“Just us four.” He grinned and tugged a lock of her hair as he answered her second question. “Anything that faces the outside is battened-down. Doors into the courtyard, not so much. Usually only at night.”

She’d noticed how their tall wire fencing connected the houses together and then continued down to the lake on either side, totally enclosing the semi-circle, leaving it open only to the water. “Why does the fencing around the PZ compound feel like a prison but yours feels like safety?”

Bull tucked a hand under her undamaged arm and pulled her to her feet. “Because our fence is to keep out moose and bears and intruders, but not to keep anyone inside. If someone wants to leave, they can.”

The Patriot Zealot fencing really was a prison, holding Kit inside.

Frankie frowned. Today had sure been one major setback. How dare the bastardi shoot at her.

But she’d located the compound and knew more of what she was up against now. Like guards in those watchtowers. Her foray hadn’t been a complete failure.

To Frankie’s surprise, Bull didn’t lead her toward the garage and his pickup but took her between the two kitchen islands into the living room area.

He had an interesting home. The back half of the big two-story house had a hallway to the garage. A staircase led to the second floor. The entire front of the house, open to the ceiling rafters, had windows facing the lake. She could even see her cabin across the water.

Inside, the room’s warm brown and cream colors were echoed in the river-stone-lined corner nook that held a black wood stove. Rather than a traditional couch and chairs, a U-shaped leather and suede sectional curved around a big-ass television. Far too inviting. “Um. I should go home.”

“No, you should have a seat and relax for a while.” He smiled, but his arm around her waist was unyielding as he seated her where she could see out the huge display windows. On the deck, planters held cheerful pansies that brightened the gray day.

“Bull, I really do appreciate all your help, but—”

“Caz wanted you to stay here for a while to make sure you’re recovered. And I want you here.” Bull sat beside her and took her hand. “Caz and I have been in combat. Even if you deal well at the time, the shock of getting shot will catch up with you.”

His black eyes trapped hers. “If you have trouble, I want you here with me.”

“Listen, I’m perfectly—”

“Is the yorkie yapping at you?” The sandpaper-rough voice made her jump.

Hawk walked in from the deck.

“She’s a mouthy one, yeah.” Bull smiled.