Montana Homecoming. Jillian Hart

questions, then I can ask questions.”

       “I’m in big trouble now.” He tossed a wink.

       Handsome. Charming. With killer dimples to match.

      Be still my heart, she thought. She prayed. She pleaded. Don’t be affected by him, Brooke. Don’t do it. But could she help it?

       No. The world around her faded into nothing, the fears within her faded into silence. And Liam? He took front and center. He was life and color while everything else turned gray.

       “Is my head in your way?” He scooted back a little more, as much as his seat would allow. “Can you see all the burrito choices?”

       “Not necessary, because I live for Mr. Paco’s soft chicken tacos.”

       “Who doesn’t?” The speaker squawked, and a crackling voice asked if they were ready to order. Liam ordered three meals, complete with Mexi-fried tater tots, sodas and an order of nachos. Oscar barked, eager to talk to Mr. Paco, too.

       “Sounds like someone needs a dog treat.” The proprietor chuckled warmly. When they pulled up to the window, a big dog-boned–shaped goody waited. Oscar crunched happily on it as Liam tugged out his wallet.

       “Don’t even think about it,” he told her with that smile she couldn’t say no to. “This is my treat. You are doing me a favor.”

       “I haven’t done one yet.”

       “What do you mean? You’ve already taught me not to leave hamburger out on the counter. That’s a start.” He handed over a twenty to Mr. Paco, who squinted through the window at her.

       “At first I thought you were Colbie, but you’re Brooke,” he said. “The sister from Seattle. Good to see you again.”

       “Good to see you.” The moment broke like a soap bubble in the air, suddenly and completely. No way to get it back. For a moment she’d forgotten who she was, she’d forgotten her past. Mr. Paco knew. For a moment she’d been able to step away from the woman she’d been. Anxiety beat through her, kicking in her bloodstream right along with the shot of adrenaline.

      Please don’t say it, Mr. Paco, she silently pleaded. Don’t say what happened nine long years ago.

       “It’s good to see you, Brooke.” Mr. Paco dug in his till and handed Liam his change. “I’ve been keeping your sister in prayer.”

       Oh, Brianna. Relief left her sagging against her seat belt. “Thank you. I know she would be very touched you’re lifting her up in prayer. This is a hard time for her.”

       “She is blessed to have her family nearby. I’ll get your sodas. Be right back.” Mr. Paco’s warm smile telegraphed caring and concern.

       “I hear the tough stuff starts tomorrow. In court,” Liam clarified. “Recreating the facts of the case. The district attorney is determined to get a conviction.”

       “He wants justice.” She remembered the capable, serious-looking man sitting soldier straight, heading the prosecution. Her family put a lot of faith in him. “For all the victims’ sakes, I hope he gets it. We nearly lost Brianna. That’s what brought us together. Lil called me with the news they were rushing to catch a plane to Seattle because Bree had been flown to the trauma center there. It was that serious. I didn’t even know Lil had my number.”