry, kid.”

“Hawk.”

What the fuck? Hawk froze as the sound of the dark smooth voice brought back memories of long walks in the forest. Of the one person he’d ever let see him cry—and the one who’d taught him how to rein in his anger…at least most of the time.

The tension drained out of him in a rush. Of course, Gabe had offered Mako’s cabin to Doc Grayson. Mako would have it no other way. Despite the difference in their ages, he’d considered Grayson a good friend.

Hawk turned. “Doc.”

The psychologist hadn’t changed much over the years. He still looked like he could make it through basic training without breaking a sweat. He had more gray in his hair and a few more lines on his face. Not surprising. People unloaded a lot of shit on a psychologist. Hell, cleaning latrines would be easier.

Grayson came down the steps off the deck, and then a smile flickered over his face as his gaze dropped to…Hawk’s legs?