Amelia
Chapter Nine
Amelia
M idnight at Pine Haven had its kind of magic. The empty halls echoed with possibility. Moonlight crafted silver patterns through the windows, and tonight, Hunter’s office glowed like a beacon of warmth against the darkness.
I stood in his doorway, watching him pore over festival security plans. His jacket was discarded, sleeves rolled up, and hair disheveled from running his hands through it—a gesture I was learning meant he was worried. The photo from his father’s accident sat on his desk, haunting us both. Even from here, I could see the tree, the wreckage, the shadowy figure that had sparked many questions.
“You should be sleeping,” he said without looking up, but something in his voice suggested he knew exactly how long I’d been standing there.
“So should you.”
He finally raised his head, and the vulnerability in his eyes made my heart catch. The polished CEO was gone, leaving just Hunter—exhausted, worried, human. “Can’t. Too many ghosts tonight.”
I moved into the office, closing the door behind me. The click seemed to seal us in our private world. “Tell me about him. Your father.”
Hunter’s hands stilled on the papers. For a moment, I thought he wouldn’t answer. Then:
“He was a lot like your dad. Believed in doing things right, not just doing them profitably.” He smiled sadly. “Would have loved Pine Haven.”
I perched on the edge of his desk, close enough to feel his warmth. The moonlight through his office window cast everything in shades of silver and shadow, making the moment almost dreamlike. “What happened that night?” I asked softly. “With the photo?”
Hunter moved to the window, moonlight silvering his profile. He looked younger, like the boy who must have answered that terrible phone call. “I was fourteen when he died. That photo... it’s not what they’re trying to make it look like.”
“What do you mean?”
“The figure they’re claiming is me?” He turned to face me, shadows deepening the lines of tension in his face. “It was Jack Morrison’s father. He was there that night, supposedly ‘first on the scene.’ I didn’t understand the significance then, but now...”
“Now you think he was involved?”
“I know he was.” Hunter’s voice was rough with old pain. “Dad refused to sell his company to Crystal Ridge’s parent corporation. A week later, his brakes failed on that mountain road.” His hand clenched at his side, a gesture so like my father’s when he talked about Mom.
My heart ached for the teenage boy he’d been, losing his father so tragically. Without thinking, I moved closer, taking his hand. His fingers were icy despite the warmth of the office. “I’m so sorry.”
“They’re trying to use that photo to create doubt,” he said, his fingers tightening around mine. “Make you question whether you can trust me.”
“It won’t work.” I squeezed his fingers, feeling the slight tremor there. “I know who you are, Hunter.”
His eyes met mine, filled with something that made my heart flutter. The moonlight caught the gold flecks in his irises, reminding me of sunlight through whiskey. “Do you?”
“Yes.” I stepped closer, drawn by the vulnerability in his expression. “You’re the man who dropped everything to help save Pine Haven. Who remembers every staff member’s name, who makes my father laugh in his hospital room, who looks at me like...”
“Like what?” His voice was barely a whisper, his free hand coming up to brush my cheek.
“Like I’m something precious.”
The moonlight cast shadows across his face as he raised his other hand to cup my cheek. His touch was gentle, reverent almost. “You are precious. More than you know.”
Time seemed to stop as he lowered his head, giving me plenty of time to pull away if I wanted to. I didn’t. His lips met mine with infinite tenderness, a kiss that felt like coming home. My hands rested lightly on his chest, feeling his heart race beneath his shirt as he cradled my face. The moment was sweet and perfect, untouched by threats or danger.
When we finally parted, he rested his forehead against mine. His breath was warm against my lips. “I’ve wanted to do that for so long.”
“Me too,” I admitted, smiling up at him. His hands were still cradling my face, like I might disappear if he let go.
A noise in the hallway made us step apart, though our hands remained linked. Reality intruding on our moment.
“Hello?” An unfamiliar voice called out. “Anyone here? I’m the new night security guard...”
Hunter squeezed my hand once before letting go, though reluctance showed in every movement. “Tomorrow?” he asked softly. “Dinner? An actual date?”
“Yes. I’d like that.”
His smile was everything—warm and real and just for me. Then his expression changed, eyes fixing on something behind me. The warmth vanished, replaced by that protective intensity I was coming to know too well.
“What’s wrong?”
He moved to the window, pulling me with him. In the moonlight, something white fluttered on the glass.
Another letter.
The young always repeat their parents’ mistakes. How tragic that history might repeat itself on that same mountain road.
The festival starts tomorrow. Hope everyone’s insurance is paid up.
Especially yours, princess.
Hunter’s arm came around my waist protectively as we read the threat. The warmth of his touch helped steady my shaking hands, though I noticed his other hand had clenched into a fist.
“They’re just trying to scare us,” I said, but my voice trembled.
“This is more than that.” Hunter carefully removed the letter from the window, his movements controlled in a way that suggested barely contained rage. “They’re watching us right now. That guard’s timing was too perfect.”
I hadn’t thought of that. I scanned the darkness beyond the window, wondering who was out there. The moonlight that had seemed romantic moments ago now felt exposing.
“Come on,” Hunter took my hand. “We shouldn’t stay here.”
He led me through the quiet halls to the main lobby, where the legitimate night security guard, Joe, sat at the desk. I’d known Joe for years—he’d worked at Pine Haven since I was a teenager and had watched me grow up running these halls.
“Everything okay, Ms. Horton?” Joe asked, noting our serious expressions.
“Joe, could you do a perimeter check?” Hunter’s voice was casual, but I felt the tension in his hand holding mine. “And radio Thomas to check the parking lot cameras?”
“Sure thing, Mr. Miller.”
Once Joe left, Hunter turned to me. The overhead lights cast harsh shadows on his face, emphasizing the worry lines around his eyes. “I hate to say this, but maybe we should postpone the festival.”
“No.” I squared my shoulders, feeling the same determination that had driven Mom to fight for what mattered. “That’s exactly what they want. To isolate us, make us afraid.”
“Amelia...” His hands framed my face, his touch as gentle as a butterfly, despite the strength I knew those hands possessed. “I can’t risk anything happening to you.”
Something inside me softened at the gentle way he said the words, the same way his voice had always been able to reach past my defenses. “Nothing will happen. We’ll have security, crowds, and media coverage. Like I said before, they can’t operate in the open.”
“You’re incredibly stubborn, you know that?” But he was smiling slightly, his thumbs tracing patterns on my cheeks.
“Part of my charm?”
“Part of why I’m falling for you,” he breathed.
My breath caught. Before I could respond, Joe’s voice crackled over the radio at the desk.
“Mr. Miller? You should come see this. West parking lot.”
Hunter’s expression hardened. “Stay here.”
“Not a chance.” I gripped his hand tighter. “Together, remember?”
He hesitated, then nodded. We hurried to the parking lot, where Joe stood examining Hunter’s car. The night air bit through my sweater, but the chill wasn’t what made me shiver.
All four tires were slashed.
But that wasn’t the worst part. Written in white paint across the hood was a message:
Like father, like son. Accidents happen.
“I’m calling the police,” Joe reached for his radio.
“Wait.” Hunter was examining something under his car with his phone’s flashlight, his movements precise despite the tremor in his hands. “Amelia, look at this.”
I kneeled beside him, and my blood ran cold. A small device was attached to the brake line, its metal surface gleaming in the beam of light.
“Is that..?”
“A remote control brake override.” Hunter’s voice was grim. “They weren’t just making threats about the mountain road.”
“But how did they—” I stopped as realization hit, remembering all those convenient interruptions. “The new staff. The temp agency.”
“We need to do more thorough background checks on everyone.” Hunter straightened, pulling me up with him, his arm wrapping around me protectively. “And Amelia? I think it’s time we read those letters your mother left.”
I nodded, moving closer to his warmth. “They’re in the safe in my office.”
As we walked back inside, Hunter’s arm around my shoulders, I couldn’t help but think about what he’d said earlier. About falling for me. Despite the danger and threats surrounding us, I was falling for him too—maybe I had been since that first day he arrived.
And that terrified me more than any message painted on a car.
The walk to my office felt longer than usual, each shadow seeming to hide potential threats. Hunter’s hand remained steady on my back, guiding me forward. Despite everything, his touch brought comfort—the same comfort I remembered from Mom’s hugs after nightmares.
“The safe is behind that painting,” I said, moving to the landscape my mother had chosen years ago. She’d always said art should hide more than just walls.
Hunter helped me lift the heavy frame, revealing the ancient wall safe. As I dialed the combination, my hands trembling slightly, I felt him step closer, his presence solid and reassuring.
“Your mother sounds like an amazing woman.”
“She was.” The safe clicked open. “She would have loved you, you know. Your determination to do what’s right, no matter the cost.”
I reached inside, retrieving the stack of letters, but something else caught my eye. A small envelope I’d never seen before, with my name written in my mother’s familiar handwriting: ‘For when you find someone worth fighting for.’
My breath caught. The envelope felt warm in my hands as if it had been waiting all these years for this moment.
“What is it?” Hunter asked, noting my reaction.
“Something from my mom.” I held the envelope carefully like it might disappear. “She left it... she left it for this moment.”
Hunter’s hand found mine. “Do you want me to give you some privacy?”
I squeezed his fingers. “No. Stay.”
The envelope contained a single sheet of paper, and the words brought tears to my eyes:
“My dearest Amelia,
If you’re reading this, you’ve found someone who makes you brave. Someone who makes you want to fight instead of run. Hold on to that feeling—it’s rare and precious.
But remember this: the greatest acts of courage often look like trust. Trusting your heart, even when your head tells you to be careful. Trusting someone else to help carry your burdens.
I’ve left you evidence that might help save Pine Haven someday. But this letter? This one is about saving you from the fear of letting someone in.
Love deeply, my darling. It’s the bravest thing you’ll ever do.
All my love,
Mom”
I looked up to find Hunter watching me, the tenderness in his eyes making me tremble. In the soft glow of my desk lamp, he looked as vulnerable as I felt.
“She knew,” I whispered. “Somehow, she knew I’d need these words tonight.”
“Your mother was wise and right.” He reached up to brush away a tear I hadn’t realized had fallen. His touch lingered against my cheek, warm and steady.
“About what?”
“About trust being an act of courage.” His eyes held mine. “I know I haven’t earned your complete trust yet, not with everything that’s happened. But Amelia...” His hand cupped my cheek. “I’m going to spend every day trying to deserve it.”
The sincerity in his voice undid me. I stepped into his arms, letting my head rest against his chest. His heart beat steady and strong under my ear, a rhythm that felt like home.
“You already do,” I murmured. “Trust you, I mean. Maybe I shouldn’t, with all these threats and mysteries, but...”
“But?”
I pulled back just enough to look up at him. “But my heart knows what my mother meant. About finding someone worth fighting for.”
The smile that lit his face was like a sunrise breaking over the mountains. He leaned down, pressing the softest of kisses to my forehead, then my cheek, before finally finding my lips. The kiss was gentle and full of promise—a future written in the space between heartbeats.
We broke apart at the sound of footsteps approaching. Sophie appeared in the doorway, and then quickly stepped back.
“Oh! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt...”
“It’s okay,” I said, though I didn’t move from Hunter’s embrace. “What is it?”
“This was just delivered to the front desk.” She held out another envelope, this one thick with papers. “The messenger said it was urgent.”
Hunter took it, keeping one arm around me as he opened it. Photos spilled out—surveillance shots of every person we loved. My father in his hospital room, monitors blinking behind him. Michael at his office, unaware he was being watched. Even Taylor and her baby, caught in an unguarded moment of joy.
The note read: Still think the festival is worth it? Everyone has a breaking point, princess. Time to find yours.
I felt Hunter’s arm tighten around me, his body tensing like a shield.
“What do we do?” I whispered.
“We fight,” he said firmly. “Together.”
And despite everything, despite the fear and threats and danger, I believed him. Because my mother was right—I had found someone worth fighting for. Someone who made me brave enough to face whatever came next.
I looked down at the photos spread across my desk, at all the people Crystal Ridge thought they could use to break us. But they didn’t understand. Each person in those photos wasn’t just a potential target—they were another reason to stand our ground.
My father on his hospital bed, still fighting. Michael at his office, working to protect our legacy. Taylor and her baby, representing the future we had to preserve. And Hunter, holding me like I was something precious, ready to face whatever came next by my side.
Mom’s letter crinkled in my pocket, her words echoing in my heart: Love deeply, my darling. It’s the bravest thing you’ll ever do.
Even if it meant fighting the entire world to keep him.
Even if it meant risking everything.
Because some things—some people—were worth being brave for.