Page 33 of Waiting in Wyoming

Tyler had made it clear—Dale couldn’t do a damned thing to help Morris now…or Sierra would pay the price. He had made that very clear. Tyler hadn’t given a shit that Morris had Dale by the balls either. Or that Dale wouldn’t ever have done a damned thing to those girls. He never would have. Ever.

But all Tyler cared about was that Dale had helped Morris so many times before—had he not, had he convicted Morris before, Tyler felt those girls never would have been harmed.

And had Michelle…

Bruce Tyler was going to come for Michelle, eventually. Dale just knew it.

And Tyler was a deranged man on a mission.

Dale didn’t know what he was supposed to do now, how he was supposed to fix this. Morris had so much on him, Morris’s goons had so much on him.

Dale just didn’t know what to do. He was still feeling ill when Michelle came in. She normally knocked first. Maybe he hadn’t heard it this time.

She was upset. It was on her face, so like their daughter’s. He’d been worried about Sierra ever since Tyler had been in his home days ago.

Bruce had made itclear.He was watching Sierra. And liking what he saw.

Dale would never forget the way that sick bastard had looked while he was talking about Dale’s little girl. He had no doubt, Tylerwaswatching Sierra. He had said too much that rung true.

And Dale couldn’t do a damned thing about it.

“What’s wrong?” Michelle asked him. Then she just kept talking. “You’ll just have to deal with it later. Something has happened. In Texas. It might be a problem for us.”

Dale just sat there and listened. In horror. This changed things. Greatly. “They know names now?”

“Some. Not ours, not yet. We need to do something, Dale. If they connect us to this, we…I just don’t know if I can make this go away. The paper trail. And what if those fools who hurt that Barratt boy are caught? It’s hissisterthat is missing. It’s just too coincidental that he’d be living up here now, with everything going on down there now. What if he knows? What if…”

She was panicking. No denying that. Dale put his worry for Sierra aside.Allhe and Michelle had done with Morris had been favors. They had never truly hurt anyone. Not for Morris anyway.

“I’ll see what I can do, what I can find out.” He had contacts all around the country. Texas was no exception. He would do what he could. “I’m already taking steps to deal with that Barratt up here. Trust me, Michie, I’m going to fix this. I promise.”

Why couldn’t he make all of this just go away?

25

Dylan was workingstation six in the diner when the guy first came in. She thought he was three or four years older than she was. He looked so rough. Definitely in need of a shower. He’d walked up to the diner, probably from the parking lot on the corner of their block. It was the baby carrier in his hands that stood out the most to her. It was obviously an older car seat for an infant, but someone had cleaned it really well.

There was a tiny baby inside, with a sweet little face. She wore pink. Everything. She was most definitely a girl, this one. So tiny.

Dylan’s heart just melted, seeing her. She wanted a bunch of kids. Not eight, like her parents had apparently managed, but four was a good number. Six, if their future daddy was willing. Six beautiful babies—not with the same first initials, either, sheesh—who she would love and play with every single day. She would be their mom—and they would always know she loved them and wanted to be with them. Dylan really looked forward to it.

When the time was right. And the guy had to be right, too.

And well…she had to figure out who Dylan Brown was first. Slash that—who Dylan Geraldine Talley was supposed to be, anyway. She was definitely still getting used to the Talley part of the equation. It wasn’t always easy.

“Hi, welcome to Flo’s Masterson Diner. Can I get you started with some coffee today? Are you two all alone today?” The baby was super-young. There had to be a mom for one that young somewhere. The guy wasn’t wearing a wedding ring or anything.

He gave her an exhausted smile, but she felt for him. She really did. He just looked so…tired. “Just us, today. Katie and me—we’re on our own. A coke would be great.”

“What brings you to Masterson?” She was almost certain he wasn’t local—but not like Dylan really knew who had originated in Masterson and who hadn’t. “How old is she? She is so beautiful.”

“Thank you. She’s four weeks old, today. Her name is Kennedy Taylor. I call her Katie. I’m her dad.” And he was proud. It was in how he smiled, even though he was obviously tired, when he looked at his baby. How sweet. Dylan’s heart melted. “I’m a trucker. We’ve had a long drive this run.”

He was fussing over his baby girl. It was so sweet.

But Dylan made sure to stay back—that shower thing? The guy really needed it. “What can I get for you today?”

He was obviously alone. He wasn’t wearing a wedding ring, either. Single father? Of a baby that young? She hoped not, really hoped not. But a dad who loved her—that was more than some kids had, right?

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