Chapter 4
eliza
Spending time trapped in this lobby in the middle of nowhere with a man who seems to see right through me is nerve-racking. It isn't just the way Walker talks to me, it's the way he says things, too.
It's like the man sees right through me. It doesn't help that he looks like something straight off a book cover. He's tall with massive, broad shoulders, dark eyes, and his skin is deliciously tanned. The unironic beard isn't anything I'd see at home, and it gives him a broody quality.
Walker leans against the front desk, arms crossed, studying me in a way that makes my skin prickle. It's not uncomfortable exactly. Just... seen.
"So." His voice is low, unhurried. "You going to tell me why you're really here?"
"I told you. I'm here to see my brother."
"Uh-huh." He doesn't look away. Doesn't blink. "You flew to Texas, then drove all the way from Austin in a rental car days before Christmas to check in on a brother who's been living here happily for a very long time now. Just a casual visit."
"It worked with my schedule. Besides, family doesn't need a reason." My voice is a little more huffy than I'd like.
"No, they don't." He takes a slow sip of his coffee. "But you've got one anyway."
The silence stretches between us. I should look away. I should definitely stop noticing how his forearms flex when he shifts his weight, or how his eyes catch the gray light from the window. But I can't.
"He stopped calling," I finally say. The admission slips out before I can stop it. "It was just he and I for years. Then Mom dies, and he comes here to connect with our father. Only, plot twist, he never comes back."
Walker's expression shifts. Something softer moves through his steady eyes. "That's why you think we're a cult?"
"I never said—"
"You didn't have to." There's no judgment in his voice, just observation. "You walked in here looking at everything like you expected to find bodies buried under the floorboards."
"Can you blame me? My brother falls off the face of the earth, marries someone I've never met, and suddenly he's living on a ranch doing goat yoga." I fold my arms across my chest. "What would you think?"
Walker's quiet for a long moment. Then he pushes off from the counter and moves toward the window, checking the sky. The clouds have darkened considerably in the last few minutes.
"I'd think my brother found something worth staying for," he says without turning around. "And I'd be scared as hell that maybe he didn't need me anymore. But that's probably just me."
The words hit me square in the chest. I open my mouth to fire back something sharp, something defensive, but nothing comes. He glances over his shoulder, but there's no victory in his expression. Just understanding, and it catches me off guard.
"Danner talks about you all the time, you know. The other Kingridge guys haven't made it easy on him to acclimate." He turns to face me fully. "Whatever you're afraid of losing, I don't think you've lost it."
The sincerity in his tone almost pulls a tear from me. Why the hell am I letting this man get under my skin? Before I can respond, the big door swings open. Not that I'm counting, but it's been twelve minutes.
Danner bursts through, all windswept and wide smiles.
He's wearing a trucker hat that says Fuck the Patriarchy and a flannel shirt that looks like it's been through a hay baler.
With the scruffy beard, he's almost unrecognizable.
This is not the brother I dropped off at a meditation retreat in Sedona three years ago.
"Eliza!" He crosses the room in three strides and wraps me in a hug so tight it knocks the breath out of me. He smells like something earthy I can't place—a farm, I suppose. "You came. I can't believe you actually came."
"Of course I came." I pull back to look at him, searching his face for the brother I know. The one who didn't mind our distance from the Kingridge name. "You stopped returning my calls. What was I supposed to do?"
"I've been busy." He grins like that explains everything. "There's so much happening here. The sustainability initiatives, the goat yoga program, the new pollinator garden—"
"Goat yoga," I say the words slowly, like they might make more sense if I give them time.
They don't.
"It's incredible. Very grounding. You should try it while you're here." He's vibrating with joy.
"I'm not here to do yoga with farm animals, Danner. I'm here to bring you home."
His smile flickers. Just for a second. Then it's back, only a little softer now.
"Eliza." He takes my hands in his, and I notice the calluses on his palms.
My brother, who used to moisturize religiously, has working hands now.
"This is my home now. I know that's hard for you to hear, but it's true. I've found my place. My people."
The word hits me like a slap.
"Your people?" I pull my hands free.
"It happened fast. Becca and I just... we knew." His eyes go soft in a way I've never seen before. "When it's right, you don't need time to figure it out. You just know."
I want to scream. I want to grab him by the shoulders and shake some sense into him. Instead, I take a breath and channel every ounce of professional composure I've built over eight years of family law.
"Danner, you've known these people for what, a year? And now you're married, living on a ranch in the middle of nowhere, doing goat yoga?" I gesture around the rustic lobby. "This isn't you. This is some kind of... midlife crisis. Quarter-life crisis. Whatever."
"This is exactly me." His voice is gentle, which somehow makes it worse. "This is the version of me I was always supposed to be. I just didn't know it until I got here."
"Until you got seduced by what? The Kingridge money, you mean. The legacy. The land." The bitterness spills out before I can stop it.
Silence drops between us like a stone.
Danner's jaw tightens. "That's not fair."
"Isn't it?" I fold my arms across my chest, armor clicking into place.
"Our father had two families, Danner. He chose this one.
He chose Alexander and Bowen and the rest of them.
He left Mom to raise us alone while he played cowboy king out here.
And now you're just... joining them? Like none of that matters? "
"It matters." Danner's voice is quiet but firm. "But I'm not going to punish myself forever for mistakes Pa made way back when. And I'm not going to let you punish yourself either."
"Pa?!" The word shoots out of me. "What the fuck, Danner? Why don't we just get MeMaw and throw ourselves a hoedown?" I open my mouth to continue, but before I can, a crack of thunder shakes the windows.
We both turn to look outside, where the sky has gone from gray to nearly black.
"Shit." Walker's voice cuts through the moment.
I'd almost forgotten he was there, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed. "That storm's moving faster than they said. It's over, folks. No one's going anywhere tonight. In fact, it's probably time to get out of here and back to our cabins."
I ignore Walker and look straight at my brother. "I have a hotel room in town. I'll stay there for the night. Tomorrow morning I'll meet Becca and see if she is a more rational person than you..."
"Not happening." Walker folds his arms over his chest.
I look at Danner, hoping for backup. Instead, he pulls out his phone and frowns at the screen.
"He's right. The county just issued a travel advisory." He looks up at me, apologetic. "You'll have to stay here tonight. We can talk more tomorrow."
"Fine. I saw guest cabins when I drove in. I'll take one of those."
Danner winces. "Yeah, about that... They're mid-renovation. Roofs are half torn off for the solar panel installation. They're totally unlivable right now."
I roll my eyes. "Of course they are. Fine. I'll stay with you and Becca. I'm sure your wife won't mind meeting her new sister-in-law during a blizzard." I can't quite keep the edge out of my voice. "Time for some forced family bonding."
"Wow, I'm really striking out here. We would love to have you, but..." Danner rubs the back of his neck, looking genuinely uncomfortable. "We're in a one-bedroom. And we don't run the heater."
I stare at him. "You don't run the heater. In December. In Texas."
"It's part of our commitment to reducing our carbon footprint. We use body heat and weighted blankets. It's actually very cozy once you get used to it—"
"Fucking gross. I'm not cuddling with you and your wife for warmth, Danner."
"I wasn't offering." Danner cuts his eyes at me.
"Wouldn't be my first choice either." Walker's voice is dry. "I've got a spare room. It's not fancy, but there's heat and a door that locks."
I'm already shaking my head at the thought. "I can't just—"
"She'd love that," Danner interrupts. His face brightens with an enthusiasm I immediately distrust. "Walker's place is great. And Lucy will be thrilled to have company."
Lucy. The daughter. The one who was vibrating with excitement over Christmas lights.
I look between my brother's hopeful expression and Walker's unreadable one. Outside, the wind howls and the first drops of rain start to patter against the windows.
No. Not happening.
"That's very generous. But I don't want to impose on your family," I say to Walker. "We will find other accommodations."
Something flickers across Walker's face. "It's just Lucy and me. Has been for a while now. You'll stay with us."
The words land heavier than they should. Just me and Lucy. No mother in the picture. No partner. Just a man raising his daughter alone on a ranch in the middle of nowhere. But also, what the fuck is it with the men in this town making suggestions as if they're facts?
Danner squeezes my shoulder. "It's just one night, Eliza. I promise we'll figure everything out tomorrow." He pulls me into another hug, and this time I don't fight it. "I'm really glad you're here. Even if you did come to kidnap me."
"Rescue," I mutter into his shoulder. "I came to rescue you."
He laughs, and it's such a familiar sound that my chest aches. "Sure. Let me go tell Becca you're staying. She's dying to meet you."
Then he's gone, and I'm alone with Walker again.
The silence stretches between us, thick with everything unsaid. Rain lashes against the windows now, and somewhere in the distance, lightning splits the sky.
"One night, then I'll be on my way no matter what," I say finally.
"One night," he agrees. "Then we'll see."