3. Logan
Logan
The second I hit Redhaven Ridge, Montana, I know I’m screwed.
Not because of the looks.
Not because of the whispers.
Because of the silence.
It’s too quiet.
Main street should be alive—trucks rolling through, people crowding outside Susie’s Diner, someone always waving whether I want them to or not.
Today?
Nothing.
Heads turn.
Conversations cut off.
Phones come out.
“Yeah,” I mutter, tightening my grip on the wheel. “That’s about right.”
The headlines beat me here.
Of course they did.
Small towns don’t wait for truth. They run on story.
And I handed them a damn good one.
I drag a hand through my hair, jaw tight.
“Logan Wilder sleeps with the enemy.”
The words land heavier now that I’m home.
Because out here—
enemy isn’t a metaphor.
I take the turn toward Silver Spur without slowing.
The ranch stretches out ahead of me, wide and familiar. The sight of it hits hard—fences, barns, horses and cattle across various fields that’s been Wilder ground longer than any of my brothers and I have been alive.
Home.
And I just dragged a Mercer into it.
The truck barely stops before I’m out.
Boots hit dirt. Gravel crunches. My pulse kicks up, not from the drive—but from what’s waiting.
The front door swings open.
Grayson steps out.
He doesn’t yell.
That’s worse.
Arms crossed. Jaw locked. Eyes already done with me.
Behind him, Cole leans against the frame, quiet and unreadable.
Luke stands farther back.
Watching.
Always watching.
“Morning,” I say.
Too casual. Too late.
Grayson doesn’t move. “Tell me I’m wrong.”
No greeting.
No room to breathe.
“That depends,” I say. “What exactly you think you saw?”
His eyes go cold. “I think I saw my brother walking out of a Vegas gala with a Mercer.”
There it is.
No easing in.
No soft edge.
Just the truth—sharp and public.
I shrug, even though it feels tight. “Looks worse than it is.”
Cole exhales, low. “Does it?”
He doesn’t believe me.
Doesn’t even try to pretend.
Luke steps forward just enough to close the distance. “You don’t deny it.”
“Didn’t say that.”
“Didn’t say anything,” Luke counters.
That’s Luke.
Quiet pressure. No escape.
I drag a hand through my hair. “Look, it’s not what it looks like.”
Grayson laughs once. Hard. “Then what is it?”
I open my mouth.
Close it.
Because there isn’t a version of this that sounds better than what’s already out there.
And they know it.
Grayson steps down off the porch. “You went to Vegas to represent this ranch.”
Each word hits.
“To protect what Dad and our forefathers built.”
Another step.
“To prove we’re not some weak target for developers looking to carve this place up.”
Now he’s in front of me.
“And you come back tied to the Mercer name? The same damn name that’s been trying for the force us to lose the ranch for their luxury development.”
There it is.
Not the woman.
Not the night.
The name.
I hold his stare. “I didn’t plan it.”
Cole pushes off the doorway. “You expect us to believe that?”
“I expect you to know I’m not stupid enough to team up with them.”
Luke’s voice cuts in, low and steady. “You don’t have to team up with someone to be used by them.”
That lands.
Hard.
Because it’s exactly what this feels like.
Grayson exhales slowly. “Do you have any idea what this looks like?”
“Yeah,” I snap. “I do.”
“Then say it.”
Silence stretches.
Heavy.
Because I know exactly what he wants.
I swallow.
“It looks like I screwed up.”
Grayson’s jaw tightens. “That’s one way to put it.”
I drag a hand through my hair again, frustration spiking.
“I handed them a damn good one.”
My jaw locks.
“Logan Wilder sleeps with the enemy.”
The words sit between us.
Ugly.
Final.
Cole’s gaze sharpens. Luke’s doesn’t shift—but I see the weight land.
Grayson steps closer. “You know what that name means here?”
Yeah.
I do.
But he says it anyway.
“For anyone who forgot—Mercer’s been circling this land for months. Thornton didn’t act alone.”
Dale Thornton.
Our neighbor.
Convicted.
Sabotage, property damage, everything he could do to drive the value of this ranch down so someone else could buy it cheap.
Someone with money.
Someone with plans.
Cole’s voice cuts in, quieter but Quinn. “Developers tied to Mercer were lined up to move the second we slipped.”
Luke adds, “Thornton takes the fall. Mercer walks.”
Because they always do.
I feel it settle heavier in my chest.
Grayson keeps going. “And when that didn’t work?”
I don’t answer.
I don’t need to.
Cole does it for me.
“He tried a different angle.”
My jaw tightens.
Rose.
Cole’s girlfriend.
Smart. Strong. Runs the equine therapy program on our land.
And Evan Mercer had the nerve to try to get close to her.
Use her.
Get inside the ranch through her.
“He didn’t just want the land,” Cole says, voice low now. “He wanted access.”
Luke’s gaze flicks to me. “And somehow, you just handed him another way in.”
There’s no accusation in his tone.
That’s worse.
Because it means he’s already thinking ahead.
I look out over the ranch.
Everything we’ve fought for.
Everything that almost got taken once already.
“I didn’t bring them here,” I say.
“No,” Cole replies. “But you brought them closer.”
That one cuts deep.
I clench my jaw. “You think I don’t know that?”
“I think you didn’t think,” Grayson fires back.
There it is.
The truth nobody bothers softening.
Reckless.
Unreliable.
The brother they don’t trust when it counts.
I laugh, but it’s hollow. “Right. Because that’s all I ever am, right?”
“Don’t,” Grayson warns.
“No—say it.” Heat rises fast now. “I’m the screwup. The wildcard. The one you send to smile and shake hands while you handle everything that actually matters.”
“Logan—”
“I know exactly what you think of me,” I cut in. “Don’t pretend this changes anything.”
Silence drops hard.
Because I said it.
Because they didn’t.
Grayson’s expression shifts—tight, conflicted.
“That’s not what this is about.”
“Then what is it about?”
“Responsibility,” he says flatly. “Something this ranch doesn’t survive without.”
That hits.
Because he’s right.
And because it’s exactly what I’ve been trying to prove I’m capable of.
Luke steps in before it goes further. “Enough.”
We both turn.
He looks between us. Calm. Measured.
“Yelling doesn’t fix this.”
Grayson exhales, stepping back.
Cole stays still, eyes locked on me.
Luke focuses on me and I can see he’s changed to Sheriff mode. “Start from the beginning.”
I hesitate.
Not because I don’t want to talk.
Because I don’t trust the answers yet.
“I met her at the event,” I say. “We talked. It got heated.”
“That’s one way to put it,” Cole mutters.
“I didn’t know who she was at first,” I add.
That shifts things.
Grayson’s head snaps up. “You didn’t know?”
“No. Not until this morning.”
Cole studies me harder now.
“And when you did?”
“I saw the same headlines you did.”
Luke’s gaze sharpens. “You think it’s random?”
I think about Quinn.
About the way she looked at the phone.
Calm.
Too calm.
“No,” I say. “It’s too clean. Too fast.”
Grayson nods once. “Evan Mercer.”
Not a question.
I nod.
Cole swears under his breath.
Luke’s expression goes still. Focused.
“Then we don’t react,” Luke says. “Not yet.”
Grayson looks back at me. “You’re done being alone on this.”
That should feel like backup.
Instead, it feels like control.
I nod anyway. “Yeah.”
Cole tilts his head. “You still talking to her?”
That hits harder than it should.
I think about her in that suite.
Calm.
Controlled.
Like she already knew.
“Not yet,” I say.
“That’s not what I asked.”
I hold his stare.
“Yeah,” I admit.
Grayson exhales sharply. “Damn it, Logan—”
“I’m not cutting that off,” I snap. “Not if she’s not part of this.”
Luke watches me carefully. “And if she is?”
I don’t hesitate.
“Then I’ll be the one closest to her when she slips.”
Silence again.
Different now.
Measured.
Grayson doesn’t like it.
Cole definitely doesn’t trust it.
Luke considers it.
Finally—he nods. “Then we play it smart.”
Grayson drags a hand through his hair. “You don’t move without telling us first.”
“Fine.”
Cole’s eyes stay locked on mine. “And you don’t forget what’s at stake.”
Like I could.
Like I don’t feel it in every breath.
I glance out over Silver Spur again.
Everything Dad built.
Everything we nearly lost once already.
And for the first time since Vegas—
the weight lands where it belongs.
On me.
I straighten, shoulders squaring.
“Then we don’t lose.”
Grayson watches me.
Cole studies me.
Luke waits.
And this time—
I mean it.
Because whatever this is—
whatever game Evan Mercer just started—
I’m already in it.
And I’m not walking away.
My phone buzzes.
Unknown number.
I glance down.
If you want answers, cowboy, come alone.
My pulse spikes.
Then I see the photo attached.
Quinn.
Standing outside Susie’s Diner.
In Redhaven Ridge.
Right now.
And just like that—
this isn’t Vegas anymore.
It’s here.