Chapter 2
Chapter Two
LUKE
The stall door swings shut behind me with a solid clack. Buttercup huffs at my shoulder, warm breath against my neck, her nose bumping the brim of my hat like she's fishing for the peppermint she knows damn well is in my pocket.
"Quit begging." I slip her the candy anyway.
She crunches it, satisfied.
I drag a forearm across my brow. Mid-morning sun's already doing its work, baking the ranch in that particular Oregon gold that makes everything look softer than it is.
Hay dust catches the light. Somewhere past the paddock, Diego and Kidd are arguing about a busted water line, their voices carrying the way voices always carry when men think they're alone.
My radio crackles.
"Luke. You around?"
Gabe's voice. Clipped. Tight in a way it hasn't been since that situation with the missing cattle last summer.
I unclip the radio from my belt. "Yeah, boss. At the south stable. Buttercup needs her hooves looked at before that guided ride tomorrow."
"Leave it. Come to the main office. Now."
I pause with my thumb on the button.
Gabe doesn't do now. Gabe does when you got a minute and no rush. The one time he did do now was the morning a mare went into bad labor and we almost lost her and the foal both.
"On my way."
I clip the radio back, and give Buttercup one last stroke down the length of her nose. She watches me like she knows something I don't.
"Don't give me that look."
I cut across the back pasture. The property spreads out in every direction, three hundred and eighty acres of timber and meadow and creek.
The ranch distillery sits in a sprawling building to the east, already hosting a tour with a bachelorette party and some guy from Seattle who keeps asking if there are bears.
There are bears. But he should be more worried about the cougars.
My boots crunch gravel as I hit the path toward the main house. Already, my jaw's tightening. Whatever Gabe wants, it's gonna cut into my afternoon. I got a fence line to walk, a saddle to oil, and a pile of quiet I've been saving up for myself since sunrise.
The office is in the far wing of the main house, set apart from where distillery visitors check in. I push through the side door.
And stop.
Madison Moore is standing in front of Gabe's desk with her arms crossed, her blonde hair twisted up off her neck, her whole posture the kind of tight that happens when a lawyer's already three moves ahead of everyone in the room.
That's not what stops me.
What stops me is the woman sitting in the leather chair in the corner.
Small. Dark hair pulled back loose, like she did it without looking.
Hands folded in her lap, knuckles white.
Dressed in leggings and an oversized sweatshirt that's too warm for the weather, like she grabbed the first thing she could find and didn't care.
There's a purse at her feet. A small duffel beside it.
Her eyes lift to mine.
Jesus.
She's got this face. Sharp cheekbones, full mouth, dark eyes ringed in the kind of shadows that mean she hasn't slept in days. She looks at me the way a deer looks at a hunter. Frozen. Assessing. Deciding if I'm the thing that's about to kill her.
I clock the exits without meaning to. Old habit. Two doors, one window, no obvious threats in the room.
"Luke." Gabe's already standing. "This is Anna Kim."
I tip my hat at Anna because my mama raised me not to be a complete asshole. "Ma'am."
She doesn't answer. Just keeps looking at me.
Gabe clears his throat. "Need to talk to you outside for a minute."
"Sure."
I follow him out onto the wraparound porch. He pulls the door shut behind us, and the second it clicks, I know.
"No."
"You haven't even heard me yet."
"Don't need to."
Gabe leans against the porch rail and pinches the bridge of his nose.
He's my age, give or take. Black hair gone a little salt at the temples, amber brown eyes, the kind of quiet authority that makes men fall in line without him raising his voice.
He gave me this job when I came back from the desert with a head full of static and no plan past the next twenty-four hours. I owe him.
But I owe myself more.
"Luke."
"She's running from something. I can see it on her."
"Yeah."
"And?"
He tells me the cliff notes. Portland. Office.
Saw something she shouldn’t have, called the one lawyer friend she knows who happens to live on this ranch.
He tells me Madison's working the legal angles.
Tells me the cops aren't an option until they know who's dirty.
Tells me that Madison was about to hire some private security firm out of the city, some guys in suits with earpieces who would've stood around her looking like they were guarding the president.
"And I said no." Gabe's voice is low. "I said we got somebody here."
"Gabe."
"You."
"Goddamn it."
I pull my hat off and scrub a hand through my hair. The porch boards creak under my weight as I move to the other side of it, putting distance between us, because if I stay too close, I'm gonna say something I can't take back.
"I'm a ranch hand."
"You were a Ranger-qualified Captain."
"Was."
"Doesn't stop being true just because you stopped wearing the uniform."
I turn and look at him. "I came here so I wouldn't have to be that guy anymore. You know that. You're the only one who knows that."
"I know."
"Then why."
"Because I trust you." He says it flat. "And because some slick private contractor from the city is gonna stick out on this ranch like a sore thumb, and whoever's looking for her is gonna find her twice as fast. She needs to disappear.
You can make her disappear. Madi and I head out to Eden Ridge later today to help my brother, Caleb, set up for his big proposal to Harper, and I'm not leaving this girl with somebody I don't know. "
I breathe out through my nose.
"How long?"
"We’ll only be gone for a day and a half. Two days max. But Madi’s going to need at least two weeks to figure this out. Maybe less. She thinks she's got a line on wrapping it faster."
"Where's she gonna stay?"
"Your cabin."
I laugh. Short. Bitter. "My cabin."
"It's the farthest from the distillery. Nobody goes out there except you. No road signs. No reason for anyone to drive that deep unless they already know it exists."
"And my brother."
"Hunter's not out here."
"Yeah, well." I rub my jaw. "That's a whole separate conversation."
Gabe's voice softens. "Luke. I wouldn't ask if there was another way. A better way."
I look out past the porch. Past the paddock and the long sweep of pasture and the pines rising up against the foothills.
I picked this place because it's quiet. Because when the nightmares come, nobody hears me.
Because my cabin is one bedroom and a cot in the small spare, and a stove I cook for one on, and I like it that way.
I like knowing where every mug is. I like that the boots by the door are all mine.
I like waking up to the sound of nothing.
And now he wants me to put a twenty-something stranger inside all that.
A twenty-something stranger with eyes like the ones I just saw.
"She know you're volunteering me for this?"
"Madison told her we had somebody qualified on staff."
"Qualified."
"Luke."
"Fine." I jam my hat back on. "But she's gotta listen. She's gotta do what I tell her, when I tell her. I'm not playing Mary Poppins with somebody who wants to argue with me about whether to keep the curtains drawn."
"She'll listen."
"She doesn't look like the listening type."
"She's scared, Luke. Scared people listen if you give them a reason to trust you."
I grunt.
We go back inside.
Madison's leaned down next to Anna now, one hand on her shoulder, talking low. Anna nods at something. Tucks a piece of hair behind her ear, her fingers are shaking.
Something tugs, low in my chest. I shove it down.
"Anna." Gabe crosses the room. "This is Luke Davis. He runs most of the operations on the ranch for me. Ex-Army. He's gonna stay with you at his cabin until we figure this out."
Her head comes up.
Those eyes find me again, and this time I can't read them as fast. Fear's still there. But there's something else underneath. Something that's been holding itself together by its fingernails for maybe seventy-two hours straight and is deciding whether to let go or dig in.
She decides to dig in. I watch her do it. Watch her shoulders square. Watch her chin come up a quarter inch.
"I can get a hotel."
Madison sighs. "Anna."
"I don't need to impose on a stranger."
"You're not imposing." I cut in before I can stop myself. "You're doing what you're told."
Her eyes snap to mine. Narrow.
Yeah. Not the listening type.
"Excuse me?"
"You heard me."
"I didn't ask to be here."
"Neither did I."
Madison makes a noise that might be a laugh or might be a warning. I don't look at her.
Anna stands up. She's small. Maybe five-four in the flats she's wearing. I clear a foot on her easy. She tips her chin up higher to keep my eyes.
"You don't want me at your house."
"No ma'am."
"Then don't take me."
"Got no choice."
"Everybody's got a choice."
"You want to explain that to the guy you’re running from? Be my guest."
Her whole face changes. The color drains out of it. She sits back down fast, like her knees gave.
Ah, hell.
"Luke." Gabe's voice is quiet thunder.
I look at the floor. "Sorry."
Nobody says anything.
Madison sits on the arm of Anna's chair and puts a hand on her back, rubbing slow circles. I watch Anna breathe through whatever I just did to her and I feel like the world's biggest asshole, which I probably am.
"Anna." I keep my voice even. Gentler than I started. "I'm sorry. That was out of line."
She doesn't look at me. Just nods once, small.
Gabe jerks his head toward the door. "Luke. Help Madison with her bags."
I pick up the duffel. The duffel's light. Too light for two weeks. She didn't pack. She grabbed.