Chapter 40 #2
“Malcolm thought it was safer this way,” she explains. “If Mikhail was watching any of you, a direct approach might have led him straight to us.” She glances at Nora, who is now visible through the windows, playing with a large golden retriever in the living room. “I couldn’t risk my daughter.”
The fierce protectiveness in her voice resonates with something deep inside me. Despite everything—the lies, the manipulations, the years of separation—she is my blood. My sister. And that little girl is my niece. I wonder if Declan felt like this when he found out about Kat and Connor.
“Tell me about her,” I say, nodding toward Nora. “About both of you.”
Ella’s face lights up, the resemblance to Tomas momentarily vanishing beneath genuine warmth. “Nora is eight. Smart, stubborn, too brave for her own good sometimes. She loves horses—we have a small house with a stable on the property. And art. She draws constantly.”
“And Nora’s father?” I ask the question that’s been nagging at me since she dodged it earlier.
Ella’s expression clouds. “That’s... complicated.”
“Mikhail?” Kori guesses, her voice gentle but direct.
Ella’s sharp intake of breath is answer enough.
“It wasn’t... it wasn’t what you’re thinking,” she says quickly.
“I was sheltered all my life. After his father got sick, I reached out to him. At first, it was only by email, then eventually we met. I thought I loved him, before I understood who he really was.” Her hands twist together nervously.
“When I tried to leave, to break it off, things got ugly. I told Tomas what happened. He was furious. That’s when he moved me here, changed my name, and then I found out I was pregnant with Nora.
Mikhail doesn’t know about her, and he can never find out. ”
The protective instinct that flared earlier intensifies. I may not know this woman well, may not fully trust her yet, but the thought of someone threatening her and that little girl makes something primal stir inside me.
“He won’t,” I say with a certainty that surprises me. “Find out, I mean. We’ll make sure of it.”
Ella’s eyes widen slightly, hope and wariness battling in her expression. “Does that mean you’re staying? At least for a while?”
I look out at the ranch—at the mountains and lake, the forests and fields that supposedly belong to me now. Then, at Kori, whose presence has somehow become my touchstone in this storm of revelations.
“I don’t know about permanently,” I say honestly. “But yes, I’m staying for now. We all are. We need to get to know each other, figure out what all this means.”
Relief floods Ella’s face. “That’s all I’m asking for. A chance.”
Inside, Nora laughs at something, the sound carrying through the glass. It’s a pure sound, untainted by the complicated legacy she’s been born into.
“She doesn’t know, does she?” I ask. “About her father. About any of this.”
Ella shakes her head. “She knows Tomas was her grandfather, that he’s gone now. She knows you’re all her aunts and uncles coming to visit. But the rest...” She sighs. “She’s too young for the whole truth.”
I nod, understanding. Some truths are too heavy for kids’ shoulders to bear. I should know—I carried the weight of being unwanted for most of my life.
The door slides open again, and Declan steps out. “We should discuss security,” he says without preamble. “If this Mikhail is as dangerous as you say, we need a plan.”
“Always the strategist,” I mutter, but there’s no real heat in it. For once, I’m grateful for Declan’s practicality.
“We can talk over dinner,” Ella suggests. “I had the staff prepare something. And... Tomas’s ashes, you brought them here?” I nod, and she continues. “I thought we might discuss what to do with them.”
“Dinner sounds good,” I agree, suddenly aware of how hungry I am. “And then maybe... maybe you could show me the ranch? The parts that are safe, at least.”
“I’d like that.” Ella smiles, then turns to head back inside. “I’ll check on dinner,” she says over her shoulder. “Take your time out here.”
As the door slides closed behind her, I’m left alone with Kori on the deck. The last light of day paints the mountains in purple shadows, and the surface of the lake shimmers like hammered copper. It’s breathtaking—wild and pristine in a way Toronto could never be.
I turn to face Kori, studying her profile as she gazes out at the view. The mountain air has brought color to her cheeks, and the breeze tugs at strands of her hair. Something tightens in my chest at the sight of her.
“Stay with me,” I say, the words tumbling out before I can second-guess them.
She turns, surprise flickering across her face. “What?”
“Here. At Wolfcreek.” I step closer, taking her hands in mine. “I know it’s fast, and I know we barely know each other, but these weeks have been the most real thing in my life in years.”
“Kane...” Her voice holds a note of hesitation that makes my stomach drop.
“Just to see where this goes,” I clarify quickly. “No pressure, no expectations. Just... us, figuring things out together.”
She bites her lip, glancing back toward the house. “I can’t just abandon Lana. She needs me right now.”
“Lana can stay too,” I say immediately. “There’s plenty of room. She’d be safe here, away from Mark, away from Toronto. You both would.”
Kori’s eyes widen slightly. “You’d do that? Let her stay too?”
“Of course I would.” I squeeze her hands gently. “She’s your sister. She’s important to you.”
“But this place is your inheritance,” she argues. “Your chance to connect with your family. I don’t want to intrude on that.”
I laugh, the sound surprisingly free. “Kori, I just found out I have a sister I thought was fictional and a niece I never knew existed. My definition of family is pretty flexible right now.”
She smiles at that, but uncertainty still shadows her eyes. “What about Toronto? Your job, your life there?”
“My job was just a job,” I shrug. “And my life... well, it hasn’t felt much like living lately. Not until I met you.”
The admission hangs between us, more honest than I intended but true, nonetheless. Before Kori—before this wild journey across continents and family secrets—I was going through the motions, numbed by a whisky bottle, grief, and aimlessness.
“What about you?” I ask when she remains silent. “What’s waiting for you back in Toronto besides bad memories?”
She looks down at our joined hands, her thumb tracing circles on my wrist. “Nothing, really. I don’t have a job. My friends... well, most of them were Mark’s friends too,” she lifted a shoulder, “I don’t even have a house.”
“So, stay,” I urge softly. “Not forever, if you don’t want to. Just for a while.”
“And what would I do here?” she challenges, though I can see her resistance weakening. “Play ranch wife while you learn to herd cattle?”
I grin at the image. “I was thinking more along the lines of partner in figuring out what the hell I’m supposed to do with five thousand acres and a family I barely know.”
She laughs then, the sound light and genuine. “When you put it that way, how can I refuse?”
Hope blooms in my chest. “Is that a yes?”
“It’s a ‘let’s see where this goes,’” she clarifies, but she’s smiling now, her eyes warm in the fading light. “One step at a time.”
“One step at a time,” I agree, pulling her closer until our foreheads touch. “Starting with this one.”
I kiss her then, soft and sweet, a promise rather than a demand. Her arms slide around my neck as she kisses me back, and for a moment, the world shrinks to just us—to the warmth of her body against mine, the taste of her lips, the feeling of rightness that settles over me.
When we part, she rests her head against my chest, her arms still looped around my waist. I hold her close, breathing in the scent of her hair, marveling at how someone who was a stranger less than a month ago now feels like home.
“We should go in,” she murmurs eventually. “They’ll be waiting for us.”
“Let them wait,” I say, not ready to share her just yet. “We’ve earned a moment of peace before the next MacGallan drama unfolds.”
She chuckles against my chest. “You know, for someone who claims to hate the family name, you’ve adapted to the MacGallan flair for dramatics pretty quickly.”
“Apparently it’s genetic,” I concede with a wry smile. “Along with questionable decision-making and a talent for complicating simple situations.”
“And charm,” she adds, looking up at me with a teasing glint in her eye. “Don’t forget the charm.”
“How could I?” I press a quick kiss to her nose. “It’s the only reason you agreed to stay.”
“That, and I’m curious to see you on a horse,” she quips, stepping back but keeping hold of my hand. “I bet you look ridiculous in a cowboy hat.”
“Challenge accepted,” I laugh, letting her tug me toward the door. “I’ll have you know I can rock any headwear.”
As we step back into the warmth of the lodge, I’m struck by the scene before us.
My siblings—people I’ve known as cousins, and some that I barely know but who share my blood—are scattered around the living room in casual conversation.
Ella is showing Connor something on her phone while Nora sits cross-legged on the floor, drawing intently with Lana beside her.
Declan and Rory appear deep in debate near the fireplace, while Kat and Wren inspect the bookshelves lining one wall.
It’s so normal, so domestic, that it makes my chest ache with a longing I didn’t know I carried—for family, for belonging, for connection.
Kori squeezes my hand, as if sensing my thoughts. “You okay?”
I consider the question seriously. Am I okay? My entire world has been turned upside down. I’ve gained two brothers, two sisters, a niece, a ranch I never asked for, and the responsibility that comes with it. I’m a long way from okay.
But for the first time in years, I feel something like hope. Not just for myself, but for all of us—this strange, fractured family that Tomas created and then abandoned.
“I will be,” I tell her, and for once, I actually believe it.
The end