Chapter 4 Rowan
ROWAN
The ranch always felt different after someone left. Quieter, like the land was listening for footsteps that weren’t there anymore. But after Tex rode off, the silence felt heavier than usual. Almost charged. Like the air still held the echo of his engine and the weight of everything Tex had said.
I stood in the middle of the yard, arms wrapped around myself, staring at the fence we’d just fixed.
The wire gleamed new and tight in the morning sun, but all I could see was the pin he’d found.
That small piece of metal had cracked something open inside me and fear, anger, and confusion were all tangled together.
I walked back toward the barn, boots crunching over the frost-softened ground. The horses shifted inside, sensing my mood. Animals always knew. People pretended better.
Inside, the familiar smell of hay and leather wrapped around me, grounding me. I grabbed a brush and started working through my mare’s coat with long strokes in a steady rhythm. It usually calmed me, but today it barely made a dent.
“Sorry, Daisy,” I said to her.
Someone had been on my land. Someone had cut my fences and harmed my animals. And now Tex—quiet, steady Tex with those too-sharp eyes, was supposedly going to figure it all out.
I didn’t want him here. I didn’t want the Kings anywhere near my life.
I didn’t want to be anywhere near their world; in fact, I wanted to be far away from the violence and the lines you couldn’t uncross once you stepped over them.
But the truth I didn’t want to admit was simpler still: I felt safer with him here.
That thought made my stomach twist because I didn’t like to rely on anyone.
I didn’t trust anyone to show up when it mattered.
People left and people disappointed me. But mostly, people died.
The ranch was the only thing that stayed.
Ever present and solid. It was my sanctuary from a world I had never felt a part of.
A world I had never felt wanted in. Until now, at least.
I set the brush down and leaned both hands on the stall door, breathing hard.
“Get it together,” I muttered to myself.
But my mind kept circling back to him. Tex. His voice, low and certain.
‘I’m keeping you alive.’
The way he’d looked at me when he said it, like he meant it. Like he’d already decided I was his personal responsibility and he would go to war…for me.
I hated that. But God help me, I didn’t hate it nearly enough.
I stepped outside again, needing the cold Colorado air. The mountains rose in the distance, steady and unchanging. I’d always taken comfort in that. Today, however, they felt like walls closing in.
Tex was right about one thing: whoever was doing this wasn’t going to stop at fences.
Things had started out small and explainable, but they had been gradually getting worse.
Last week it had finally occurred to me—and Lord knows why it hadn’t before then—that someone was doing this on purpose.
It wasn’t a succession of explainable incidents. It was an act of malevolence.
I wrapped my arms tighter around myself, staring down the long dirt road he’d ridden out on.
“Don’t get attached,” I whispered. “Everyone leaves.”
I sighed and got back to work, trying to push away thoughts of Tex and the Kings and all the damage that they could do to me and this ranch, and I let the silence fall back over me.
The quiet didn’t last long though.
I’d barely finished sweeping the barn aisle—more for something to do than because it needed it—when the horses’ ears snapped forward in unison like a warning. Their bodies went still, muscles tight, eyes fixed on the open doorway. I froze too.
A truck engine rumbled up the drive, slow and heavy, and something about it made my pulse kick hard. My nerves were already jangled, but now they were going crazy as I watched the truck grow larger as it got closer.
Tex had only been gone an hour or two, and it felt too soon for him to be back.
As was my headstrong way, I stepped out of the barn, wiping my palms on the front of my jeans, as I tried to look like I wasn’t already bracing myself for trouble.
I knew my shotgun was within reach just inside the barn door where it always was.
I was a woman who came prepared, after all, but I had never had a reason to use it before.
I’d never needed to threaten anyone with it, that was for certain.
The truck rolled into view. It was a dented black pickup with mud caked along the sides and a cracked windshield. No plates on the front. The kind of vehicle that didn’t want to be identified, and it stopped ten yards from me.
The driver’s door opened and a man climbed out.
He was mid-forties, with thick shoulders, sun-leathered skin, and a beard that looked like it had been trimmed with a pocketknife.
He wore a faded denim jacket and a baseball cap pulled low over his eyes, but even from here I could see the way his eyes swept over the property, assessing everything.
He paused briefly at the fixed-up fence, a slow smile climbing his face, and my stomach tightened.
I didn’t know him. But he sure knew me. I could feel it in my bones.
From under his lowered cap, he gave me a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. Something blazed inside of them, but it wasn’t anything friendly. “Morning, Miss Hale.”
He had an accent, though I couldn’t pinpoint it. It definitely wasn’t anything local, though.
My fingers curled into fists. “Can I help you?”
“Just checking in,” he said, leaning against his truck like he had no cares. “Heard you’ve been having some trouble out here.”
My heart thudded once, hard. “Who told you that?”
“Oh, word gets around.” His gaze drifted to the fence line we’d just repaired. “Looks like that was a real headache.”
I didn’t answer and I didn’t move. I wouldn’t give him anything. Instead I cocked my hip and glared at him with as much anger as I could muster as I pushed my fear away. “It was nothing I couldn’t handle.”
He pushed off the truck and took a slow step closer. “A woman alone on this much land, it’s a lot to manage, no?”
I kept my voice steady. “I manage just fine.”
“Sure you do.”
“And who says I’m alone?” I added.
His smile widened, revealing perfectly straight teeth.
He was a handsome man, and I wondered how it was possible that someone with so much ill intent could be handsome like that.
He was the sort of man that had all the charisma and the looks, and yet he’d still decided that his path in life would be…
this. He’d chosen this life, this world for himself.
He hadn’t stumbled into it. He thrived on the danger and the violence.
It pulsed beneath his skin, desperate to be set free.
And that made him the most dangerous man out there.
“What do you want?” I asked, my tone showing impatience. “I’m busy.”
“Sometimes, Miss Hale, it’s smart to have friends. People who can keep an eye on things for you. Help you.”
There it was. The offer. The threat wrapped in politeness.
“I don’t need anything from you,” I said with a small laugh. “And I certainly don’t need any help.”
He tilted his head. “You sure about that? Because from where I’m standing, it sure looks like you could use a friend.”
My pulse hammered, but I didn’t back up. As my mom used to say, I was too stubborn for my own good at times. “Get off my property.”
He chuckled. “Feisty. I like them feisty. But remember, you can’t always be here—and when you’re not here, things might happen.” He clucked his tongue almost apologetically. “You know how it is on these old ranches.”
I reached inside the barn and grabbed my shotgun. “Get. Off. My. Property,” I said with more force as I aimed the gun at him.
His eyes hardened. Just a flicker, but enough to tell me the smile had been a mask.
“All right,” he said, raising his hands like he was doing me a favor. “No need to get worked up. Just thought I’d stop by and introduce myself.”
“You didn’t give me your name.”
He paused, his dark eyes boring into mine and sending a chill across my skin. “Oh, that wasn’t the sort of introduction I was thinking of, if I’m being honest with you.”
That chilled me more than anything else he’d said, because it was the threat of something unspoken. He climbed back into his truck, the engine growling to life. Before he pulled away, he leaned out the window.
“Be careful out here, Rowan. Wouldn’t want anything unfortunate to happen to a woman as pretty as you.” He looked me up and down lazily, taking his time over every curve I had, purposefully trying to make me feel uncomfortable. But I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.
The truck rolled down the drive, dust kicking up behind it.
I stood there long after it disappeared, breath tight, hands clenched into fists at my sides, my body shaking with an anger that I refused to call fear.
Someone was pushing me, and someone wanted me scared.
And for the first time since Tex left, I wished he hadn’t.
The dust hadn’t even finished drifting back to the ground when the quiet hit me again, sharp and unnatural, like the whole ranch was holding its breath.
I stood there in the yard, fists still clenched, pulse still thudding in my ears, trying to make sense of the man’s visit.
His voice lingered like the aftertaste of something rotten.
Finally, I forced myself to move. Standing still felt too much like being prey.
I walked the fence line again, keeping my gun with me while I checked posts I already knew were fine, scanning the tree line for movement I prayed I wouldn’t see. The cold bit at my cheeks, but it didn’t clear the feeling crawling under my skin.
Someone had sent him.
By the time I circled back to the house, my hands had stopped shaking but the anger hadn’t. It sat low and hot in my chest, steadier than fear, easier to hold.
Inside, I locked the door. Something I rarely bothered with in daylight and went straight to the kitchen window.
From there I could see the road, the barn, and the stretch of pasture where the fence had been cut.
Everything looked normal and peaceful. Like the day hadn’t just shifted something fundamental.
I hated that he’d gotten to me, but more, I hated that he’d known he had.
My phone buzzed on the counter, and I leaned my gun against the counter and picked up the phone, staring at the number I didn’t recognize. It stopped and then started again almost immediately, and I frowned at it as it clicked off and then immediately rang once again.
This time I answered, my jaw tight. “Rowan Hale.”
A pause of silence. Not static, but breathing.
Then a voice, low and familiar. “You should’ve been nicer to me.”
My stomach dropped, but I didn’t speak. I didn’t give him anything.
“You think you can handle this alone?” he asked. “You can’t. And the people you think are helping you, they’re not. No one can help you. The best thing you can do is leave, before you regret not leaving.”
My grip tightened on the phone. “Who is this?”
Another pause. “Just a friend trying to give you some friendly advice before it’s too late.” A soft click followed as the line went dead.
I stared at the now blank screen, my breath shallow, the silence in the house suddenly too loud.
But the worst part, the part I didn’t want to admit even to myself, was that Tex had been right.
Whoever was doing this wasn’t going to stop.
They were escalating. For the first time since this had all begun, I let in the fear of what might happen, and my body began to tremble.
I set the phone down carefully, like it might explode.
For a long moment I stood there, palms pressed to the counter, trying to steady my breathing and quit my shaking. The ranch had been my refuge, my anchor. Now it felt like a target on my back painted in broad daylight.
I hated needing anyone, but I knew right then that I needed him—them. I needed the club.
They might have somehow dragged me into something I didn’t want to be a part of, but I was smart enough to know when I needed them to help keep me safe and to protect my livelihood.
Before I could talk myself out of it, I grabbed my keys and headed for the door.
If Tex thought he was protecting me, and keeping me alive, he was about to get his chance. Because I had no choice any longer. I had to ask the Kings for their protection. Despite every muscle in my body protesting against it.