CHAPTER 27
I lean against the round pen’s rails, watching Sophie sit tall in the saddle as Jake leads Buttercup in slow circles. My heart swells with pride seeing how much she’s improved after just a few lessons—she’s a natural. But even as I smile, a low hum of anxiety churns beneath the surface, like static that never fully quiets. Gavin stands close beside me, and his presence helps, grounding me, steadying my breath just a little.
“She’s getting really good,” he says softly, and I nod in agreement.
“She is. The lessons have been so good for her confidence.” I pause, blinking back the sudden sting of emotion. “Everything here has been good for us, actually.”
He turns slightly toward me. “I’ve been meaning to ask… how are you doing with everything? With the protective order paperwork? I know a few days ago when you mentioned it at dinner you were worried.”
My breath catches, and I exhale slowly, trying to still the shakiness in my hands. “We filed it yesterday. Dale says it should be processed within a week.” I grip the rail tighter, grounding myself in the cool metal.
“Good,” he says firmly. “Has he tried to contact you at all since the last phone call?”
“No, his numbers are still blocked, but I keep expecting to see his black truck around every corner.” My voice trembles, and I hate it. I hate how even speaking his name gives him power over me.
“Mommy! Gavin! Look!” Sophie calls out, waving with one hand while keeping the other on the reins just like Jake taught her. “I’m steering all by myself!”
“That’s amazing, baby!” I call back, forcing a cheer into my tone that feels like it’s held together with duct tape. “You’re doing so good!”
Jake gives us a thumbs up as they make another circle. “She’s a natural, Ms. Bailey. Pretty soon she’ll be ready to learn her diagonals!”
Gavin’s hand covers mine on the rail. I flinch, just slightly, before relaxing into the warmth of his touch. He doesn’t comment on it.
“You know I’m here, right? Whatever you need. Day or night.”
I turn my hand over and interlace our fingers, pressing down the lump rising in my throat. “I know.”
The lesson wraps up soon after, and Jake helps Sophie dismount. “Want to help give Buttercup her special treat?” he asks her.
She looks up at him. “Yes, please.”
We follow them to the barn where Jake replaces Buttercup’s bridle with her halter that’s currently clipped to the lead rope in the cross ties.
Sophie and I have learned so much about horses, about the ranch and all the correct terminology and how things work since arriving. He hands Sophie the treat jar. “Remember to hold your hand flat,” he demonstrates, “so she can take it nicely.”
Sophie follows his instructions perfectly, giggling as Buttercup’s whiskers tickle her palm. After treating Buttercup, we brush her off, and Jake explains each brush and its purpose again. She’s soaking up every word like a sponge.
“She’s going to be talking about this all night,” I tell Gavin.
“Good,” he grins. “Better than her usual bedtime stalling tactics.”
When it’s time to go, Gavin walks us down the drive to our front door. He bends down and gives Sophie a big hug.
“Bye, Gavin!” She waves. “Are you coming for dinner tomorrow?”
“Not tomorrow, sweetheart. I have to work late at the clinic. But I’ll see you both this weekend, okay?”
“Okay, goodnight.” She tells him as she runs inside to get ready for her bath.
“Goodnight Gavin.” I freeze for a moment and then pull him into a hug. His arms cautiously wrap around me, strong and reassuring.
He squeezes me tight and whispers in my ear. “Goodnight, Bailey.” And then kisses the top of my head.
Once inside, Sophie talks excitedly through her bath time, telling her rubber duck all about steering Buttercup. I help her into her pajamas then we brush our teeth.
“Can we read two stories tonight?” she asks as we cuddle up in bed.
“One story,” I say firmly. “It’s already past bedtime.”
She picks one of her favorites and I do all the silly voices she loves. By the time the main character sails back home, her eyes are heavy.
“Mommy?” she asks as I tuck her in. “Can I have my own pony one day?”
I laugh softly. “We’ll see, baby. For now, you have Buttercup to ride whenever you have lessons.”
“I love Buttercup,” she yawns. “And Ms. Lucy, and Gavin…”
“I know you do.” I kiss her forehead. “Sweet dreams, my love.”
“Sweet dreams, Mommy. Love you to the moon and back.”
“Love you to the moon and back times infinity,” I echo.
After she’s asleep, I do my usual house check, doors locked, windows secured. I text Gavin “Goodnight.”
He replies: Goodnight Bailey. Try to get some sleep. Remember, you’ve got this, and you’ve got me.
I smile at his message and plug my phone into its charger.
Curling up on the couch with my romance book. I get through multiple chapters, losing myself in the story. My heart flutters as the main characters share a tender kiss in the rain, his strong hands cupping her face while thunder rolls in the distance. I can’t help but smile, thinking how sometimes fiction mirrors reality in the sweetest ways and by the time my eyes start to droop, I’m almost done with the book, thoroughly invested in their blooming romance and can’t help my mind wandering about how different my life is now compared to just a few months ago.
I feel a flicker of unease ripple through me as I compare my past and present situations. The stark differences instantly make my stomach clench—thinking about where Sophie and I were just months ago versus the peace we’ve found here at Ms. Lucy’s. While I’m grateful for how far we’ve come, those memories still have a way of sneaking up on me, casting shadows over even the most contented moments.
Sophie’s smiling more these days. Her eyes light up in ways I haven’t seen in so long. She’s making friends, coming out of her shell, giggling with Tommy during playdates instead of hiding behind my legs. And me? I’m starting to feel a little like myself again, piece by piece, rediscovering the woman I was before everything fell apart. I catch glimpses of her in the mirror sometimes, in a genuine laugh or a moment of confidence I thought I’d lost forever.
The anxiety is still there though, humming beneath the surface like an electric current. The fear of what Matt might do next is still at the forefront of my mind, casting its long shadow even over our brightest moments here. Every unfamiliar car that drives past Ms. Lucy’s makes my heart skip a beat. Every phone call sends ice through my veins.
I check the time on my phone and startle when I see it’s almost midnight. Wow, I hadn’t realized I read for as long as I had, completely lost in the story’s world. I need to get to bed, tomorrow’s another busy day of deliveries. I mark my place in the book, and then I realize the beautiful wildflowers Gavin left in my car need fresh water.
The house is quiet except for the soft hum of the AC and the lamp in the living room casts a low intimate glow into the kitchen. As I fill the vase with fresh water something catches my eye through the window above the sink. There’s an odd shape or marking on the glass, but in the low light, I can’t quite make it out. I reach out and touch the glass, but the markings are still there.
My heart starts to race. It could be nothing but still, my hands tremble as I reach for the kitchen light switch.
The bright lights flicker on, and my blood runs cold.
My lungs seize.
I stand frozen, my mind completely shutting down as I stare at what’s before me. For a heartbeat, maybe two, I can’t process what I’m seeing. Then survival instinct kicks in, and I move with an urgency I didn’t know my body possessed, my trembling limbs suddenly finding their purpose.
I grab my phone off its charger and take a picture and then edit it. It nearly slips from my fingers as I stare at the mirrored image.
The words “I CAN SEE YOU” with a crude drawing of what’s unmistakably a rifle scope.
Matt.
My legs give out and I slide down against the cabinets, forcing myself to take shallow breaths. I can’t breathe.
Don’t pass out.
Don’t pass out.
Sophie needs me.
Sophie.
Oh god, Sophie.
I crawl across the kitchen floor, staying low. My heart pounds so hard I can hear the blood rushing in my ears. I reach up and flick off the kitchen light and then the living room lamp, plunging the room into darkness. What had felt cozy moments ago now feels suffocating.
My hands shake so badly I can barely grip the phone as I army-crawl down the hallway to our room. My breath comes in short gasps that I struggle to control.
I have to stay quiet.
I have to stay low.
The door is cracked open just like I left it. I peer inside, my heart threatening to burst from my chest. The nightlight casts a soft glow across the room and I see her peaceful face. Her chest rises and falls steadily, one arm wrapped around Mr. Hoppy. The curtains are drawn tight, thank God I always close them at sunset. A habit born from paranoia that now seems like divine intervention.
I back away, still crawling, until I reach the bathroom. I slip inside and shut the door before collapsing against it. The sobs I’ve been holding back tear loose, silent but violent enough to make my whole body convulse. I stuff my fist against my mouth to muffle the sound.
He found us. Oh God, he found us.
My vision blurs as tears stream down my face. I can’t breathe. Can’t think. The walls are closing in and the darkness is suffocating me and I’m going to pass out here on this bathroom floor while he’s out there watching and Sophie is sleeping and-
My phone.
With trembling fingers I bring it up to my face. The screen illuminates the small space, making me flinch. I dim it quickly before pulling up my contacts. Gavin’s name swims before my tear-filled eyes. I hit call.
One ring. Two rings. Three-
“Hello?” His voice is thick with sleep.
I open my mouth but no sound comes out. Just ragged breathing that I can’t control.
“Bailey?” He sounds more alert now. “Bailey, what’s wrong?”
A sob escapes before I can stop it.
“Bailey, talk to me. Are you hurt? Is Sophie okay?”
“He-” My voice breaks. I swallow hard. “He was here. Matt was here.”
“What?” I hear the sound of rustling fabric. “Where are you?”
“In—in the bathroom. Sophie’s asleep. I found—there was a message. On the kitchen window.” Another sob rips through me. “He can see us, Gavin. He wrote that he can see us.”
“I’m coming. Right now. Stay inside. I’m calling the sheriff on my work cell. Do you want me to stay on the line?”
“Please.” It comes out as a whisper.
“I’m already in my truck. Ten minutes, Bailey. Just ten minutes. Keep talking to me.”
I press my forehead against my knees, trying to make myself smaller. “What if he’s still out there?”
“The sheriff is five minutes out. They’ll check the property.” The sound of his engine roaring to life punctuates his words. “Did you see anyone? Hear anything?”
“No. I was reading and then I went to change the water in the flowers you gave me and-” My voice cracks again. “It was just there. Written on the window. With a drawing of a rifle scope.”
“What flowers?” His voice turns sharp.
And my blood runs cold. “The—the wildflowers. The ones you left in my car the other day.” Even as I say the words, something shifts in my mind, a horrible realization trying to surface.
“Bailey, I didn’t leave any flowers in your car.”
The phone nearly slips from my grasp. “But there was a note… it said ‘You look pretty’ and I thought…” My voice trails off as the truth hits me like a physical blow. “Oh no.”
“Bailey?”
“My car was locked.” The words come out in a horrified whisper. “When I was leaving the flower shop, my car was locked” Bile rises in my throat. “The spare key. Matt has the only spare key.”
My free hand clamps over my mouth again as I fight back another wave of nausea. He’s been here. He’s been here for who knows how long, watching us, waiting. Playing his sick games.
“Bailey.” Gavin says bringing me back to the present.
“I need to be with Sophie,” I whisper into the phone. “Please hurry.”
“I’m five minutes away. The police are almost there. I’ll knock three times so you know it’s me.”
I disconnect and crawl back down the hallway. Every shadow makes my heart skip, every creak of the house sends ice through my veins. I keep low, below window level, even though the curtains are drawn. The memory of those words on the glass haunts me. How long was he watching? How many times has he stood there, looking in at us while we went about our lives, thinking we were safe?
I reach the room and slip inside, easing the door shut behind me. The soft click of the lock engaging provides little comfort. What good is a lock against someone who wants to cause damage? What good are the police when they’ve failed us before?
My mind flashes back to Oklahoma, to the bruises I carefully documented, the police reports I filed that went nowhere. “It’s your word against his, ma’am.” “No visible marks this time.” “Maybe you should try counseling.” Always the same dismissive responses, always leaving us alone with him, making things worse.
I climb into bed beside Sophie, gathering her small warm body against mine. She stirs at the movement, her eyes fluttering open.
“Mommy?” Her voice is thick with sleep. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, baby.” I smooth her hair back from her face, trying to keep my voice steady. “Just wanted some cuddles.”
She burrows closer, but I feel her little body tense. She’s always been so attuned to my moods, picking up on my fear no matter how hard I try to hide it. “Are you scared?”
“No, sweetheart.” The lie tastes bitter on my tongue. “Everything’s okay.”
A flash of red and blue lights sweeps across the ceiling through a sliver in the curtains. Sophie’s grip on my shirt tightens. “Police cars?”
“It’s okay.” I press my lips to her forehead. “Some friends are coming to check on us.”
“Is it ’cause of Daddy?” Her voice trembles and my heart shatters. “Is he here?”
“No, baby.” I pull her closer, wishing I could absorb her into my body. “He’s not here. I won’t let him hurt us anymore.”
But even as I say the words, doubt gnaws at me. How can I protect her when he’s already gotten so close? When he’s been watching us, planning who knows what?
Footsteps crunch on gravel outside. Sophie whimpers and I hold her tighter.
“Shh, it’s okay. That’s just the nice policeman checking everything.”
“And Gavin?” She asks. “Is Gavin coming?”
“Yes, baby. Gavin’s coming too.”
More footsteps, voices murmuring outside. Flashlight beams sweep past the windows. I strain my ears for any sound that might be Matt, might be him trying to get in while everyone’s distracted out front. My body is coiled so tight it aches.
Three knocks at the front door make us both jump.
“Bailey?” Gavin’s voice, tight with worry. “It’s me.”
I hesitate, torn between staying in our defensive position and letting him in.
“Stay here, baby,” I whisper to Sophie, but her arms lock around my neck.
“No! Don’t leave me!”
“Okay, okay.” I shift her to my hip, her legs wrapping around my waist.
We make our way to the front door, staying well back as I check through the peephole. Gavin stands there in sweatpants and a t-shirt, his hair mussed from sleep. Two deputies flank him, scanning the darkness.
I unlock the door slowly and Gavin steps inside immediately, wrapping us in his arms.
“Are you both okay?” His eyes search my face, then scans Sophie for any sign of harm.
I nod, not trusting my voice.
“Ms. Monroe?” One of the deputies steps forward. “I’m Deputy Martinez. We’ve searched the property and surrounding area. No sign of anyone, but we found fresh tire tracks by the back fence.”
My knees go weak. Gavin’s arm tightens around me.
“Mommy, I’m scared.” Sophie whimpers into my neck.
“Shh baby, we’re okay.” I smooth her hair and give her a kiss on her forehead. Covering her ear, I look back at Deputy Martinez.
He continues. “We’ve documented everything and photographed the message on your window. Do you want to file a report?”
I freeze. “What good will that do?” I whisper shout. “You can’t protect us. No one could—.”
The sound of an engine roaring up the driveway cuts through the tension. Headlights sweep across the yard as a side-by-side utility vehicle skids to a halt near the porch. Ms. Lucy jumps out with surprising agility for a woman her age, her silver hair flying wild around her face. She’s wearing a flannel robe over her pajamas.
“What in God’s name is going on here?” She marches up the steps, her green eyes blazing. “I saw the police lights from my window. Bailey? Sophie? Are y’all alright?”
Sophie’s grip on my neck tightens and I can feel her tears on my neck, but I feel her head turn toward Ms. Lucy’s familiar voice.
“He was here,” I whisper, my voice cracking. “Matt. He left a message on the kitchen window.”
Her expression hardens into something I’ve never seen before, a steely determination that transforms her kind face into something formidable. She turns to the deputies.
“Well? What are y’all doing about this? This woman and child are being stalked by a dangerous man.”
Deputy Martinez shifts uncomfortably. “Ma’am, we’ve searched the property. No sign of anyone now, but we’re filing a report.”
She turns to me, her weathered hand reaching out to squeeze my arm. “Bailey, honey, you and Sophie aren’t staying here tonight. You’re coming up to the house with me. Nobody’s getting near you two.”
“Bailey, you and Sophie can stay at my place tonight,” Gavin says, his voice low but firm. “I’ve got a state-of-the-art security system—motion sensors, cameras covering every angle of the property.”
I look up at him, still clutching Sophie who’s trembling against my chest.
“My house is on five acres with a gated entrance,” he continues. “No one gets in without me knowing about it.”
Ms. Lucy nods, her face softening slightly. “That’s a better idea. I would love to have you both at my house, but…” She glances toward Gavin. “His security setup is better than anything I’ve got.”
“It’s up to you, Bailey,” He says gently. “Whatever makes you feel safest.”
Sophie’s grip tightens around my neck again, her tears now soaking into my shirt. The weight of this decision feels crushing. Both options are infinitely better than staying here, where Matt has already proven he can reach us.
“We’ll go with Gavin,” I whisper, the decision forming even as I speak. Something about his calm confidence makes me feel like we might actually be safe.
“Let me help you pack some things,” Ms. Lucy offers.
I nod numbly and carry Sophie back to our bedroom, unwilling to set her down even for a moment. The deputies remain in the living room, speaking in hushed tones with Gavin.
“Mommy, I don’t want to be here anymore,” Sophie sobs, her little body shaking. “I’m scared.”
“I know, baby. We’re going to Gavin’s house. Remember Nugget? We’ll be safe there.” My hands shake as I try to pull clothes from drawers one-handed, Sophie refusing to let go.
“What if Daddy scares us again?” Her voice breaks on the question, and something inside me shatters.
“He won’t, sweetheart.” I kiss her tear-stained cheek, wishing I believed my own words.
Ms. Lucy appears in the doorway with an empty duffel bag. “Here, let me help.” She begins efficiently folding clothes and placing them in the bag. “What else do you need, honey?”
“Mr. Hoppy,” Sophie whimpers.
I reach for the stuffed rabbit on the bed, but Sophie’s grip tightens painfully around my neck. “Don’t let go, Mommy. Please don’t let go.”
“I won’t, baby. I’ve got you.” I struggle to maintain my composure as panic threatens to overwhelm me again.