Page 62 of Cowboy Elite 2: Mike

"Brought donuts," he announced. "No offence to y’all’s fancy scones. And extra shells for the twelve-gauge, just in case diplomacy don't take."

Charlotte shrieked with delight and launched herself at him. "Grandpa Q! Did you bring the chocolate ones?"

"Course I did. What kind of grandfather you take me for?" He caught her with practiced ease, shotgun and all. "You being good to Miss Liv here?"

"I gave her my special rock for protection."

"That's my girl. Rocks and prayer. Can't go wrong." He set Charlotte down and fixed his sharp gaze on Liv. "You holding up all right? Joe says this Harris fella's been making a nuisance of himself."

Liv managed a smile despite the tightness in her chest. "I'm managing. Thank you for coming back."

"Wasn't gonna stay in town while some fool in new boots tries to intimidate one of my own." Quentin set the donut box on the table with a decisive thunk and set his shotgun on a shelf in the mudroom, close enough to grab if needed. "Now. Someone want to tell me the plan so I know where to post up?"

Joe closed his laptop. "We're fortifying perimeter security and preparing for the bake sale on Saturday. Two birds, one stone. Community fundraiser and natural excuse for half the county to be on the property."

"Smart." Quentin nodded approval. "Nothing says 'back off' like sixty Texans with casserole dishes and concealed carry permits."

"Grandpa," Lyle said, but he was grinning.

"Don't 'Grandpa' me. I've been running off trouble since before you boys were born." He looked at Liv. "You just keep making those biscuits, darlin'. We'll handle the rest."

By mid-morning, the ranch had transformed into a hive of activity. The bake sale preparation was in full swing, but it had become something more. A gathering point, a way for the community to circle the wagons without making it obvious they were circling the wagons.

Mrs. Halloway arrived first with six women from her bible study group, all of them carrying casserole dishes and sharp eyes that missed nothing. They set up in the great room, ostensibly to assemble donation baskets, but Liv noticed how they positioned themselves near windows, how their conversations always included updates on who was coming and going. How the older woman told her friends to mind their pocketbooks due to the loaded pistols.

Mrs. Halloway wandered into the kitchen around ten-thirty. Liv, sleeves rolled up, had her hands deep in pie dough.

"Don't mind us, dear," Mrs. Halloway said, settling beside her at the counter. "We're just here to help with the Lord's work." She picked up a rolling pin with practiced efficiency. "And maybe keep an eye out for any wolves in sheep's clothing."

Liv's hands stilled in the dough.

"It's all right, honey." Mrs. Halloway's voice gentled. "Small towns talk. And when someone shows up asking questions about a young woman who keeps to herself, folks notice. We also notice when that same someone looks at our girl like she's prey instead of people."

"I don't want anyone getting hurt because of me," Liv said quietly.

"Then it's a good thing we're a stubborn bunch who don't scare easy." Mrs. Halloway patted her hand, leaving a dusting of flour. "You're one of ours. That means something here. It means when trouble comes knocking, we answer the door together."

Liv's throat closed. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me yet. I intend to rope you into the church bake sale next month too."

Despite everything, Liv laughed.

Cooter showed up around eleven with his massive barrel smoker hitched to his truck, two of his sons helping him maneuver it into position near the barn.

"Heard you needed barbecue for the fundraiser," he called to Mike. "Figured I'd get a jump on the prep work. Takes twelve hours to do brisket right, and I ain't about to serve anything less than perfection."

"You didn't have to come this early," Mike said.

"Course I did. This is Liv's first big community event." Cooter's voice dropped. "And I heard through the grapevine there might be some folks sniffing around who ain't welcome. Figured having my smoker set up gives me an excuse to be on the property for the next day or so. Just in case."

Mike and Cooter's eyes met. Understanding passed between them.

"Appreciate it," Mike said.

"That's what neighbors do."

By noon, there were at least twenty people on the ranch property, all with legitimate reasons to be there, all positioned to provide additional security without making it obvious that's what they were doing.