26. Val
TWENTY-SIX
VAL
Wiping the sweat from my brow, I looked out onto the pasture of Redemption Ranch.
It had officially been my home for over four months.
Summer warmth was already waning to cooler days as we approached September.
In the distance, the very tips of the trees were losing their bright green and giving way to muted yellows.
It wouldn’t be long until fall swept in.
Sometimes fall in Chicago was pretty, with golds and reds splashed across the trees, but more often than not we took a nosedive into winter and everything just looked brown and gross.
Here, it was easy to see how the canary, burnt orange, and red would slice across the mountain, making its way up to the peak. I made a note to plan a picnic with Evan down by the creek once the leaves had fully changed.
Waking up tangled in Evan’s arms was definitely something a girl could get used to. He was strong and warm and always smelled like fresh laundry and a hint of woodsmoke.
Delicious.
This morning Gemma had swung by for breakfast, and once she’d left, instead of hurrying out, Evan and I took our time getting ready for the day.
We eventually got sidetracked, and he propped me up on the counter to tease kisses down my neck.
Two orgasms later, my limbs were pleasantly heavy and my body delightfully sore.
Around town, posters advertising Tipp’s Apple Knocker Festival started popping up, and the idea of another small-town event tucked into Evan’s side made my insides glow.
At the library, my list of books on hold was growing and growing.
I’d long given up the worry that I’d be called to leave any day.
I’d made my arrangement with Agent Walsh.
It was settled. There was plenty of work to do on the ranch, so I busied myself with manual labor and buried any complicated feelings that went along with the decisions I’d made.
I’m doing what needs to be done.
The days were filled with hot looks across the barn, aching muscles, and tired feet.
Now that I wasn’t a total newbie around the ranch, I could have a little more say in how I spent my time.
Stalls still needed to be mucked out, and the daily grind never ceased, but I also got to spend most of my days with the horses, which I’d fallen in love with.
While the backbreaking work on the ranch toned and sculpted muscles I never knew existed, my nights were always spent with Evan.
Every morning I went back to my lonely room at the lodge, feeling downtrodden and miserable, so I’d finally decided to pack up my clothes and stay at the cabin with Evan.
We didn’t put a label on it, but a month or so ago, when Evan had referred to it as “our place,” my heart had fluttered against my ribs, and I hadn’t corrected him.
“You gonna stand around all day?” Ray’s scratchy voice snapped me out of my daydreams and back to the reality of mucking out barn stalls .
“Morning, sunshine!” I’d decided the kill him with kindness approach was going to be my best defense in dealing with his surly attitude. It rarely worked. A sneer in my direction was all the kindness I got most days.
Unfazed, I pressed on, sweeping my arm in the direction of the pasture and the buttes beyond. “How can you not see this and think, ‘Holy shit, this is amazing’?”
Ray swept the concrete floor behind me. “Seen better,” he grumbled. Never once had Ray talked to me about anything even remotely personal. I considered this a tiny victory.
“Oh yeah?” I didn’t look at him, but I kept up with my chores and hoped he’d elaborate.
“There ain’t nothin’ like a bayou in Natchitoches.”
I studied him as the old man shuffled the broom in rhythmic sweeps. He was a mystery. Surly and crabby and dismissive, but also hardworking and generally respected on the ranch. He’d clearly had a disdain for police officers, as evidenced by his wintry demeanor toward me.
“Home?”
He paused on his broom. “Long time ago.”
“Do you miss it?”
He thought for a moment, not looking at me but out across the pasture. “Don’t miss the heat. Goddamn, it got sticky.”
“Family?” I pressed.
He grumbled to himself. “Only one person worth missing.”
Then it hit me.
Ray was a witness under protection.
His entire life had to be left behind in order to testify and be protected from any repercussions from that testimony.
He made no attempts to start a new life here.
He simply existed as the shell of the man he used to be.
An irritable old man riddled with regrets of one person he missed.
I couldn’t help but wonder if it was a woman or a child he missed so badly.
His eyes sliced to me and narrowed. He likely hadn’t meant to reveal so much, and once he came to his senses, he scowled.
“And now you’ve got family here.” I tried to sound light, hopeful.
His snarl curdled my stomach as he walked away. “No one here is family. But at least I ain’t spreading my legs, pretending like anyone here gives a shit about me.”
A hot lance of resentment tore through my belly, and tears pricked my eyes as he ambled away. The rational part of me knew he’d lashed out because I’d hit a nerve, but fuck. He left me feeling like I’d been slapped in the face.
Something dark and oily spread through me.
Who else felt that way? Maybe I don’t really belong here.
The camaraderie, nights around the bonfire, family dinner—was it all bullshit?
Was I nothing more to these people than a cop biding her time until I could go back to Chicago?
I shook the dark thoughts from my mind. I couldn’t let one rough conversation with a bitter old man shake my resolve.
I was still a cop. I had a job to do, and I needed to remember that.
There hadn’t been another word about anyone asking questions around town, but I couldn’t help but feel like Evan and Gemma were still in danger.
If I was going to protect them, I couldn’t let fear or insecurity stand in my way.
I closed my eyes to fight back tears, gritted my teeth and steadied my quivering breaths.
“Hey, Val!” A ranch hand trotted by on a horse and offered a wave and a friendly smile .
I swallowed hard and did my best to smile back and fight a fresh wave of tears.
“Smokehouse skillet, eggs over easy, and a coffee, please.”
Our server had a youthful face, skin tanned from the summer sun, and hot-pink lipstick.
Her black hair was pulled tight into a ponytail, and intricate tattoos swirled up one arm.
She scribbled down my order with a smile, grabbed our menus, and walked away.
Gemma sat across the booth and smiled at me.
“Fall classes start in a few weeks, right?”
Her cheeks pulled tight with a huge grin. “Two weeks and the fall semester starts. I’m registered to take online classes for now, but I can’t freaking wait.”
“What’ll you go for?”
“I’m not sure yet, mostly just getting my gen ed classes out of the way. Then I can decide.” Gemma flipped a coffee creamer, trying to get the landing to stick as we waited for our food.
“What about something with music?”
She shot me a bland look.
“I’m serious! I’ve heard you sing in the truck. You’re amazing.”
“No. No, no, no.” Her blonde crop swayed as she shook her head. “Definitely not.”
“I think you’ve got the talent.”
Gemma fiddled with the collar of her chambray shirt, pulling it tighter over her scar. “Belting one out in the car is different. I could never get in front of people and sing.”
The punky waitress derailed our conversation, dropping off Gemma’s orange juice, then filling my mug with steaming black coffee. I dumped in two creams, tasted it, and decided it required a full packet of sugar.
“How’s life in cohabitation?”
My cheeks immediately flushed. “Gem ...”
“Oh, whatever.” She swatted at me. “It’s not like it’s a big deal.”
“Yeah, but it’s your brother. That’s ... I don’t know. Weird.”
Gemma rolled her eyes. “Well, whatever you’re doing, keep it up. He hasn’t harassed me about my chores in weeks, and it’s glorious. Apparently, all he needed was a good lay in order to stop being such a crabby old man.”
I nearly choked on my burned-tasting coffee. “Okay. New topic.”
Gemma tapped her lip to hide her grin. “Fine. Be boring. Do you want to go to Apple Knocker? It’s supposed to be like a carnival, but there’ll be bands and lots of food. I heard there’s bingo with some major prize money too.”
“I haven’t been to a carnival since I was a kid.” We continued rambling on, talking and making plans.
Midway through our breakfast, Gemma’s eyes unfocused, and the color drained from her face.
Her blue eyes went wide, and she was frozen in place, staring at the wall above my shoulder.
Her lower lip began to tremble, and I looked around.
No one else seemed to notice she was in the middle of a total silent meltdown. I had never seen her like this.
I scanned her face. She was stark white and completely still. I looked around the diner. Children giggled, waitstaff cleared plates, a man behind us was paying at the counter, pulling bills from his wallet and making small talk with the cashier .
“Gem,” I whispered. “What’s wrong? Gemma!”
A tear slipped from her eye, but she didn’t move. I reached across the table to grab her shoulder. “Hey. What’s going on?”
My ears pricked. Something was happening, and I couldn’t understand what had caused her to freak out.
I moved from my seat, digging out bills from my purse to drop on the table, and I pulled her from the booth.
She went with me, her eyes still wide and dazed.
I hurried her out the door and pushed her toward the parking lot to her truck.
She sagged against me as I tore the door open and shoved her inside the truck.
By the time I rounded the hood, Gemma was curled in on herself, her knees to her chest and her head between them.
I tore out of the parking lot and headed toward the ranch, my attention split between the dusty country road and Gemma’s heavy panting.
“Deep breaths. You’re going to hyperventilate.”
Ragged breaths scraped out of her and showed no signs of slowing. I stomped on the accelerator, pushing the old truck past its limits in an effort to get back home. Get to Evan. He knew her better than anyone, and she trusted him implicitly. Maybe he could get her to talk.
The truck bounced across the wooden bridge that led to the entrance of Redemption, jostling us in the cab.
“Fuck. Hang on, Gem. We’re home.”
The brakes squealed in protest as I slammed my foot down and threw the truck in park. I had no clue where Evan was, but I needed someone to help her.
“Gemma, can you walk? Come on. We can get help.” Panic raised in my voice.
Typically controlled in stressful situations, my excessive worry over her spontaneous meltdown had my system bouncing out of control.
I had moved toward the door of the truck when Gemma’s hand grabbed my shirtsleeve. My eyes whipped to hers.
“Don’t leave me. Don’t leave me. Don’t leave me.” She pulled my arm closer to her.
I reached across the cab, pulling her close to me. “I’m not leaving. I got you.”
Sobs racked from her, and she clawed her arms around me.
“What is it? Gemma, what happened?”
“The man.” Her voice was broken over the tears she shed. Her eyes were wild and unfocused. “Paying at the counter. It was Parker.”