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My father jolted, and for a split second, I saw absolute confusion and knew he didn’t recognize me.

Fuck.

“Ah, the police. About time you showed up. This sign is wrong. Flat-out wrong.” Dad gesticulated wildly and shoved a hand through his mane of white hair. “Folks get lost if you switch the signs willy-nilly. Not me. I know where I’m going, but I’ve lived here all my life. I used to be a police officer too, I’ll have you know. And I used to⁠—”

“I know, Dad.”

That stopped him.

I could practically see the synapses refiring and his brain connecting the dots. If he was alarmed at finding himself three blocks from home, Clark La Rue wasn’t about to admit it.

“Did your mother call?”

I ignored the question. He didn’t really want to know. And I certainly wasn’t going to mention that we’d recently put a tracking device on his cell. Dad was an independent guy who wouldn’t appreciate knowing his morning walks were being monitored. In fact, he’d hate it. Unfortunately, we hadn’t been able to come up with a better solution, and we’d have to soon enough.

“Hop in. I’ll give you a ride,” I offered.

Dad met my gaze—resignation, fear, and embarrassment collided in an ugly kaleidoscope before he straightened his spine and pointed at the black-and-white SUV. “Sure. I haven’t seen the inside of one of these in a while. In my day, we drove a good ol’ Crown Vic with a big, fat V8 engine and…”

I tuned him out, engaging all defenses to keep my sanity in check. Worrying about my father’s battle with dementia…sucked. Life had been a helluva lot easier when my biggest concern was meetings with the mayor and speculating about the sexy new logger in town.

And just as if I’d conjured him, a white Ford slowed at the stop sign. Waylon’s tattooed arm was propped on the door, his sunglasses shielding his eyes. He tilted his head in greeting, a slight smirk lifting the corner of his mouth. I smiled and if my zipper felt a little snug against my cock, that couldn’t be helped.

The truck drove on.

“Buckle up, Dad.” I slipped behind the wheel and started the engine.

“Who was that man?”

Everything inside me froze. I shook off that old dread and glanced over at my father. “That’s the new guy. He’s a logger…works for Cooper.”

“You like him.”

“I don’t know him, Dad.”

“Hmm. The sign is gonna be a problem. Better get it fixed.”

Yeah. Okay.

I had so many conflicting emotions when it came to my father: admiration, anger, respect, outrage. At one point, he’d been a difficult man, impossible to please, and damn it, I’d tried.

But I wasn’t always sure who he was anymore or how much time I had left to figure him out, and it kinda killed me.

CHAPTER 2

WAYLON

“Camp was so fun today! We hiked in the forest and saw woodpeckers and ladybugs with white eyes. It was so cool!”

“Oh, yeah?” I pulled out of the designated pickup area in front of Wood Hollow High, stopping to let a young mom shepherd her two kids to a nearby van.

Emmett rolled down his window and waved furiously. “Bye, Jacob! Bye!”

Jacob did a double take and grinned at my nephew. “Bye, Emmett. Don’t forget your swimsuit!”

“I won’t!” Emmett wiggled in his seat and launched into a detailed explanation as I adjusted his window and exited the lot. “Tomorrow we get to go swimming at the lake. There’s a slide on a raft, and they take us there on a boat. You can only go if you pass the swim test, and I did. So easy. But you still have to sign something, Uncle Way. It’s in my backpack. Maybe you should do it now, so you don’t forget.”

I studied my nephew in my rearview mirror. His curly hair was disheveled, he had dirt on his chin, grass-stained knees, and something that might have been fruit juice on his camp T-shirt. Yeah, he was a mess, but he looked happy. And nervous that one wrong move might put an end to his fun.