Chapter 27
Shane remained in his chair long after the back door slammed shut.
No one spoke.
The room looked exactly as it had an hour earlier, but nothing about it felt the same. Across the table, Shylo’s half-empty bourbon glass sat forgotten beside her tea, the ice long since melted. A few crumpled tissues lay scattered near her plate—quiet reminders of everything she'd just confessed.
His sister.
The words refused to develop into something real. How could his father have kept her a secret all those years?
Across from him, Tucker stared toward the back door, his jaw set, while Paige quietly blotted her eyes with another tissue. Shane knew them well enough to recognize they were both waiting for him to do... something.
Anything.
Finally, Tucker pushed back from the table. “I'll go after her.”
“No.” The word left Shane’s mouth before he'd fully thought it through. He looked at his husband, who had already taken a step away from his chair. “I'll go.”
Tuck's eyes narrowed before he gestured toward the back door. “Fine. But before you do anything, like sign over half the ranch to her, both of you are getting DNA tests.”
He stared at Shane as if waiting for an argument.
It never came.
Shane understood exactly why his husband wanted proof before anyone made decisions they couldn't take back. Tuck had spent the last hour protecting the people he loved, and nothing Shylo had said erased that instinct.
He gave a single nod. “We will.”
Tucker studied him for another moment before returning to his chair.
Paige reached across the table and rested her hand on Shane's.
“Go talk to her,” she said. “She shouldn't be alone right now.”
Neither should you.
The unspoken thought was understood.
Shane squeezed her hand once before standing. His legs felt strangely unsteady as he strode through the kitchen. He paused at the back door, drew one slow breath, then stepped outside.
The evening had softened since they'd sat down for dinner.
The sun hung low in the western sky, its golden light spilling across the ranch as long shadows reached through the yard.
Cicadas droned from several nearby shade trees.
A few chickens clucked from the coop, and somewhere in the distance, a calf bawled for its mother.
The familiar sounds did nothing to quiet the turmoil inside him.
He'd known for years that his father had repeatedly broken his wedding vows.
As a teenager, after he figured out what was going on, he'd been furious.
He wanted to confront the man, but his mom always stopped him.
She insisted Peter's infidelity was between the two of them and made Shane promise to stay out of it.
Then came her mini-stroke several years before the big one that eventually claimed her life.
After that scare, everything changed. Peter became the husband Helen had deserved all along. The late nights away from home stopped. He devoted all his time to his wife, Shane, and the ranch.
During one of the business trips his father had taken Shane on to teach him that side of the ranch operation, they'd shared a couple of beers at the end of a long day.
Peter confessed to years of infidelity—not that it came as any surprise.
Shane had known for years. But hearing his father own up to it was something else entirely.
Peter insisted he'd never loved another woman.
But he'd made a lifetime of selfish, meaningless mistakes that he regretted more than anyone would ever know.
He'd looked his son in the eye and warned him never to follow in his footsteps. Then he’d said if Shane ever found someone he wanted to spend his life with, he should never risk losing that person over a few hours of temptation.
At the time, Shane had believed there were no more secrets between them.
Now he knew better.
He scanned the yard, and for a moment, he didn't see Shylo. Then movement near one corral caught his attention.
She stood with her back to the house, along the fence.
Daisy stretched her head over the top rail, and Shylo had her face buried against the mare's neck, her fingers tangled in the gray mane while her shoulders shook with quiet sobs.
The old horse stood still, her ears flicking once before lowering her head a fraction, as though sensing Shylo needed the comfort.
The sight squeezed something deep inside him.
The woman who'd sat across the dinner table confessing every mistake she'd made was gone. Out here stood someone completely defeated, seeking comfort from an old gray mare.
He'd spent his entire life believing he was Peter Wilson's only child.
Now he couldn't stop staring at Shylo.
Nothing she'd said inside the house had sounded rehearsed or self-serving.
Every painful detail, every tear, every apology had carried the weight of someone who'd finally run out of ways to hide from the truth.
While he was still trying to wrap his head around everything she'd revealed, he knew she was who she claimed to be—his sister.
Watching her shoulders shake with every sob, one certainty rose above all others.
Leaving her out there alone wasn't an option.
He started across the yard at an unhurried pace.
“Shylo,” he called softly before getting too close, giving her a chance to hear him coming instead of startling her—or Daisy.
Her back remained to him as she stepped away from the fence and the mare, dragging both hands across her face to wipe away the tears.
When he stopped a step behind her, she hesitated before slowly turning her head enough to acknowledge she'd heard him. He rested a hand on her shoulder, the gentle touch urging her to face him instead of retreating again. “You don't have to hide from me.”
She stood motionless for another second before finally turning around. Her eyes were swollen and red, and fresh tears glistened on her cheeks. Seeing her like that drove every coherent thought from his mind. Nothing he could say would erase her pain.
So he did the only thing that felt right.
He opened his arms.
Disbelief flickered across her face before she rushed forward, closing the distance between them.
Shane wrapped his arms around her as another sob broke free.
He held her while grief, loneliness, fear, and regret poured out against his shoulder.
She clung to him with a desperation that made his chest ache.
Thirty years.
Thirty years they'd lost because of choices neither of them had made.
He couldn't change any of it.
But standing there with his sister in his arms, he silently vowed he wouldn't lose another day.
Seth drove with no destination in mind.
The windows were down, but the warm June air did nothing to cool the anger burning beneath his skin. The miles passed without him paying much attention to where they were taking him.
The steering wheel creaked beneath his grip.
“Damn it.”
The curse disappeared into the empty cab.
Everything he'd believed about Shylo had unraveled in the span of a few seconds.
She wasn't just a woman who'd wandered into Hazard Falls looking for a fresh start.
She wasn't the stranger whose truck had overheated on the side of the road or the woman he'd teased into climbing onto Daisy for her first ride across the ranch.
Every smile, every conversation, every stolen kiss suddenly carried another question.
Had she known exactly who he was from the beginning?
His jaw clenched.
Of course she had.
She'd admitted to being Shane's half-sister and hiding who she was. Everything else he'd pieced together on his own, and every conclusion he'd reached made his stomach knot a little tighter. It was easy to connect the dots—she’d used him to get close to Shane.
He slammed the heel of his hand against the steering wheel. “Damn it!”
The truck drifted toward the shoulder before he corrected it.
“She fucking used me.” The words tasted as bitter as they sounded.
He replayed every conversation he'd had with her, searching for the moment he'd missed. Their first night at the bar. The barbecue. The horseback ride. Sunday dinners. Their date. And later, in bed. Nothing could've prepared him for the secret she'd revealed, clearly under protest.
He recalled every laugh, stolen glance, and touch between them. How much of it had been real? Had any of it meant to her what it had meant to him?
His chest ached with a mix of anger and something he refused to call heartbreak.
He drove another twenty minutes before realizing he'd made a complete circle back toward Hazard Falls. The familiar neon beer signs glowing in the front windows of the Bar None caught his attention.
Maybe a couple of drinks would silence his thoughts. Or maybe they'd make him stop caring for a few hours. Either sounded better than staying alone in the truck with his own thoughts.
He eased into the gravel parking lot and killed the engine. For a moment, he sat in the silence, his mind a tornado of memories, unanswered questions, and emotions he couldn't escape.
Shylo was still out at the ranch. She'd ridden there with him, and her truck was sitting at the motel. Ordinarily, he'd have worried about how she planned to get back to town. Tonight, he didn't give a damn. She'd lied to him from the beginning. Let her find her own way to the motel.
He climbed out and headed toward the front door.
The familiar scent of grilled burgers and beer mingled with the faint aroma of cedar from the massive beams overhead as he stepped inside.
The bar was only about half-full. Sunday evenings were usually quiet in Hazard Falls, with most people choosing to spend the night at home before another workweek began.
A few families occupied tables in the dining area while men and women filled many of the stools along the bar.
Some were familiar faces. Others he didn't recognize.
Soft country music drifted through the room as conversations flowed over bottles of beer, baskets of wings, and the muted televisions above the bar tuned to sports channels.