Chapter 3
Inside, the house opened around her, and Rowan didn’t move.
The place looked the same.
A wide, white marble island still anchored the kitchen, a long wooden table beneath the black farmhouse chandelier just beyond it. The gray brick hearth stretched around the fireplace in the living room, couches arranged around it. Even the piano room near the front door felt untouched.
Rowan’s chest tightened.
She hadn’t stepped inside this place since the funeral.
On that day, the house had been full of people and flowers and casseroles left on every surface. Grief had filled each room, pressing in from all sides.
Now it felt settled, like the place had found its rhythm again—but without Sarah.
“You okay?” Naomi asked, her voice gentle.
Rowan nodded, though the motion felt slower than it should have been. “Yeah. It just . . .” She glanced around again. “It just looks the same.”
Naomi’s gaze softened. “We tried to keep it that way.”
A soft thump of paws sounded from somewhere deeper in the house, followed by the quick, eager rhythm of claws on hardwood.
A yellow lab rounded the corner at a trot, tail wagging hard enough to move the rest of him with it.
“Well, hey there,” Rowan murmured, crouching as the dog approached.
“This is Good Boy.” A hint of a smile captured Naomi’s voice. “He kind of adopted me. Or I adopted him. It’s still a little unclear. But now I can’t live without him.”
Rowan ran a hand over his head, something in her chest loosening. “I think he made the right call.”
Naomi laughed. “He usually does.”
Rowan straightened as Naomi continued, “Baby Grace is sleeping, but I can’t wait for you to meet her.”
“Me too!”
“And we’ve got three women staying here right now. Each of them brought a dog. They’re all doing their own things right now. I think most of them are in their rooms.”
“Good to know.”
Naomi touched her arm. “Come on. I’ll show you your room.”
Rowan followed her toward the stairs, her hand brushing the banister as they climbed.
Naomi stopped near the end of the hall and pushed open a door. “You can take this one. It gets the best light in the afternoon.”
Rowan stepped inside. The space was simple but warm, with soft bedding, a dresser against one wall, and an oversized beige chair near the window. It was nothing flashy or complicated. Just . . . peaceful.
She set her bag on the edge of the bed and crossed to the window without thinking.
The view opened to the front drive.
She spotted Wes standing near his truck talking to Caleb.
Her chest tightened at the sight of him.
“How long has it been since you’ve seen him?” Naomi’s voice came from behind her, gentle but knowing.
Rowan didn’t turn. “Too long. Honestly? It’s been years.”
But she’d never forgotten about him. She didn’t say that aloud, however.
She watched Wes another second, and the past slipped in before she could stop it.
He’d come to California once, about three years after she’d moved there. He’d been on leave from the Marines.
She hadn’t expected his visit. Hadn’t even known he was thinking about it until he showed up at her apartment, looking out of place against the backdrop of glass and traffic and noise.
She’d been thrilled to see him. But things had steadily gone downhill from there.
They hadn’t spoken since.
Rowan exhaled, pulling herself back to the present.
Naomi stepped closer, following her gaze out the window. “There’s nothing not to love about Wes, is there?”
“No,” Rowan murmured. “I guess not.”
Naomi studied Rowan as if she might say more, then she seemed to think better of it. Instead, she said, “I still can’t believe you’re actually here, Rowan. But I’m so glad you’re home.”
She smiled. “Me too.”
“Do you know how long you’re staying?”
That was a great question. She hadn’t thought any of this through. She’d just been operating on instinct.
Rowan shook her head. “Not really.”
“Well, you look tired, so I’ll give you some time to rest. Dinner is at six. Mom is with Luke right now, helping him with the kids. She’ll be here Wednesday, though. Once she hears you’re here . . . it’s going to kill her not to come right away.”
Rowan smiled. “I can’t wait to see her—and Luke and the kids. And Wyatt. And I heard Hadley was back in town also.”
“I know they’ll all be so happy to see you.”
Rowan had seen her mom more than she’d seen her siblings. Her mom was always the first to rush to be with her during any type of crisis. She’d flown out to California at least five different times—during breakups, lost movie roles, and other moments of desperation.
Rowan didn’t know where she’d be without her mom.
But even her mother couldn’t fix her current situation.
Quiet settled around Rowan after Naomi left the room.
Rowan turned from the window and pulled her phone from her pocket. She turned the device back on, and the screen lit with notifications.
Her stomach tightened as another message from Vince appeared.
We need to talk. You not being here is a problem. It’s costing us a lot of money.
Her thumb hovered over the screen.
More messages loaded.
You don’t want to make this worse.
Her chest tightened as she scrolled.
A new name appeared. Stone Phillips—her co-star.
Rowan??? Where are you? Is everything okay?
Another message followed immediately.
Thayer is dead, and everyone’s asking for you. Vince is losing it. Nobody knows what’s going on. People are already speculating.
Rowan swallowed hard.
Of course, they were looking for her. She’d walked away from a production she was tied to contractually. That alone could cause legal and financial fallout.
And Vince . . .
Her gaze dropped back to his messages.
You left at a very bad time.
Her breath caught.
Another message appeared almost immediately as her phone kept buzzing.
If you don’t call me, I’ll handle this my way.
Rowan sank onto the edge of the bed, her thoughts spiraling.
Should she have gone to the police?
The question surfaced again, sharper this time.
She’d thought about it in the car. Thought about turning around. Reporting what she’d seen.
But what would she even say? That she’d witnessed an argument that turned violent? That she’d panicked and fled?
It would be her word against Vince’s. And he was a legend in Hollywood circles. He had money and connections. No one would believe he’d do something like this.
Besides, he had her earring.
Would he really use that as evidence against her?
She suspected he would.
Now she’d run. Crossed state lines. Hidden herself away.
Every hour that passed made her silence look worse. Made her look more guilty.
Her gaze drifted toward the window, toward the quiet mountains surrounding Refuge Cove.
No one here had any idea what she’d brought with her.
Maybe coming home had been a mistake.
Wes and Remington continued walking beside Caleb along the edge of the property, his gaze moving from trees to fencing to the open ground as he assessed potential threats.
But his thoughts kept straying back to Rowan. To what she was doing here. To what might be going wrong in her life. To what kind of trouble she might be in.
So many years had passed since he’d last seen her. He’d tried to date other women. Good women. Women who seemed like a smart fit for him.
But there was no one like Rowan. Though he’d known he had to let her go, his heart seemed to have a different idea.
He turned his attention back to the job at hand.
He didn’t just look at the land—he measured distance, cover, approach. He was good at what he did.
“You’ve got good natural screening here.” Wes nodded toward the trees. “Helps with privacy. But it also gives someone cover if they want to get close.”
Caleb followed his line of sight. “That’s been a concern.”
“It should be.” Wes crouched near a low stretch of fence and pressed at a section near the ground. It was solid. However . . . “This won’t stop anyone who’s motivated. From what you’ve told me, someone’s already testing the perimeter.”
Heavy paws thudded behind him. Remington.
Remington hadn’t started out as his. Wes had been a Marine working alongside a K9 unit overseas. Remington had belonged to a handler—a good one—and the dog had been trained to a level most people never saw.
Something went wrong on a mission. When it was over, the handler was gone, and the dog was set to be retired.
Wes had stepped in without overthinking it.
What started as responsibility turned into what some people might call a friendship.
Yes, dogs were supposed to be man’s best friend. Remington had proven that to be true.
The dog didn’t just follow commands. He could read the room, the terrain, the tension in a way that settled Wes when nothing else quite did.
Wes never called him anything like an emotional support dog. He didn’t need a label. The truth was simpler than that. They’d both needed a place to land—and they’d found it in each other.
Wes rose and brushed dirt from his hands. “You’ve got open property, multiple buildings, and you’ll have construction workers moving in and out. To maintain your security here, you’ll need layers—controlled access, coverage, and a response plan everyone knows.”
Caleb nodded. “That’s why we called you.
We’ve been praying about these cottages for a while, and we feel like now is the time.
We think some of the women who come to stay with us would be more comfortable in their own space.
Plus, we’re running into issues with all the dogs. And now Millie is living here—”
“Millie Anderson?” Caleb and Millie had also been high school sweethearts, but he’d heard they’d broken up.
Caleb grinned. “We reconnected recently. But that’s a story for another time. We also have Baby Grace now—she’s another story for later. Anyway . . . it’s just been complicated as we’ve grown.”
“I understand. The cottages sound like a good idea.”
“We’ve already been approved by the county, and Luke will be helping us with the project.
Our permit indicates we’re building these bungalows as part of our retreat center.
That’s what we call it. We don’t want people knowing what we’re really doing here with our women’s shelter—not even people with the county.
We’ve found that the fewer people who know, the better. ”
“That sounds wise given the circumstances most of your guests come here under.”
“Exactly. But I’m afraid they’ll be more exposed out here than in the main house. Their safety is our first priority.”
“It’s always better to design security from the start instead of patching holes later.”
“My thoughts exactly.”
“My company can handle the full setup,” Wes said. “Cameras, access control, training. I’ll put together options so you can choose the level you want.”
“That sounds perfect.” Caleb paused and hooked his thumbs in his pockets. “Where are you staying while you’re here?”
“Hollow House.”
Wes had checked in before coming here. The place was interesting, to say the least. The bed and breakfast sat along Main Street in Blue Ridge Hollow, and he’d been given its full history when he checked in.
The building had been built in 1779. Maggie Goodley, the owner, had told him that George Washington had once spent a night beneath its roof, though no one could quite prove it.
The house had the presence that made people talk—some claimed it was haunted, while Maggie preferred to say the walls simply remembered things.
“Maggie is great,” Caleb said. “Check out The Grind House while you’re in town. They’ve got the best coffee.”
“I’ll have to do that,” Wes said. “I’ve got a couple other bids in the area. So I’ll be around for a couple of days.”
His business was based out of Baltimore, but he traveled up and down the East Coast for his work.
Caleb nodded. “When can you start here?”
“As early as next week. I just wrapped a job up near DC and blocked time for this.”
“Perfect.” Caleb nodded toward the house. “Listen, you should come for dinner tonight.”
Wes stilled. His first instinct was to say no. Not because of the job.
Because of Rowan.
He didn’t know if his being would help or make things worse. He didn’t want her to feel awkward in her family’s house.
“I don’t want to intrude,” Wes finally said.
Caleb gave him a knowing look. “You won’t. You’re here. And if you’re working with us, it makes sense.”
Wes glanced at the house. At the window he’d seen Rowan standing at earlier. “I’m not sure she’d agree.”
Caleb’s expression shifted, understanding clear. “Rowan will be fine.”
A meal together sounded simple. But was it?
He wasn’t so sure—especially considering how things had ended between them.
“I’ll be there,” he finally said. “It would be nice to see everyone again. Who doesn’t enjoy some time with the King family? Your house growing up was always where everyone wanted to hang out.”
Caleb grinned. “That’s partially because my mom was always feeding everyone.”
“Yes, she was. I still remember how good her dinners were.”
“So you’ll be here? Perfect.”
As Wes headed for his truck, his gaze drifted toward the woods.
Something about the space begged for his attention. But what?
He didn’t see anything in the shadows there.
But it almost felt too still. Too quiet.
It almost felt as if someone had been there not long ago.