James was waiting for us when we got home. He was standing on the porch, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his slacks, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows to expose his tattoos.

“Emmaline would have greeted you all, but she’s having a bad day,” he explained. I frowned at the thought of the woman I’d come to think of as a little sister having a low. “So, I won’t keep you. I want to get back to her.” I nodded in understanding. “Dr. Williams is downstairs waiting for your arrival.” He smiled at the woman in my arms. “Welcome home, Juliana.”

With that, he turned on his...