Chapter 51 Abigail
Chapter fifty-one
Abigail
Outside the windows, the snow has picked up soft but steady, blurring the fencelines and swallowing the last of the pale afternoon light.
Inside, the house is warm and busy. Boots by the door, voices overlapping, the clink of plates sounding as the boys move around the dining room setting the table.
Lawson passes by with an armful of dishes, sleeves rolled up, brow furrowed in concentration like it always is, while Lincoln lines up silverware with quiet precision.
Meanwhile, Beau is arguing with Jasper about whether they should use the green napkins or the red plaid.
And the thought that a house filled with cowboys has holiday napkins at all, let alone two sets, is enough to make me laugh as I lean against the counter and watch them.
My chest is full in a way I’m not sure I’ve ever experienced.
“I’m going to run out to the barn,” I say casually, pushing off the counter.
Four heads turn at once.
Lawson’s gaze flicks to the window, then back to me. It’s fully dark now, snow falling thick enough that you almost can’t see the barn across the driveway, even with its strands of Christmas lights.
“It’s already comin’ down pretty good, Honey,” he says carefully. “We already did evening checks. They’ll be good until mornin’.”
“I know,” I say, opening the fridge and grabbing the bag of carrots from the vegetable drawer. “I just want to give them a little extra Christmas treat. I won’t be long.”
He studies for a moment, something protective tightening in his jaw.
Stepping closer, I rise onto my toes, urging him forward, and kiss his cheek. His skin warm against my lips. “I’ll be quick,” I promise softly, patting the center of his chest. “I swear.”
His hand comes up automatically, fingers brushing the inside of my wrist. Then, he sighs and lets go. “Don’t wander. And take Luce with you.”
I smile. “Never.”
I pull on my coat and tug my hat down over my ears before calling over my shoulder, “Come on, Luce.”
The cold stings my cheeks as I head toward the barn, boots crunching through the fresh powder while Lucy runs around like she’s in her own winter wonderland.
The barn looms warm and familiar up ahead, light spilling softly from the windows.
And when I slide the door open and step inside, the familiar scent makes me smile.
One of hay and leather and the horses and…
comfort. It’s the smell of a place that’s become my sanctuary.
The place that helped me find myself when I was almost positive there was nothing left to be found.
A few horses lift their heads, ears flicking toward me as if they already know I have something for them. “Hey,” I murmur. “How do you guys feel about a Christmas treat?”
A faint whinny sounds from somewhere, and I take that as my answer.
Moving down the aisle, I slowly feed each of them their carrots with Lucy not more than a couple of feet behind me the entire time. Gentle noses brush my palm, and warm breath fogs the air. Atlas nudges my shoulder impatiently, and I can’t help but laugh, rubbing her cheek before moving on.
By the time I reach the far stall, the bag of carrots is nearly empty.
Griffin sticks his head out the moment he hears me approach.
“There you are,” I whisper.
He takes the carrot gently, lips soft against my hand. I rest my forehead against his neck, breathing him in as he chews. “I’m really glad I found you,” I tell him quietly, before a whine sounds down by my feet. I laugh and gently scratch between Lucy’s ears. “You too pretty girl.”
“I think… I think you all saved me more than you know.”
Griffin shifts against me, and my gaze drifts toward the tack hanging nearby.
Toward the saddle.
My saddle.
The leather is rich and dark, the red stitching catching the faint light in the barn just right. I swear I can smell the new leather even from here.
The memory of them giving it to me—of what it meant—causes my chest to tighten.
They chose me.
They planned for me.
They imagined a future where I stayed.
Suddenly, Griffin’s posture changes, and a low growl rumbles deep in Lucy’s chest.
That’s when I feel it.
The entire barn feels… different.
It feels wrong.
Slowly, I turn to look around the barn, hoping my hackles have risen over nothing. But I know that’s not the case. I know it before I see her.
She’s standing near the far wall of the barn, her face half covered in shadow.
My mind refuses it at first. Tries to name her as something more plausible. More real.
A stranger taking shelter in the cold.
A trick of the light.
Anything.
Then, she lifts her head.
And my breath leaves my body with enough force to almost bring me to my knees.
Katerina.
I didn’t imagine her that day in town. I actually saw her.
My sister. But, in a way, she almost doesn’t look like my sister at all.
She looks thinner. Sharper. Like pieces of her have been carved away.
Her coat hangs loose, her hair, hair that’s always been the same shade as mine, is dulled and pulled back. And her eyes—
God.
They’re the same and yet…there’s something in them I’ve never seen before.
Fear.
“Kat?” The word falls from my lips before I can stop it.
She flinches like she’s been struck, the motion setting off Lucy, who’s still tucked firmly against my leg as her bark rings through the otherwise silent barn.
Kat’s gaze darts to the open barn door, then back to me, panic flaring bright and raw.
“You were never supposed to be here,” she whispers.
Dropping the last of the carrots, I cross the space between us without thinking, my hands shaking as I grab her coat and pull her to me.
“I thought you were dead,” I say, her face now in my hands. “You-you left me.” The three words come out breathless and broken.
“Anya,” she rasps. That name rocks me to my very core.
It’s one I haven’t heard since the day I arrived in Montana.
It’s a name even I tried to forget existed.
Kat’s hands clamp around my arms, pulling my hands from her face.
But her hold is tight. Too tight. Desperate.
“You weren’t supposed to be here,” she repeats, but the words are harsher this time.
“What do you mean? I wasn’t supposed to be where?”
Her grip tightens. “Here. In Montana. You weren’t supposed to be here. You were supposed to stay in New York. Stay with Aleksandr.”
What is she talking about?
I shake my head, like the motion itself will straighten out what she’s just said. “Katerina, Aleksandr is dead. You left. He died. And I was engaged to Maxim.”
My sister’s eyes widen. “You—what—no. I made them send me away so that wouldn’t happen. I didn’t know how to get us both out, but I knew you’d be better off with Aleksandr. They were supposed to give you to him. I made them send me away.”
Give me to him? She made them send her away? What is she even—
“You were never supposed to be here, Anya,” she repeats for the third time. And even though the words are the same, this time they’re laced with so much devastation, so much sorrow, it rocks me to my very core. “They know about you now.”
Cold slices straight down my spine. “Who?” I whisper.
She shakes her head sharply and steps to move past me toward the door. Lucy barks louder as she approaches, but with one movement of my hand, she heels. “Not here. We can’t talk here. Come with me.”
Every instinct in me screams no.
To run back to the house and tell the boys that she’s here. My sister is here.
But there’s that one voice, it’s small but so, so loud, that tells me the second I take my eyes off her, I may never see her again.
She’s here.
Kat’s alive.
And I don’t want to lose her again.
“Lucy,” I say, looking down at her. Immediately, her eyes find mine, and I swear there’s a sense of panic there.
As if she’s pleading with me to stay put.
To keep her close. But I know if she follows me, she’ll only make more noise, and I don’t want Kat to run if Lucy draws more attention to her.
So, I give her a faint smile, hoping she believes that I’m not as scared as I am. “Go home.”
She looks up at me for a moment longer, as if she were giving me time to change my mind, before she turns her gaze to the barn door and takes off like a shot across the driveway.
I look at my sister before she turns, and I follow her out into the snow.
The barn lights fade behind us as we move toward the trees, the world narrowing to the sound of our breaths and the crunch of our boots.
She stops abruptly.
“I’m sorry,” she says, still facing away. “I’m so sorry, Anya. I thought I was keeping you safe. I didn’t want to leave you. I thought I was doing the right thing.”
“Kat. None of what you’re saying is making any sense. Why did you want me to marry Aleksandr?”
“Because Mama and Papa still owed them!” she shouts as she turns to face me, her chest heaving.
Tears streaming down her face. “Mama and Papa still owed them, and they wanted you. Maxim wanted you. I lived in that house. I saw the things that happened. The Novikov’s were horrible people, Anya, but Maxim…
” She swipes at the tears staining her cheeks.
“I had to save you from him. I had to.” Her voice cracks at those words.
She looks devastated. Broken. “I didn’t know how to fix all of it, how to get us out of the mess Mama and Papa created, but I knew Aleksandr would be better than the alternative.
So… I fought. I pushed. I instigated and disobeyed until they realized I wasn’t worth the hassle.
I knew if they got rid of me, they’d give you to Aleksandr. He was the heir.
He needed one of us. I thought I was doing the right thing getting sent away. But it didn’t matter because he—”
“Died,” I finish. “Aleksandr died, and I became Maxim’s anyway.”
“I did it all for nothing. And now I’m here, working for—” she shakes her head.
Kat’s eyes close for a long moment as the snow continues to fall around us.
I watch as she takes a deep breath, opens her eyes, and one last tear falls over her cheeks.
“You weren’t supposed to know them. You weren’t supposed to be here.
” Her voice is soft now. It sounds so much like the big sister I grew up with.
But we’re nothing like those girls now. We’re women.
Women who have had to deal with the consequences of other people’s choices over and over and over again. And that sends me over the edge.
“Stop saying that!” I shout through the night.
She doesn’t say anything.
She just turns and walks closer toward the treeline.
And I follow.
I follow until something dawns on me. “Why didn’t they kill you?” I ask softly. So soft, I’m surprised she can even hear me.
But she does. And she stops in her tracks just before the trees.
“Why didn’t they kill you, Katerina? Why did they send you to Montana?”
Kat’s shoulders move up and down with the rapid pace of her breath, but she doesn’t face me.
“Katerina,” I snap. “Why are you here?”
“Miles Keller.”
My stomach drops.
“He’s one of them. He’s part of the brotherhood. He uses his company to launder money.”
Tears fill my eyes. I didn’t get away. I thought I found freedom here, I thought I found peace. But even across the country, I somehow wound up in all of their… their bullshit.
I didn’t get away. And neither did my sister.
Wait.
My eyes snap toward the barn and back to my sister. “Why are we out here, Kat? Why were you in the barn?”
She finally turns to me again, eyes shining with grief and shame. “I’m sorry. I had to do what they told me. They promised me that if I did, you wouldn’t get hurt. That they’d just go after—I couldn’t risk you being hurt.”
“No,” I gasp. Now it’s my tears that fall.
“Anya, please. Just… please stay here.”
Without another word, I turn back toward the house. I make it half a step when the sound of an engine breaks through the trees.
“No. They-they weren’t supposed to be back here,” Kat says frantically.
The engine hum grows louder.
Closer.
I turn to face the trees, to face my sister, as white headlights cut through the dark, washing over us in harsh, unforgiving light. My eyes burn as I lift my hand, my pulse thundering so hard I swear it echoes.
Kat backs toward me, shaking.
Branches snap, and I can faintly hear Lucy’s barking pick back up off in the distance.
Then, men emerge from the tree line like they’ve been here all along. Dark coats, faces half covered. Purposeful. Efficient. Planned.
“Anya… run.”
But before I get the chance to move so much as a muscle, she gasps, hands flying out instinctively, fingers reaching for mine as a set of arms pulls her toward the tree line. “Anya! I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” she cries, panic shattering her voice.
I lunge for her before strong arms slam into my chest, knocking the air from my lungs. I hit the snow hard, the cold biting through my coat as hands pin my shoulders and wrists.
“Stop!” I scream. “Let her go!”
Kat’s dragged backward, boots carving frantic lines in the snow. She fights, kicks, and sobs my name until a hand clamps over her mouth before one of the men says something that sounds like, “Change of plans, Katerina.”
One of the men looks down at me.
Really looks.
His gaze sharpens as he says calmly, “Boss wants you too.”
Keller.
I know it without them having to say his name.
A million questions run through my brain, but it’s clear… this wasn’t the plan. At least not the one my sister thought she was in on.
But none of that matters, because as one of their hands reaches down to grab me, the only thing I can think of is fight.
“No,” I shout before my body begins to thrash.
But it’s no use.
They’re bigger than me, and I know I don’t stand a chance.
A second later, a hood is yanked over my head, and my vision disappears.
The world tilts violently as I’m hauled to my feet and dragged forward. Snow packs into my boots, and my shoulder screams as I stumble, barely able to keep up as they pull me along.
Kat’s crying somewhere ahead of me. “Kat!” I sob. “Kat, I’m—”
Something slams against my side, and a scream slips past my lips. “Don’t say another fucking word,” a deep voice snarls in my ear. It’s familiar, but I can’t place it. “Make another sound, and we’ll kill you both. Boss’s plan still works if you’re dead. You understand?”
“Yes,” I whisper before cold plastic tightens against my wrist.
A headlight flares bright through the fabric of the hood as a door slams open. I’m shoved forward, hard, into the back of what feels like an ATV, and Kat is thrown in beside me, her body trembling violently against mine.
The small door slams shut, and the engine roars to life before it lurches forward, carrying us deeper into the trees and farther away from the ranch.
From the house.
From them.