Chapter 13 Atlee
THIRTEEN
ATLEE
Lunch with Devlin was fun. I didn’t expect him to show up and treat me to it, but when I saw Noah walk into the diner, I knew there was a reason for us to be there, especially after what he said to me the night at the bar.
Payton comes over and gives me a smile. “You and Devlin seem to be getting along well.”
I’m not sure if I’m comfortable discussing my relationship with Devlin with other people, but I feel the need to sing his praises. “We are. I haven’t been back to my apartment since he came and saved me. Maybe I should?” I pull my thumbnail in between my teeth as I say the words.
“Why do you think you should? If the two of you are happy, then what does it matter?” Payton lifts her shoulders up.
“If I had someone as hot as him in my home, in my bed, and looking at me the way he looks at you, I wouldn’t be looking for a reason to get rid of him, Atlee.
If you’re happy, fuck anyone who questions it. ”
As she says the words, I spot Noah’s patrol car slow rolling by the pharmacy. Anxiousness creeps up in my stomach, but I try to push it away. Shaking my head, I paste a smile on my face and glance over at Payton. “You’re right. We’re good. Fuck anyone who doesn’t understand it.”
Payton squeezes my shoulder before heading back to her station.
I try to focus on filling prescriptions for the rest of my shift, but my mind keeps wandering back to Noah’s warning and the tension between him and Devlin.
It has to be more than Devlin stealing his girlfriend in high school.
I know it’s more than that. I’m not stupid, but at the same time, I don’t want to look too closely.
But every time doubt creeps in, I push it away. I know Devlin. At least, I know the man he is with me—protective, gentle when it matters, rough when I want it. He makes me feel safe in a way I’ve never experienced before. Whatever Noah thinks he knows, he doesn’t know that part of Devlin.
The rest of the afternoon drags by, with customers coming and going in a steady stream. I’m grateful for the distraction, for the routine of measuring medications, answering questions, and offering advice. It’s familiar territory, something I can control when so much else feels uncertain.
By the time five o’clock rolls around, I’m more than ready to leave. The sky outside has turned a deep purple, the sun already setting behind the mountains. I grab my coat from the back room, wrapping it tightly around myself as I step outside.
The cold hits me immediately, a sharp contrast to the heated interior of the store. Winter is coming early this year. I can feel it in the bite of the wind and see it in the heavy clouds gathering on the horizon. The first real snow isn’t far off.
I hurry to my SUV, the one Devlin bought me when I told him that I was walking back and forth to work.
It’s nothing fancy, just a used model with decent mileage, but it’s the most expensive gift anyone’s ever given me.
I still feel a flutter of something warm and complicated whenever I slide behind the wheel.
In my childhood, gifts were used to manipulate, and I pray with everything I have that’s not why Devlin did this for me.
The engine starts with a satisfying rumble, and I crank the heat up to full blast, holding my hands in front of the vents while I wait for it to warm up. The thought of driving these winding mountain roads in snow sends a chill down my spine that has nothing to do with the temperature.
It’s going to be a bitch getting to and from Devlin’s place when winter really sets in.
The thought stops me short. I’ve been automatically thinking about staying with Devlin through the winter and not going back to my apartment at all. When did that happen? When did I start planning a future with this man without even discussing it with him?
We’ve never said “I love you” to each other. We’ve never even had a conversation about what we are to each other beyond our day-to-day life right now. Yet here I am, mentally rearranging my entire life as if it’s a foregone conclusion that we’re in this for the long haul.
The crazy thing is, it feels right. I’ve only had a couple of other boyfriends, but all of them made me feel like I did with my family growing up.
Like I didn’t belong. Like I was trying to force my round body into a square peg, and I could never be me.
With Devlin, it’s different. Despite how quickly it’s all happened, despite the trauma that brought us together, being with him feels like the most natural thing in the world.
I put the car in drive and pull out of the parking lot, my mind still turning over these realizations as I head toward the ranch.
The road stretches out before me, winding up into the hills where Devlin’s cabin waits—my port in the storm of my emotions.
He and I really need to have a conversation about where all of this is going.
I can’t be making plans when he may not even be thinking the same way I am.
About four miles from the turnoff to his place, I notice headlights in my rearview mirror. They’ve been behind me for a while, keeping a steady distance. Nothing unusual about that. There are only so many roads out this way, but something about it makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up.
I slow down a little, expecting the car to pass, but it slows too, maintaining the exact same distance.
My pulse quickens. I’m being paranoid, I tell myself.
The robbery has made me jumpy, seeing threats where there are none.
I should probably be on some sort of anti-anxiety medication at this point. I’m seeing shit where there is none.
Just as I’m about to speed up again, blue and red lights flash in my mirror, accompanied by a short burst from a siren. My stomach drops as I signal and pull over to the side of the road, gravel crunching under my tires.
Deputy Noah Sanchez. Because of course it’s him.
I take a deep breath, trying to calm my racing heart as I watch him approach in the side mirror. He takes his time, touching the back near the trunk, making a show of checking out my vehicle, shining his flashlight around the exterior before finally coming to my window.
I roll it down, letting in a blast of cold air. “Deputy,” I greet him, aiming for polite but falling somewhere around wary.
“Miss Walsh,” he says, his face impassive in the harsh beam of his flashlight. “License and registration, please.”
I fumble in my purse for my wallet, then reach across to the glove compartment for the registration, hoping like fuck it’s there. I never asked Devlin. “Is there a problem?” I ask, breathing easier when I find the registration, and then hand over the documents.
“You were doing forty in a thirty-five,” he says, examining my license with unnecessary thoroughness. “A little fast for these roads, especially with night coming on.”
Five miles over. He pulled me over for going five miles over the speed limit. We both know this isn’t about my driving. What a fucking asshole.
“I’ll be more careful,” I say, keeping my tone neutral. No point in antagonizing him and making more trouble for myself. I’ve never actually been pulled over before, so this makes me more nervous than I care to admit.
He hands back my license but keeps the registration. “This vehicle is registered to Devlin Nelson.”
It’s not a question, but I answer anyway. “He bought it for me after my car broke down.” That’s the simplest way to explain the situation.
“That’s mighty generous,” Noah says, something unreadable flickering across his face. “Must be nice, having someone who can afford gifts like that.”
I say nothing, waiting for him to get to the point.
“You know,” he continues, leaning down so his face is level with mine.
“I’ve been looking into the Nelson brothers and their friend Truett.
Interesting trio. All of them struggling with their ranches for years, barely keeping afloat.
Then suddenly, they’ve got money. New equipment, repairs on both the main house, fancy cars for their girlfriends. ”
This isn’t a fucking fancy car, and he knows it.
“Deputy—”
“And at the same time,” he talks over me. “We’ve had a rash of cattle rustling across three counties. Small numbers, different brands, but it adds up. Almost like someone’s been careful not to take too much from any one place.”
My mouth goes dry. Cattle rustling? “I don’t know anything about that.”
“No?” He straightens up, towering over me. “Well, maybe you should ask your boyfriend where all his sudden wealth came from. Because I’m telling you, Miss Walsh, those men are headed for trouble, and anyone standing too close when it all comes down is going to get burned.”
I grip the steering wheel tighter, trying to keep my voice steady.
I have no idea what he means by sudden wealth.
All I can tell from looking around at the ranch is that it looks like they’re coming out of a bad spot.
But at the same time, Devlin is ex-military, which means he’s probably getting paid by them every month, along with the money he makes at the ranch.
But I don’t know, because I never asked.
“Are you going to give me a ticket, Deputy? Or is this just a courtesy warning about my speed?”
His lips thin into a tight line. “Warning this time,” he says finally. “But you be careful out there, Miss Walsh. Roads like these, things can happen.”
The implied threat hangs in the air between us. He hands back my registration and takes a step back from the car.
Just as he does, another vehicle pulls up behind his patrol car, its headlights cutting through the growing darkness. Noah turns, his hand automatically going to his holster before relaxing when he recognizes the driver emerging from the pickup truck.
My blood runs cold as I recognize him too. Richard Morrison, the oldest of the Morrison brothers, whose family owns one of the bigger ranches in the county. He’s a big man with cold eyes, and he’s looking right at me before turning his attention to Noah.
“Everything all right here, Deputy?” Morrison calls out, his voice carrying on the cold air. “Saw your lights and thought I’d check.”
“Just a routine stop, Mr. Morrison,” Noah answers, his tone suddenly deferential. “All wrapped up now.”
Morrison nods, his gaze shifting back to me for a beat too long before returning to Noah. “Good to hear. Say, why don’t you stop by the ranch later? Got some concerns about trespassers I’d like to discuss. Maybe something to do with the people who stole our cattle.”
“Will do, sir,” Noah responds.
The exchange is brief, seemingly innocent, but something about it sends a chill through me that has nothing to do with the cold. The way Morrison looked at me, like he was committing my face to memory. The way Noah’s whole demeanor changed in his presence.
I roll up my window as Noah heads back to his patrol car, not waiting for him to dismiss me. In my mirror, I watch as Morrison says something else to Noah, too low for me to hear, both of them glancing in my direction.
As soon as Noah’s lights go off, I pull back onto the road, my hands shaking slightly on the wheel. I don’t relax until both their vehicles are out of sight in my rearview mirror.
My mind is racing. Everything that just happened plays over and over again.
If what Noah is suggesting is true…if Devlin, Jesse, and Truett have been stealing cattle.
No. I can’t believe that. I won’t believe it. There has to be another explanation.
But I need to tell Devlin about this encounter. About Morrison showing up, about the way he looked at me. Whatever’s going on, I need to know that I’m not walking blindly into something that could blow up in my face.
The rest of the drive to the cabin passes in a blur of anxiety and questions. By the time I pull up at Devlin’s place, my nerves are stretched thin. I love this man, even if I haven’t said the words out loud yet, and I trust him. But that doesn’t mean I don’t deserve the truth.
As I step out into the cold evening air, I make a promise to myself. Tonight, I’m going to get answers, one way or another. Because whatever storm is coming, I need to know exactly what we’re facing, together.