Chapter 7
Jake
I pulled my truck off the highway and into the hardware store parking lot, trying to ignore the headache pounding behind my eyes.
Four hours of sleep on Ella’s couch wasn’t nearly enough, especially after what she’d confessed.
The image of her sitting across from me at the kitchen table, hands trembling around her coffee mug as she admitted to bombing a yacht, that her family is the Irish mob— kept replaying in my mind.
I couldn’t judge her, not after everything I’d done.
The hardware store was already bustling with ranchers and contractors loading up supplies before the workday.
I nodded to a few familiar faces and headed straight for the security section.
I loaded my cart with motion sensors, two night-vision trail cameras, door alarms, and extra batteries.
The cashier raised an eyebrow at my purchases but didn’t comment.
Back in the truck, I called Caleb. He answered on the third ring, his voice rough with sleep.
“You still at the house?” I asked.
“Yeah. Everything’s quiet here.”
“Good. I’m heading back now with some security equipment. Keep an eye on things.”
“Will do,” he said, then hesitated. “Listen, Jake—”
“We’ll talk later,” I cut him off, not wanting to get into it on the phone. “Just stay put.”
I hung up and sat for a moment, gripping the steering wheel.
The truth was, I didn’t trust Caleb completely.
Not yet. His sudden reappearance after years of silence, the mysterious injury to his hand, the way he’d shown up at the bakery introducing himself to Ella and asking her a ton of questions—it all felt off.
But he was still my brother. And right now, I needed all the help I could get.
I started the engine and pulled back onto the highway. The mountains loomed in the distance, snow-capped and indifferent to the human drama playing out below. I’d always found comfort in their permanence, the way they remained unchanged while everything else fell apart.
My phone buzzed with a text from an unknown number. I glanced down.
“WATCHING YOU.”
I tossed the phone onto the passenger seat, my jaw clenching. Someone was playing games, and I was getting really tired of it.
When I pulled into my driveway twenty minutes later, Caleb was waiting on the porch, a mug of coffee in his uninjured hand.
“You look like shit,” he said as I climbed out of the truck.
“Feel like it too.” I grabbed the bags from the backseat. “Any calls?”
“Just Dave checking in about the south fence. Said he’d handle it.”
I nodded, relieved that at least one thing was going right. Dave was the closest thing to reliable I’d found in this valley.
Inside, the house was quiet except for the ticking of the old grandfather clock in the hallway. I dumped the security equipment on the kitchen table and poured myself a cup of coffee.
“So,” Caleb said, leaning against the counter. “You gonna tell me what’s going on with you and the baker?”
I shot him a look. “Nothing’s going on.”
“Right.” He smirked. “That’s why you spent the night at her place.”
“I was keeping watch.”
“Keeping watch.” He nodded slowly. “Very noble. And completely platonic, I’m sure.”
I set my mug down harder than necessary. “Drop it, Caleb.”
He raised his hands in mock surrender, but his eyes remained calculating. “Just saying. You barely know this woman, and suddenly you’re installing more security systems in her already-secured house and acting as her bodyguard? She has a family to do that.”
“Never can have too many security systems in place.” When he looked unconvinced, I continued. “She’s in trouble, and I’m the closest neighbor she’s got.” I started sorting through the equipment, avoiding his gaze. “She’s got a kid.”
“Yeah, I noticed. Cute kid.” He paused. “Looks a bit like Melanie, doesn’t she?”
The comparison hit me like a physical blow. I hadn’t allowed myself to think it, but he was right. Something about Nora’s determined little frown, the way she tilted her head when she was curious—it reminded me painfully of my daughter.
“That has nothing to do with it,” I said, my voice tight.
Caleb watched me for a moment, then sighed. “Look, I’m not trying to bust your balls. I just don’t want to see you get hurt again.”
The concern in his voice seemed genuine, which only made me more uncomfortable. Caleb had never been the protective type—that had always been my role.
“I’m fine,” I said, zipping open one of the trail cameras to check the batteries. “I know what I’m doing.”
“Do you?” He moved closer, lowering his voice. “Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you’re getting involved in something dangerous. These threats, the mysterious ex—it’s not your fight, Jake.”
I looked up at him then, really looked at him. The brother I remembered had been cocky, self-assured, always ready with a smart remark. This Caleb was different—harder around the edges, with something haunted in his eyes.
“What happened to your hand?” I asked suddenly.
He glanced down at the bandage as if he’d forgotten it was there. “Told you. Caught it in a car door.”
“Bullshit. And the gash in your side?”
“Caught it on barbed wire. Look, believe what you want.” He shrugged. “We all have our secrets.”
The statement hung between us, loaded with implication. I thought about Ella’s confession, about my own carefully guarded past. About the text messages from an unknown number.
“Yeah,” I said finally. “I guess we do.”
I finished my coffee in silence, then started packing the security equipment into a duffel bag. Caleb watched from the doorway.
“You heading back to her place?” he asked.
I nodded. “Need to get this set up before dark.”
“Want me to come with you?”
I considered it, then shook my head. “Better if you stay here. Keep an eye on things.”
He didn’t argue, which surprised me. The old Caleb would have pushed, would have insisted on being in the middle of the action. Instead, he just nodded and said, “Call if you need backup.”
As I loaded the duffel into my truck, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was building—a storm gathering force just beyond the horizon. My instincts had saved my life more than once, and right now they were screaming that I was missing something important.
I checked my phone one more time before driving off. No new messages, but the last one still glowed on the screen.
“WATCHING YOU.”
I deleted it and tossed the phone onto the seat beside me. Whoever was playing games would have to do better than cryptic texts to scare me off.
By the time I pulled into her driveway, the afternoon sun was already sinking behind the mountains.
Her SUV wasn’t in the driveway. I checked my watch—3:15. She’d be picking up Nora from school about now. I used the spare key she’d given me that morning and let myself in, Scout greeting me with a half-hearted wag before returning to his bed by the fireplace.
“What’s wrong with you, boy?” I muttered, kneeling to scratch behind his ears. He whined softly, resting his head on his paws. He seemed listless, not at all like the energetic dog I’d seen yesterday.
I made a mental note to mention it to Ella, then got to work setting up the security system.
I started with the doors and windows, installing sensors that would trigger an alarm if breached.
The trail cameras went outside—one facing the driveway, another covering the backyard.
Motion-activated lights followed, positioned to illuminate any approach to the house.
I was on a ladder installing the last light when I heard tires on the gravel. Ella’s SUV pulled in, and Nora pressed her face against the passenger window. I climbed down as they got out.
“What are you doing?” Nora asked immediately, staring up at me with undisguised curiosity.
“Putting up some lights,” I said, keeping my tone casual. “So your mom can see better at night.”
Ella shot me a grateful look over Nora’s head. “Why don’t you go check on Scout? He’s been feeling a bit under the weather.”
Nora ran inside, calling for the dog. Ella moved closer, lowering her voice.
“Any problems?”
I shook my head. “All quiet. Almost done with the setup.”
She nodded, some of the tension leaving her shoulders. “Thank you. I don’t know how to—”
“You don’t have to thank me,” I cut in. “It’s nothing.”
Her eyes met mine, steady and searching. “It’s not nothing, Jake.”
Something shifted in the air between us, a current I couldn’t name. Before I could respond, Nora came running back out.
“Mom! Scout won’t eat his treats! And he’s breathing funny!”
The alarm in her voice had us both moving instantly. Inside, Scout lay on his side, his breathing labored. When Ella touched his side, he whimpered but didn’t try to get up.
“How long has he been like this?” I asked, kneeling beside the dog.
“He was fine yesterday,” Ella said, her hand hovering over Scout’s heaving ribs. “Just a little tired. He didn’t eat all day yesterday or this morning.”
I ran my hands carefully over the dog’s body, feeling for injuries or swelling. When I pressed gently on his abdomen, he yelped and tried to snap at my hand.
“We need to get him to a vet,” I said, meeting Ella’s worried gaze. “Now.”
“Is Scout going to die?” Nora’s voice trembled.
Ella pulled her close. “No, honey. He’s just sick. Dr. Miller will help him.”
I carefully lifted Scout, trying not to jostle him. He was heavy, but I managed to carry him to Ella’s SUV and lay him across the backseat.
“I’ll drive,” I told Ella, holding out my hand for the keys. She passed them over without argument, which told me just how worried she was.
The nearest vet was in town, a fifteen-minute drive under normal conditions. I made it in ten, with Ella in the backseat holding Scout’s head in her lap and Nora sitting silently beside me, her small face pinched with worry.
Dr. Miller met us at the door, alerted by Ella’s call during the drive. She was a no-nonsense woman in her fifties who’d treated most of the animals in the valley at one point or another.