Chapter Sixteen
Diana
A twig snapped on the other side of the clearing, and for the second time today, I was scared for my life. I don’t know how long I’d been sitting here, trying to get my phone to turn on—which had gotten smashed somewhere along the way of me falling down the hill—-but hearing that twig snap had me paralyzed with cold, harsh fear.
I’d managed to pull myself up and hobble to the other side of the small clearing before sliding to the ground against a tree. From there, I finally mustered up the courage to look at my ankle. There was no blood, but I could feel the swelling inside my boot. I didn’t have the energy to try and remove it. Instead, I assessed the rest of my body for injuries. My knee was cut, my leggings ripped in various places, but the biggest tear was at my knee. The wound was caked with dirt and dried blood. There was a significant cut on my right forearm, but nothing too major. My neck and head felt fine, but I still wasn’t ruling out a concussion.
I kept my eyes on the shadows, looking for anything bear-shaped, and when nothing came, my shoulders sagged. I tilted my head back, looking up the tree, memorizing its beauty instead of focusing on the throbbing pain. “You’re okay, Diana,” I whispered, my voice trembling. “Everything is going to be okay. Caleb knows you’re out here, and someone will come for you.”
Not very convincing, Di.
Above, a cloud moved over the sun, taking its warm rays with it. I blinked away my somehow endless stream of tears to look up again, watching the turning leaves gently shift in the breeze. The green leaves were slowly being taken over by bright oranges, stunning golds, and deep reds. Even though I was in immense agony, and most likely my ankle was broken, at least I was surrounded by beauty. I looked over to my pack, my mouth dry, my stomach rumbling. I’d brought a protein bar to eat at the top of the mountain, along with a bottle of water. I didn’t know how long I was going to be out here, and I definitely didn’t need to open that bar if the bear was still around.
Something landed on a branch above me, the wood cracking. I looked back up to find the branch swaying harshly, disturbing the breeze and rocking the top of the tree in the opposite direction. A second later, the same hawk I’d seen before starting this disastrous hike was looking down at me, its yellow eyes bright in contrast to the now gray skies above.
“Hi,” I croaked, giving the animal a smile. God, he or she was gorgeous.
The bird blinked, watching me with an eerie stillness that sent shivers across my arms, down my legs. It cocked its head to the side and from this angle, it looked as if he was frowning at me. “Great, even the hawk knows I’m a disappointment,” I mumbled.
“Diana!” a deep voice roared, cutting through the air like a blade.
I righted my head again, a gasp leaving me as my eyes landed on a cowboy emerging from the trees—tall, broad. His hat kept his face shrouded in darkness, but I could feel his eyes, the heat of them.
He was burning me alive.
“Mags,” I rasped, trying to sit up more.
“Don’t move a fuckin’ inch,” he snarled as I caught a glimpse of his white teeth.
I froze, my eyes going wide. “But—”
He was nearly to me when he barked my name, causing me to jump. I clamped my mouth shut, watching him, and it wasn’t until he was towering over me, chest heaving, jaw tight, that he growled, “Never, in my thirty-six years of life have I been so fuckin’ terrified.”
My heart squeezed.
“Never, Diana,” he clipped, lowering to his haunches in front of me, his eyes never leaving mine.
“Mags—”
“Got blood on you,” he growled. “Covered in blood and dirt, Diana.” Those dark eyes dropped, scanning my body, and when they snapped back up to mine, he continued. “What the hell were you thinking?”
“There was a bear,” I whispered, my voice shaking.
“I’m aware,” he clipped, eyes hard. “Saw him three clicks back. You don’t ever— ever run from a fuckin’ grizzly. You should know that.”
I did. I did know that.
Suddenly, I was coated in shame, feeling small for the first time in a long time. Unable to handle his stare, I broke it, looking down to my lap. “I got scared,” I whispered. “I-I was petrified.”
The pain I’d been drowning in for the last few hours—or however long—-did nothing to distract me from the utter stupidity I now felt. The truth was, after all my years hiking this mountain, I’d never seen a bear of any kind on the ranch. Wolves, sure, but they didn’t bother me. Bears? Bears scared the hell out of me. I’d had a client get mauled by one a few years ago, and seeing him, his skin ripped to shredded in that hospital bed gave me nightmare for over a month.
Mags’ rough fingers gripped my chin, gently urging me to lift my head. My lips parted, finding him inches from my face now as he carefully avoided touching me anywhere else. “Fear, Firefly, leads to stupid mistakes,” he rumbled. “Fear leads to death.”
Glass appeared in my throat, and I could no longer speak. All I could do was stare at this cowboy, the one who’d made me feel alive and killed me all in the same breath. His eyes scanned every inch of my face. “Never been so grateful to whatever higher power is up there,” he murmured. “Never been so fuckin’ grateful and so fucking pissed at you.”
A tear, hot as fire, leaked onto my cheek, sliding down, burning me almost as much as his touch. He watched it, his eyes still hard, still ice cold. He dropped my chin and rose back up to his feet, pulling out a walkie. “Jigs, this is Mags, Over,” he said, looking over his shoulder, checking our surroundings.
Static filled the air before I heard the old man’s voice. “Mags. Thank God. Did you find her? Is she okay? Over.”
Mags looked down at me, his jaw tight. “Found her. No, she isn’t okay. Taking her with me. Send Denver. Over.”
“Copy. Over and out.”
He pocketed the walkie and pulled out his pistol, pulling back the clip and loading it. “Can you walk?” he asked, not looking at me.
It took great effort to answer, and by the time I did, it looked as if he was about to lose his patience. “No,” I croaked. “I think—I think I broke my ankle.”
“You didn’t. If you did, you’d still be screaming in pain or passed out from it,” he confirmed, twisting the gun and holding the handle out to me. “Take this.”
I looked down at it and then up at him. “Why are you—”
“Can’t hold a gun and carry you at the same time. Need you to hold that just in case we see the bear again,” he cut me off.
My stomach twisted. “I’m not shooting that baby,” I breathed in horror.
He stared at me. “Diana, that bear chased you down, and you’re on the damn ground, covered in blood and dirt.”
“So you’ve mentioned,” I quipped.
In a flash, he was in front of me again, my jaw engulfed in his hand as he snarled, “You aren’t supposed to ever be covered in blood and dirt, Diana Harper.”
I flinched and opened my mouth to speak, but he stopped me, his fingers tightening, digging into my cheeks.
“You’re colors and smiles. You’re beauty and grace. You are clean and whole,” he pushed through his teeth, his body shaking with fury, my heart seconds away from stopping. “You do not belong on the ground covered in blood and dirt.”
For only a moment, the universe allowed me to have a glimpse at the man I’d fallen for all those years ago. Underneath his tainted silence, his anger, his shield was nothing but dread. It lingered in his dark pools, beckoning me to join, to drag me down into the depths of his broken soul. It challenged me, knowing that it would take me years—perhaps the rest of my life--to put him back together, to make him whole again.
Mags shoved the gun into my hands, the barrel against his chest. “If I was half sane, I might make you pull the trigger, baby,” he murmured, the darkness in his eyes changing as they dropped to my lips as I stiffened. “Might ask you to put me out of my misery so I don’t have to see you like this anymore.”
“Mags,” I rasped, feeling the weight of the weapon in my hands, the raw, unchecked power of it.
“Thought I was used to the pain,” he continued, as if he hadn’t broken what was left of me. “But right here, right now, this pain is unlike anything I’ve ever felt.”
I sucked in a breath, more tears falling now.
“Killin’ me,” he whispered, his voice more jagged than more. “Killin’ me every single day, Firefly.”
“Please,” I begged. I don’t know what for, though. For mercy. For his kiss. For his heart. For him to end my agony. For a chance to make him whole again, to prove he was worthy of it.
He slowly dropped his hand then. “This might hurt like a bitch, so forgive me,” he said gruffly, shifting to my side, getting ready to pick me up.
“My pack,” I rushed out, looking over to it.
Without a word, he went to grab it, putting it on his back before coming back to me. “Lift away from the tree,” he ordered gruffly. I did as he instructed, feeling his strong arms slide around me and under my knees.
The number on the scale I saw this morning popped into my head, reminding me of all the damaged I’d done these last few weeks. “Are you sure you can—”
His eyes cut to mine, sharp as a blade.
“Never mind,” I squeaked.
Then, I was in the air—in his arms.
I expected him to take the path I’d originally was set to take before falling down the hill, but he didn’t. Instead, he veered in the opposite direction, cutting across the clearing and not making a sound. I stared up at him, my arms wrapped around his neck, feeling his heat, his strength.
“Thank you,” I whispered to his handsome profile.
He said nothing for a long while, carefully weaving me through the trees, making sure not even a leaf brushed my head. I took his silence as my answer and focused on the path he took; it wasn’t a marked trail and I was lost.
“Don’t thank me again,” he said, his words so low, I’d almost missed them.
My head snapped up. “What?” I rasped.
He looked down at me, keeping his steady pace. “You heard me.”
Silence fell over us once more. The only thing I could hear was my heart thundering in my ears as it climbed up my throat. Not even the songbirds could distract me from the storm brewing inside me. Then, a few minutes later, we emerged on the other side of the mountain, the bark of some of the trees still charred and blackened. Suddenly, the heat of the sun that had poked out from the clouds did nothing to chase away the chill skating over me. I shivered in Mags’ arms, my eyes scanning all around.
“I never come over here,” I said softly, my ankle throbbing more now than before. I winced, and Mags came to stop.
“What is it?” he demanded.
“My ankle.”
He twisted his neck to look at it, a grunt rumbling up from his chest. “Do you like those boots?”
“Y-yes.”
He looked back to me, studying me for a moment before he muttered, “I’ll buy you some more then.”
Fear coiled around my throat. “Is it bad?”
“Won’t know until I cut it off you,” he answered, moving again, stepping onto Jane Langston’s trail, the small creek flowing, healthy and strong. Even in a drought, Jane’s creek would flow. This was where her spirit lingered, where her soul danced and sang. After the fire, during one of many check-ins with Valerie, she’d told me about seeing Denver and Mason’s mom while she was passed out from the smoke. She said it was the most surreal experience, and months later, Mason’s wife, Harmony, had her own experience with Jane. She watched over her boys, loving them always.
Jane Langston, the angel of Hallow Ranch.
An engine hummed in the distance, and I squinted, making out a four wheeler on the other side of the tree line, Denver sitting on top. Then, I heard horses and panic swallowed me whole.
Mags was going to leave me with them. He was going to leave me.
“Mags?”
Something in my voice made him slow, coming to a full stop just before we exited the forest. “What is it?” he asked, looking at me.
My hand on the back of his neck shifted, snaking around and up to cup his cheek, the rough hair of his beard scratching my palm. He stiffened, his jaw jumping underneath my hand. “Don’t leave me,” I pleaded. “Please, don’t. Not now.”
“Not going to let you out of my sight, Diana,” he murmured roughly.
I nodded, relief washing over me like rain shower in the dead heat of summer.
“Mags!”
Both of our heads turned, finding Denver walking through the trees, his gray eyes filled with worry. “Diana,” he pushed out, rushing over to us. “Thank fuck.” He gently touched my cheek, his face twisted with a mix of fear and concern as he took in the state of me. “What the hell happened?” he asked, looking at Mags.
“I was stupid,” I began, and Denver’s eyes cut back to me. “There was a bear—”
“—I’m going to kill it,” a voice said from behind Denver. “First our cattle, and now this.”
Mason appeared a second later, looking more pissed off than his brother. His features softened slightly at the sight of me.
“No one is killing that baby,” I snapped, pain be damned.
I felt all three pairs of eyes on me then, Mags’ arms tightening.
“That bear is not a baby,” Mags deadpanned. “It’s fully grown.”
“It’s an innocent creature,” I countered.
Denver looked to the heaven’s. “Jesus fuckin’ Christ, you sound like Val.”
“And Harm,” Mason mumbled. “She told me she’d divorce me if I ever killed a wolf or a bear.”
“I’ll sue you all,” I warned. “Leave that baby alone. It just scared me, and I was in fight or flight.”
The Langston brothers glared at me. “You ran?” Denver quipped at the same time Mason said, “Diana, you never run from a grizzly.”
“That’s enough,” Mags snarled. Both men looked at him before he started rattling off orders. “Need to get her out of here so I can look at her ankle. Mason, go get her car. It’s on the west side. Bring it to my cabin. Tell one of the twins to get Midnight. Denver, help me with Diana.” Before they could respond, he moved, walking through them and out of the forest. On the horizon, I saw another horse—Beau’s---barreling towards us, a river of hair flying behind its rider.
Abbie.
“Easy, Spirit, easy,” she cooed as the horse came to stop a few feet from us. Her brown eyes flashed as they landed on me. She swung off the steed with ease before running to us. “Diana, what the hell?” she breathed out, grabbing my face and sweeping some of my hair back. “What happened?”
“Abbie.” Mags’ voice was gentle but laced with impatience as she looked up at him. “Need to get her to my cabin, yeah? You can either help me with that or move.”
His cabin?
Mags was taking me to his cabin.
“Of course,” she said. “Whatever you both need, I’m here. The rest of the family will meet us there.”
What?
Mags was moving again, heading to the four wheeler. “Denver,” he called, turning around.
“Right here,” the ranch owner replied as his brother took off on his horse, heading back towards the main house.
“Take her for a moment,” Mags ordered.
“I can stand—”
Mags cut me off as he growled to Denver, “She doesn’t touch the ground, do you understand me?”
Oh, God.
I was transferred into Denver’s arms, and as Mags got onto the vehicle, I slowly looked to my friend. His eyes weren’t on me. No, they were zeroed in on his oldest friend, the gray in his eyes swirling with bewilderment.
Oh, God. He knew. Oh my God. He saw right through Mags .
Denver then looked at me, his brows coming together. I’d known Denver for as long time, and most of that time, he’d never scare me. Right now, in the moment, with that look painted on his face, I was scared shitless.
He saw right through both of us.
“Den,” I muttered, my chest beginning to heave.
He said nothing, staring at me as if he was seeing me in a new light. Abbie appeared then. “We gotta get her to the cabin, Denver,” she said softly. That seemed to snap him out of it, and he inhaled sharply through his nose and nodded. I looked to Abbie as he walked over to Mags.
“Thank you,” I mouthed to her.
She gave me a small smile. “I’ll follow.”
“We’ll follow,” Denver corrected as he transferred me back to Mags. I tried to move to put both legs on either side of the seat, but Mags stopped me.
“No,” he stated, keeping me in a bridal style hold, my legs draped over his stretched out arm.
I looked down to the handle bars and then back up to him. “Are you sure you can drive like this?”
“Drove through a field littered with fuckin’ land mines,” he answered, looking over to his boss and tipping his hat.
Then, we were gone, heading to his cabin.
I may not have realized it right then, but this was the moment my life changed. Nothing—and I mean nothing--would ever be the same.