Chapter 21
Twenty-One
Tessa
The day was flying by, Brooke had gone out to a ranch east of town to help with a cow that was having foot issues, and that left me here to man the clinic alone. Mostly, it was phone calls to rebook patients.
“Hey, roomie,” Dani said as she waltzed into the clinic with two coffees in hand. “Do you know you’ve got a tab running at that coffee shop?”
“Yeah, Colin did that,” I said flatly, and Dani stopped mid-sip.
I was half expecting her to spit the coffee out, but she just shrugged.
I couldn’t blame her; it was good coffee.
“I should refuse to use it, but I’m broke, and it’s good coffee.
” I was a little too exhausted to worry about it at the moment.
“So. How’s Cowboy Daddy?”
I choked hard. “How’s who?”
Her grin widened. “Oh, good. He hasn’t told you yet.”
My stomach dropped. “What did you do?”
“I introduced myself properly.”
“Dani.”
She waved me off. “Relax. I told him to keep his distance. Told him to behave. Told him if he hurt you, I’d burn his entire ranch to the ground, and ruin all his delicious beer.”
“Dani,” I said again, a little more exasperated.
“And,” she added, clearly enjoying herself, “I gave him a nickname.”
I dropped my forehead to the table. “I can’t survive this.”
“Oh, you can,” she said cheerfully. “You’re tougher than you think.”
She sobered then, just a little, leaning forward with her elbows on her knees. “I did it because you’re fragile right now, Tess. Not weak. Fragile. And you keep attracting men who think they get to decide what’s best for you.”
That hit a little harder than I wanted it to. I didn’t argue, because underneath the embarrassment and irritation and the unwanted warmth curling low in my stomach, there was an uncomfortable truth pressing against my ribs.
Wyatt showed up when I needed him.
He knew exactly what to do.
He steadied me without taking over.
And he walked away before I realized how much I wanted him to stay.
That scared me more than the debt. More than the ranch. More than my grief.
I stood abruptly. “I need to go run a few errands for Brooke.”
Dani raised a brow.
“I need to check on a feed order and talk to the local welding shop about looking at the cattle handling system in the back.”
“Do you want company?”
“No,” I said quickly. “You’ve done enough damage for one day.”
She grinned. “You’ll thank me later.”
I grabbed my keys and left before she could say anything else that would lodge itself in my brain.
Downtown was busy in that deceptively cheerful way. Market umbrellas lined the sidewalks. Kids rode bikes between food trucks. Someone laughed too loudly near the bakery. Everything looked normal and bright and loud in a way that made me feel like I’d missed a step everyone else knew.
I parked near the co-op and stepped out.
At first, everything felt fine.
Then the prickling started at the back of my neck. The unmistakable awareness of being watched, not casually, not accidentally, but deliberately.
I turned my head just enough to see him.
A grey sedan sat across the street, engine running. Colin leaned against the hood with his arms folded, watching me like he had all the time in the world.
My stomach dropped straight to the pavement.
He didn’t wave, or call out. He just smiled. That tight, controlled smile that made my skin crawl.
I looked away immediately and forced my feet to move. The co-op door jingled as I pulled it open, but my heart was already pounding hard enough to hurt.
Why was he here?
Why now?
Why like this?
I ordered mineral blocks and supplements like nothing was wrong, nodded at a man who used to know my uncle, signed the slip with a hand that shook no matter how hard I tried to steady it.
When I stepped back outside, Colin was gone.
The fear was not.
It stayed lodged in my chest, heavy and cold and certain, and suddenly I hated Dani’s joke. Hated my attraction to Wyatt. Hated needing anyone at all.
Because when real trouble came knocking, I did not want to be someone’s responsibility.
I ran the rest of my errands on sheer stubborn momentum. Feed store. Post office. Hardware store. I kept moving because stopping felt like surrender. If I stopped doing normal things, he won.
By the time I crossed back toward my truck, the late afternoon sun was low and sharp, throwing long shadows across the lot. I slowed.
Something was off.
The truck was locked, but the driver’s window had smudges on the glass. Not mine. I always rolled it down by gripping the top. These prints were lower, angled differently.
Someone had leaned in close.
My breathing thinned. I scanned the lot. Nothing unusual. Just people. Just trucks. No grey sedan.
Then I saw it.
A small white envelope tucked under the driver’s side wiper blade.
My name written across the front. Underlined twice.
No one in town would leave me a note like that. No one knew me well enough, or no one cared enough.
Except him.
My fingers felt disconnected as I reached for the envelope. It was thin. Too light. My mouth went dry as I opened it.
Inside were photos.
My barn, the door open, and Wyatt’s truck parked in front. The night the horse colicked. Then there was another one of Wyatt’s arms around my waist at Ray’s funeral, Brooke and I laughing at something at the front desk. Then there was the front door of my home.
These were all recent. Intentional. Close. I didn’t bother looking through the rest, my stomach was in knots, and I didn’t want to know how truly close he’d gotten...
At the bottom, scrawled on a piece of paper, dark ink:
You’re not safe out here alone.
Come home, Tess.
C.
I didn’t realize I’d backed into the truck until the metal pressed into my spine.
This wasn’t a phone call.
Wasn’t a text.
Wasn’t an angry ex.
This was a warning. A threat dressed up as concern.
I shoved the photo back into the envelope and scanned the lot again, panic licking up my spine. Every stranger looked wrong. Every car felt like it could be his.
I climbed into the truck and locked the doors immediately. My hands shook so badly I dropped the keys twice before managing to start the engine.
“Go,” I whispered. “Just go.”
As I pulled out of the lot, I kept checking the mirrors, searching for that grey sedan, those tinted windows, that smile.
All I saw was myself. And the envelope on the passenger seat stared back at me like a loaded gun.
I didn’t want to call Wyatt.
I didn't want to need him.
I didn't want him to see me like this.
But as I drove home, one truth settled deep and cold in my bones. Colin wasn’t just angry, he was escalating.