Chapter Thirty
Nora
The last stretch of trail opened onto the wide gravel turnout where the mountain met the valley floor.
Headlights cut through the dark—a variety of vehicles, a horse trailer, and flashlights sweeping like searchlights that had finally found their target.
The air was a thick cocktail of diesel, pine, and the heavy, electric scent of relief.
Laurent and Harper were moving before we even cleared the tree line. Harper reached Untouchable first, his hands gentle as they slid down her neck, while Laurent took the reins from Evan with a quiet, respectful nod.
“Easy, girl,” Harper murmured, his voice a low vibration. “We’ve got you now.”
Laurent crouched beside her leg, his flashlight beam pinning my makeshift bandage against the darkness.
He didn’t touch it—just studied it with the eye of a man who had seen a thousand injuries.
Then he glanced up at me, his eyes crinkling at the corners in the way they only did when he was truly impressed.
“Shirt strips and a surgeon’s knot. Clean work, Nora. Real clean. The vet’s already at the barn. We’ll get her settled and iced, fed, and tucked into her stall.”
Harper straightened, brushing the mountain grit from his knees. “She’s calm. Most folks would’ve had a panicked animal on their hands. You did good.”
I swallowed hard. “She’s tougher than she looks.”
“So are you,” Laurent said simply.
He gave Evan a quick look—that silent, man-to-man acknowledgment that said everything it needed to—then led Untouchable toward the trailer with Harper at her hip. Sunny followed, his mane flipping as he strutted, looking for all the world like he was the sole reason the mission was a success.
And he wasn’t wrong.
Extra treats were in his future.
My father’s G wagon was idling at the edge of the turnout, its headlights on high, blinding and accusatory.
He stepped out but didn’t move toward me.
Not yet. His hand gripped the edge of the open door a little too tightly before he forced it to release.
His face looked as though it had been carved from the mountain itself, but his eyes .
. . his eyes were raw. He looked older than I’d ever seen him, the weight of the last few hours etched into the lines around his mouth.
Palila and Emma were near the trailer, arms wrapped around each other. Zion was leaning against the fender of his pickup. Mabel stood a little apart, her apron still tied as if she’d run straight from the kitchen without a second thought.
They weren’t staring with judgment. They were waiting.
I took a breath, stepped into the harsh circle of the headlights, and faced them.
“I’m sorry,” I said, my voice carrying through the crisp air. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
A few heads shook—a silent no apologies needed—but I couldn’t stop there.
“I’m not sorry that I went. I needed to. Alone. I’m not sure everyone will understand why, and that’s okay. But up there . . .” I looked back toward the ridge, where the black mass of the mountain seemed to be swallowing the stars. “I found something I’ll forever be grateful for.”
A voice—Palila’s, I think—floated softly through the dark. “Evie?”
I shrugged one shoulder, a small, knowing movement. “Yes. And no.”
Emma’s voice was even gentler. “Your mom?”
The question was soft, but it still stole the air from my lungs for a heartbeat. I nodded slowly.
“Yes to both,” I said. “But mostly . . . I found a piece of myself I hadn’t known was missing.”
The words hung in the air. I didn’t try to explain it further. I couldn’t—not yet. It wasn’t a story with a neat ending. It was a feeling, deep in my marrow, like I’d finally stopped apologizing for needing to breathe.
Mabel stepped forward, her boots scuffing the gravel. She hugged me tightly then looked at me with that long, steady gaze that saw straight through the Burke armor.
“You don’t have to explain a damn thing tonight, sugar,” she said. “We can see it in your eyes. You’re back.”
I looked up at Evan. He was standing a half-step behind me, his hands in his pockets, watching the scene with that quiet intensity. When our eyes met, he gave me a small, private nod—an anchor in the middle of the storm.
I reached back and held out my hand.
He didn’t hesitate. His fingers laced through mine, warm and certain.
In the background, my father cleared his throat. His gaze flicked briefly to our joined hands before shifting away.
“Drew’s back at the house,” he said, his voice sounding like it had been dragged over gravel. “Waiting in case you showed up there.”
He turned away, his shoulders tight with a thousand unspoken questions, and climbed into the driver’s side of his vehicle.
I sighed. I could love him and still choose myself. I’d learned that on the ridge.
Evan squeezed my hand.
“You want to come back to the house with me?” I asked him.
It was a simple question, but it felt monumental. I wasn’t asking him to protect me from my father. I was asking him to stand beside me while I handled my own life.
He studied me for a long beat, his thumb tracing the back of my hand. “I know you can do this on your own, Nora,” he said quietly. “But if you want me there, that’s where I’ll always be.”
My heart did something slow and bright inside my chest. I let the love shine in my eyes, let him see the full, unedited version of it. Then, I gave him a small wink.
“Then come on,” I said. “Just . . . maybe don’t sit right next to my dad. Let’s ease him into this Burke Holliston alliance.”
His laugh was low, surprised, and entirely real. He tugged me closer for a second—long enough to press a firm, warm kiss to my temple—before opening the passenger door. I slid in.
Evan chose the back seat and although I wished I was back there with him, I understood why. My father was staring straight through the windshield as if he could drive us right out of the mess we were in.
The G wagon rolled forward, gravel crunching under the tires. The lights of the valley spread out below us like a handful of diamonds tossed onto velvet.
I leaned my head against the cool glass of the window, watching the mountain recede in the side mirror.
Evan was with me, willing to weather this out together.
I suppose I could forgive him for temporarily thinking I loved Brady and not him.