he toed the kickstand and waited. It took her five minutes to wrangle the boys into the car and away from Ruger. Hell, the prospect wasn't much older than the kids, and they probably hadn't had anyone around their age to hang out with since they arrived in Avery Falls.
The kids in town were still in school for another week or two.
He scratched his chin through the layer of whiskers. Bonnie Durham-Murphy or whatever last name she went by had to have a good reason why she'd drag her sons away from their lives, friends, and school, to a place that took her several days to find.
But, hell, he wasn't a parent. He knew Jack about raising children.
Bonnie backed her vehicle to the edge of the lawn and then pulled in front of him, turning to get back on the dirt driveway. He lifted his chin at Prez, letting him know he'd take care of her, and followed Bonnie out to the county road.
Unfamiliar with the winding, mountain roads, she drove slower than the speed limit. He stayed back a hundred feet, not pressuring her to go faster than she was comfortable doing.
Fifteen minutes later, he followed her into the RV Park. He stopped at Hank's motorhome, where his MC brother stayed year-round and ran the park full-time.
He got off his Harley and was halfway to the door when Hank skipped the retractable aluminum step and landed on the ground.
Hank tossed his hair back. "What's up?"
He turned his back in the direction of Bonnie, three RV spots to the east. "Go along with whatever I say."
Hank grunted. "Do I even want to know?"
"No."
"Fair enough." Hank whistled softly when Trip pulled out a roll of cash.
He glanced at his MC brother. "The woman and her two kids? Bonnie Durham-Murphy?"
Hank glanced over Trip's shoulder. "What about her?"
"She'll be staying here until Monday, hopefully, Tuesday. Don't charge her."
Hank lowered his voice. "Trouble?"
"I'll fill you in later." He slapped Hank on the shoulder and walked over to Bonnie, who stood outside the rental motorhome that Hank kept parked for those who wanted to camp but had no accommodations of their own.
The business he had between Bonnie and himself was not intended for every camper along the river with nothing better to do than stare at them.
"Here's the money." He handed the roll of cash over to her. "You're also free to stay here. I've paid the bill through Tuesday."
"You said I could get in the house on Monday."
"You can, but there's no rush. If you want to take your time and move your things in, you can take an extra day." He glanced at her car, filled full of belongings, surprised one of the boys could even fit in the back.
"We won't need an extra day."
"Well, if you need help, let Hank know, and he can give me a call."
Bonnie licked her bottom lip and stared at his chest before raising her gaze. There was a flash of unease before her gaze softened.
"I appreciate what you've done to make things right. I realize it's been a long time since I've been back to Avery Falls. I had no idea someone was living in the house."
"It wasn't me who made it right. It's Avery Falls Motorcycle Club." He hooked his hand in his vest pocket to keep from pushing back the strand of hair that'd fallen onto her cheek. "It was an honest mistake. When the club bought the town—"
"Oh." Her eyes rounded. "I do remember my grandpa talking about the change of ownership. He would tell me how Avery Falls was a populated town when the silver mines were running in the old days, and almost overnight, when the mines closed, most of the people left. He was proud that he'd stayed. Nothing would take him away from his mountains."
Her eyes brightened as she reminisced about her grandpa. Her love for him was apparent.
"I knew Gene," he said before he could stop himself.
She grabbed his forearm. "You did?"
Regret over telling her more than she needed to know. He looked down at her hand, touching him. Being around Bonnie was different than when he hung around the other women around town.
She had him not thinking before he spoke.
During his interactions with Gene, he never heard he had a granddaughter or great-grandsons. It wouldn't have made a difference. His relationship with the old man wasn't a friendship.
"Pretty much everyone knew Gene. The MC bought the town twenty years ago," he said.
She tilted her head. "Is that