Into the Fading Twilight (Starlight Grove, #2) (16)

“Did you know that alpacas all poop in the same place?” Owen broke into my thoughts. “They have like one spot where they pile it.”

My nose wrinkled. “I don’t want to visit that spot in the pasture, okay, Bubs?”

He grinned. “It does kinda smell.”

“Don’t tell Waylon that,” Dex said as he rounded a curve, the main ranch house coming into view. “He uses it for the garden.”

“Gross,” Owen muttered. “There’s poop on our lettuce?”

Dex went on to explain fertilizer to Owen, but I was too busy taking in the house to listen closely. It didn’t matter that I’d seen it half a dozen times now; I was still awestruck.

Waylon had built it with the help of a few friends. Apparently, they had kept adding on as time went by, leading to its sort of ramshackle look. But it worked. The sage-green siding. The wraparound porch.

But the scene stealer was the massive oak tree that erupted straight out of the house itself, making the home seem almost magical. And maybe it was. Brae had shared that the Archer brothers had come to live with Waylon when they were anywhere from eleven to eighteen. She hadn’t shared what had happened to their parents, but I knew it couldn’t have been good for them to end up living elsewhere.

Waylon had made a safe and secure home for the brothers, and you could tell by how close they all were that he’d done an amazing job of being a parent to them. And I had to imagine that growing up in a house like this one had been a trip and a half for a kid because the outside had nothing on the inside.

As we headed up the walkway, a massive Irish wolfhound ambled toward us. She came straight to me, leaning against my thigh. My hand instantly dropped to give her some scratches. No human beings touched me, but this sweet pup didn’t have any such reservations. “Hi, sweet Lucy girl.”

“You know,” Dex began, “I used to be her favorite. But I guess her affections are fickle.”

A laugh bubbled out of me, and it was so damn nice to feel it—the rumbling authenticity of a real laugh. “I guess she just has good taste,” I shot back.

Owen snickered. “She got you, bruh.”

Dex grinned, holding the screen door open for our group.

As we stepped inside, I smelled the scents of true home cooking and heard a bickering argument from the back of the house.

“I’m telling you. That sighting over in the Mojave Desert was the real deal,” Maverick said.

“Please,” Wylder huffed. “You’re the prime target for all those supermarket gossip mags, aren’t you? Do you believe Taylor Swift is the leader of the Illuminati?”

“I mean, if anyone would be the perfect cult leader …” Mav shot back.

Waylon grunted. “That song about players playing is a bop.”

Wylder groaned, but Maverick just laughed.

We made our way through the house and toward the voices. Every time I came here, I discovered something new. It made sense because the interior was like a chaotic work of art with the countless clocks Waylon had made over the years covering the walls.

The furniture in the living space wasn’t something any designer would’ve put together, but it somehow worked in a way that was all Waylon. A brightly striped chair paired with a pastel flowered couch and a couple of antique wooden chairs. A rustic church pew that had been refinished as a bench.

Today’s discovery was a rainbow clock covered with different animals in every color—bulls, alpacas, goats, yaks, sheep, horses, dogs, cats—and tucked away in one corner was Waylon’s true love … Bigfoot.

I grinned as we headed into the kitchen. This house was the coolest.

“I’m telling you, something went across that trail cam I set up in the northwest woods,” Waylon said as he rested a hand on his rounded belly covered by his Carhartt overalls.

Wylder sighed and leaned back in his chair. “I’m sure something did go across your trail cam. A deer or a bear. Maybe a cougar.”

Brae’s whole expression brightened. “A sighting?”

“It’s gotta be,” Owen cheered. “He knows we believe, so he’s not afraid to show himself.”

Dex groaned. “Please, don’t you three start.”

Waylon narrowed his gaze on his nephew. “I will not tolerate Bigfoot disrespect in this house.”

Maverick let out a low whistle. “You did it now. Grounded for sure.”

Wylder snickered. “Maybe his punishment should be helping you set up Bigfoot trail cams.”

“That’s not a bad idea,” Waylon agreed. He turned to me. “How was the first day?”

Waylon was the ultimate grandfatherly figure, complete with hilarious Bigfoot conspiracy theories. But his warmth and welcome were always like a balm.

“I think I did pretty good.” I glanced at Wylder. “But you might want to ask the man in charge.”

Wylder’s lips twitched. “A-plus for sure.”

A hint of relief washed through me at that.

“I knew it,” Mav said, popping the cap off his beer with the edge of the kitchen counter. “Heartbreaker on the loose. Bet those tips were sweet.”

I chuckled. “Not sure about that, but I definitely got to meet some characters. Did you know the owner of the Grit & Grove was abducted by aliens?”