Her lips parted. He didn't sound at all like the little boy who used to sit in her lap and suck his thumb.

A sting started behind her eyes.

After all the years she'd spent as their role model, it had only taken a few weeks with Mitchell around for her little boys to start changing.

"Fighting doesn't make you a man," Lorenda argued.

"But Dad and Uncle Mitch fought a war, and that made them heroes." Jaycee gave her a dead-on stare like his statement had explained the key to manhood.

She pinched the bridge of her nose. "Your dad and your uncle Mitch were in the military. That's a very different kind of fighting. You two are not to use your fists at school. Use your words." God knew they certainly had no shortage of them. "That's final."

Malarkey let out a comfortable exhale and shifted to rest his big head in her lap. She gave him a scratch, then frowned at the shedding hair left on her hand. Ah hell. Why not be his pal, even if he were a little gross? She scratched all the way down his back. Her boys were growing up. Would leave home one day, just as they should. And Lorenda was marrying a man who had made her no long-term promises. Malarkey might be the only male in her life that would actually stick around for good.

While Lorenda spent some time with the boys, Mitchell caught up to Talmadge at his office on Main Street. He pulled open the glass door that read "Talmadge Oaks-Environmental Architect. Building Clean & Green." There were a lot of things Mitchell had taken the blame for without setting the record straight. Setting fire to a friend's community building project wasn't going to be one of them.

The bell tinkled, and Talmadge emerged from the back room.

"Hey, what's up?" Talmadge held out a hand for a handshake, and the angry hornet's nest in Mitchell's stomach settled.

"Thanks for taking my call." Mitchell shook his hand. "Sorry to bother you on a Sunday."

Talmadge waved him to the back office. "No bother. I'm just getting some paperwork in order before tomorrow."

Mitchell followed him into the office and took a seat in front of Talmadge's desk. The office was small but beautifully designed, efficient, and modern.

"I didn't set that fire," Mitchell blurted. He scrubbed a hand across his jaw.

Well, at least he'd gotten that off his chest quickly.

"Never thought for a minute you did." Talmadge plucked a brown bag off the credenza behind him and set it on his desk.

"Really?" Mitchell wasn't sure why he'd been so worried. Even after the fire at Joe's, Talmadge had remained a faithful friend. Maybe Mitchell had been worried because so many others had developed a habit of judging him without hearing his side of a story. Admittedly, that was partially his own fault.

"Really." Talmadge pulled a six-pack from the bag. "I walked down to the market after you called." He popped the tops off of two beers. "The fire at Joe's was an unfortunate accident, but you claimed responsibility and have been paying for it ever since. I know you well enough to know that if you had started the rec-center fire, it would've been an accident too, and you would've fessed up."

Mitchell almost choked on the irony.

They bumped bottles in salute and took a long pull.

"So you and Lorenda," Talmadge said.

Yeah. Him and Lorenda. Not much more he could add to that statement. So he took another drink and nodded.

"Mind if I ask how long you two have been"-Talmadge raised a brow-"you know?"

Mitchell did mind because he and Lorenda hadn't been you-knowing at all, but if her plan to get married was going to work, then everyone had to think they were you-knowing. "It's a fairly recent development."

"Let me get this straight." Talmadge rubbed his chin with a smart-ass smile on his face. "You're marrying your good buddy Langston's sister, a girl you grew up with and who is also your sister-in-law, and you're the uncle to her two kids?"

Mitchell pursed his lips and nodded. "That about sums it up."

"Is that even legal?" Talmadge needled him. "Because I'm pretty sure that might be illegal in most states. Except Nevada. I doubt much is illegal in Nevada."

"Should I tell you to go to hell now, or after we've finished the six-pack?" Mitchell delivered the barb with a smirk.

"What do both of your parents say about it? It's got to be a little weird with your family history." Talmadge took a big swallow and chuckled.

Weird didn't begin to describe the situation. "We'll work it out." Maybe.

"Here's to recent developments." Talmadge lifted his bottle.

Mitchell finished shooting the breeze with Talmadge and left to find Lorenda and the kids. He walked down Main Street with her parked SUV in sight. The streets were fairly empty since it was getting late, so Mitchell slowed his pace and enjoyed the cooling late-summer climate.

He stopped at a side-street crossing and closed his eyes for a second, breathing the crisp, clean air into his lungs. It was good to be home.

His eyes popped open, because he couldn't remember thinking of Red River as home since he was a kid. The few times he'd come back to visit while on leave, he'd been revved to leave again within a few days. Or hours.

It was different this time. He was different. And Lorenda and the boys had a lot to do with him feeling more grounded and connected to Red River than ever before.

A Jeep full of teenagers slowed as they passed him, rolled down a window, and shouted, "Jerk!" at him.

Too bad his contentment with being back in Red River wasn't mutual.

He crossed the street and rounded the corner of the historic business district, which brought him to the edge of Brandenburg Park. He slowed to scan the area until he found Lorenda sitting under a tree while Jaycee and Trevor played with Malarkey across the park under the gazebo.

He headed straight for her, passing a few families and couples in the park. He nodded to each, and every single group snubbed him in return.

He drew in a gritty breath.

"Hey." He eased on to the cool grass next to Lorenda. Knees bent, he balanced a forearm over each knee and watched the boys.

"Hey yourself." Lorenda's long, slender legs were stretched out in front of her and crossed at the ankles. She leaned back with both arms braced against the ground.

"How'd they take it?" Mitchell asked, nodding at the boys.

"They're thrilled." She stared at the boys with a wistful look. A gentle breeze shifted a strand of silky hair across her lips, and Mitchell wanted to brush it away. "I think they like you better than me."

He chuckled. "No, they don't, Sparky. They just missed out on getting to know their dad, and now I'm the next best thing." He shrugged. "Or so they think."

"When did you become an expert on kids?" she asked.

"Last night. I read an article online." He winked at her, and she swatted his shoulder.

"Seriously." She turned a soft, almost sad expression on him. "How are you so good with them when you've never had kids?"

Mitchell figured she was comparing the way Mitchell interacted with the boys to Cam's complete lack of interest.

He let his gaze wander over her face. Her creamy skin, deep-blue eyes, and slender neck. And those lips. Pink. Plump. Perfect. He leaned into her, his shoulder brushing hers, and the pulse where her neck met her shoulder quickened.

"I was a boy once. I figure treating them like I wanted to be treated by my dad is a good strategy."

She swallowed. "Not everyone figures that out, yet you make it sound so simple."

"You make being a parent look easy, Sparky, but I know it's not." His voice went hoarse.

She lifted a shoulder. "I'm too much of a softie. I'll admit it."

"You're tougher than you think." Her lips formed a subtle curve, and Mitchell went back to eying her mouth. A mouth like that was worthy of a few fantasies. "If you weren't, they wouldn't be such great kids."

Her lips parted, and she leaned in. Just a breath away, the loose curls that framed her face grazed his cheek. Just before their lips touched, his phone rang.

She shot to her feet, brushing off the back of her jeans. "I'll go round up the crew. We should go home and do homework before it gets too late."

Mitchell pulled his phone from his pocket, and Allen Carson's number popped onto the screen. He waited for the voice mail to beep, then listened while Lorenda met the boys at the gazebo. Malarkey jumped on her, and she actually gave him a hug instead of her usual barely-a-touch pat on the head.

Allen's message started with a cuss-out session. Then he turned serious. "Come on, Lawson. A guy like you can't stay still for long, especially in that small Podunk town you're from. No one is better suited for this job than you, so get your head out of your ass and get back to work so you can stay out of trouble."

Precisely why Lorenda had insisted they get married. To keep him out of trouble.

If they were in a bigger city where law enforcement consisted of more than one overworked sheriff, their plan would've likely already been outed. In Red River, there wasn't much the understaffed sheriff's office could do.

The crummy thing was, Mitchell was letting Lorenda do it, even though there wasn't much in it for her. Seemed like a Lawson family trait. He shouldn't. He just couldn't bring himself to hurt his mother and cause his father's health to go further downhill. And Mitchell sure wasn't ready to walk away from Lorenda. Not yet, when she might still be in danger. Even though walking away was exactly what he should do.

Chapter Fourteen.

In Red River, the line between gossip and truth often got muddled. When the last school bell rang on Monday and only half of the folding chairs for the music program filled, Lorenda knew the rumor mill had already tried and convicted Mitchell. She might as well have put on her prison orange too because she was about to marry him.

Hence, the empty chairs. She needed to find a way to inspire confidence in the parents so they'd let their kids stay in the program.

"Okay, kids." She gave them a dazzling smile of assurance from behind her director's stand, which she so did not feel. "Let's close the gaps and form a tighter group."

While the kids stacked the empty chairs to the side and rearranged their seats and stands, Andrea came over with her eyes glued to the floor. "My mom said I might not be able to stay in the band."

At this rate, Lorenda wouldn't have to worry about a place for rehearsals. The entire adolescent orchestra would fit in the bathroom by the end of the week.

"Tell you what, hon." Lorenda put a hand on Andrea's shoulder. "Let's practice our hearts out today, and then you go home and tell your parents that a professional musician is going to be helping out from now on."

Sierra. There was only one professional musician in town, and Dylan McCoy had already given her a resounding no.

"And tell your parents that we'll likely be getting better equipment soon because a conductor from a big city symphony is so excited about this program that he plans to sponsor us."

Ouch. That would be news to Daniel Summerall. His sponsorship was a big if and depended on the concert. Which was already falling apart. A band concert would be a little difficult if there were no students left to perform.

Plus, Lorenda was getting way too good at manipulating the truth. And for a second, she saw how easily it had been for Cameron to slip into that pattern of covering his ass. It was easier than disappointing people. "So chin up, okay? We've got a few weeks to practice for our concert, and then everyone will see how great this program is."

They rehearsed "Hot Cross Buns" until a dull throb started behind one of Lorenda's eyes. Principal Wilkinson walked in and stood at the back of the gym. Wearing a short-sleeved dress shirt and a tie that she would swear was clipped on, he crossed both arms and waited.

Aaaand the throb escalated to a full-blown migraine that seared the center of her brain like someone had jabbed her in the eye with a hot poker.

"That's it for today, kids. Practice the next song in your book for our next rehearsal." She released the kids and gathered up her music.

Bart joined her by the bleachers.

"Are Jaycee and Trevor in the Wilderness Scouts meeting?" She stuffed sheet music into a satchel.

He nodded. "I haven't had a lick of trouble with them since our last run-in. I think they're responding to my leadership."

No. They just wanted to go on the campout. For someone whose career centered on children, Bart didn't actually understand much about them.

"Do you really think Mitchell Lawson is the best influence for your boys, Lorenda?" Bart's voice was calm but had an unmistakable edge of concern.

"I'm sure you mean well, Principal Wilkinson."

His lips thinned. "We're friends, Lorenda. Call me Bart."

"Bart." She smiled.

He smiled back.

"Please don't speak that way about my fiance, especially if my kids are around." She folded up a music stand and stacked it on the bleachers by her purse and satchel.

He stayed quiet for a beat. "I'm afraid I can't allow Mitchell to go on the campout. Word is the fire chief has officially ruled the rec center foul play. Parents don't want their kids around an arsonist."

Lorenda bristled. "He is not an arsonist. He's never been convicted of that or any other crime. In fact, he's a war hero. Does anyone in this town remember that?"

Bart shoved a hand in his pocket. "I've already gotten a few calls from concerned parents." A thin smile formed on his lips. "I'm sure you understand that, when kids are involved, parents become extra cautious."

"Mitchell hasn't even been charged, and he never will be." She hoped and prayed. "Because he didn't do it." She stacked another folded music stand.

"I have a responsibility to the kids going on the campout and their parents. Under the circumstances, it's best for Mitchell not to go. Of course, you could still be a chaperone, and I'll be there to help you." Bart's smile broadened. "We've changed the date to this Saturday. I gave flyers to the boys today with all the information."

Her wedding was the night before. "Not possible, but thanks for offering."

"Jaycee and Trevor are doing so well, it might be nice for you to see how they interact with me and how they follow my lead."

She stacked another music stand and faced him. "I'm getting married Friday night."

"I'm aware." His eyes darkened.

"I know you're trying to help, but I don't think Jaycee and Trevor will be able to go on the campout this year since you've changed the date."

She'd have to take the boys on a separate campout. Right after she kicked her own ass all the way to Nebraska. Now she had to break the news to her boys that they were no longer going camping with the Wilderness Scouts because of her rushed marriage.