35. Beast
BEAST
By sunrise, I had a plan.
Not a good plan.
A necessary one.
Sadie stood in the kitchen doorway wearing one of my shirts.
The sight should have distracted me.
Normally, it would have.
But all I could see was the fear she was trying to hide.
The coffee cup shook slightly in her hands.
Not enough for anyone else to notice.
Enough for me.
“You should sit down,” I told her.
“I’m fine.”
“No, you’re not.”
Her chin lifted.
“I don’t want him to win.”
The words hit harder than they should have.
Because Gerald had already taken too much.
Her sleep.
Her peace.
Her ability to walk outside without looking over her shoulder.
I crossed the kitchen.
Took the cup from her hands.
Set it on the counter.
Then I put my hands on either side of her face.
“Listen to me.”
Her eyes met mine.
“He doesn’t win.”
“But he got onto the ranch.”
“Once.”
Her breath caught.
“He will never do it again.”
The promise came out low.
Final.
I meant every word.
Sadie reached up.
Wrapped her fingers around my wrists.
“You can’t go after him alone.”
“I’m not.”
That wasn’t completely true.
Wolf and Trigger would be nearby.
Sheriff Cooper would know what I was doing.
The ranch hands would keep watch here.
But finding Gerald?
That was mine.
He had come onto Sadie’s land.
Stood beneath her window.
Watched her sleep.
He had crossed a line he could never uncross.
And now?
Now I was the hunter.
Wolf met me outside an hour later.
Trigger leaned against his truck beside him.
Both men looked tired.
Both men looked ready.
“You find anything?” Wolf asked.
I held up the picture I had taken of the boot prints.
“Fresh tracks. Men’s boots. Same size as Gerald’s.”
Trigger’s jaw tightened.
“He was under her window?”
“Yes.”
Nobody spoke for a moment.
The morning wind moved through the pasture.
Somewhere behind us, Sadie’s dad started an old tractor.
Normal ranch sounds.
Normal life.
Except nothing was normal anymore.
Wolf looked toward the road.
“We’ll find him.”
“I know.”
Trigger folded his arms.
“Where do we start?”
I looked at the faded tire tracks near the fence.
Gerald had parked somewhere close.
Far enough away that we couldn’t see him.
Close enough that he could walk in.
That meant he needed cover.
An old ranch road.
A hunting blind.
An abandoned shed.
Somewhere he could hide his truck and watch the property.
“He didn’t drive straight back to town,” I said.
Wolf glanced at me.
“You think he’s staying close?”
“I think he wants to be close.”
Trigger muttered a curse.
I crouched beside the tracks again.
The ground was dry.
Hard-packed.
But Gerald had made mistakes.
His boots had dragged near the fence.
He had stepped in mud by the drainage ditch.
And his truck tires had cut deeper into the dirt than they should have.
Heavy load.
Maybe supplies.
Maybe something worse.
I followed the tracks to the edge of the pasture.
Then stopped.
The trail disappeared onto the county road.
Wolf looked at me.
“Now what?”
I stared down the empty stretch of road.
Gerald thought he was smart.
He thought hiding in the dark made him dangerous.
But he wasn’t trained.
He wasn’t disciplined.
He was a coward with a temper.
The only people he knew how to frighten were women who had once trusted him.
He had no idea what happened when someone like me started looking.
“We find out where he buys gas.”
Trigger’s expression sharpened.
“Where he eats.”
“Where he sleeps.”
Wolf nodded slowly.
“Who he talks to.”
“Exactly.”
Because Gerald would make mistakes.
Men like him always did.
They got angry.
They got careless.
They got desperate.
And desperate men left trails.
I looked back toward the ranch house.
Sadie stood in the kitchen window.
Watching me.
Trusting me.
I lifted one hand.
She lifted hers in return.
Then I turned toward my truck.
Wolf and Trigger followed.
Gerald had spent years believing Sadie was alone.
He had spent one night believing he could sneak onto her ranch.
Now he was going to learn something different.
He was not the hunter.
He was the thing being hunted.