Chapter 1

Keep reading for a peek into Lana and Caleb’s story,

Tangled Hearts

Lana Mills

“Your timing is impeccable as always, buddy,” I muttered, throwing back the covers.

Scout’s tail thumped against the door frame, his expression somehow both apologetic and insistent. I couldn’t blame him—this wasn’t his normal routine, and he was handling the disruption better than most humans would.

“Okay, okay, I’m coming,” I said, pulling on Ella’s borrowed robe. It was a little short on me, the sleeves barely reaching my wrists, but it was better than parading around in just my sleep shirt and shorts.

Caleb was still asleep on the couch, one arm thrown over his eyes, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. I tiptoed past him, Scout following closely at my heels, clearly trying to be quiet but still managing to jingle his collar with every step.

Once outside, I hugged myself against the morning chill.

The sun was just beginning to peek over the horizon, painting the snow-covered landscape in shades of pink and gold.

Under different circumstances, I might have appreciated the beauty of it all, but my thoughts kept drifting to Ella, Nora, and the others.

What was happening in Ontario? Had they found Nora yet? Were they all safe?

Scout finished his business quickly, then bounded through the snow, seeming to delight in the fresh powder. At least someone was enjoying themselves.

“Don’t go far,” I called softly.

The dog gave me a look that seemed to say, “I’m not stupid,” before continuing his exploration of the yard, nose buried in the snow, tracking some invisible scent.

Back inside, I started the coffee maker, grateful that Ella had shown me how to work it before they left. The familiar gurgling sound was oddly comforting in the quiet house.

“Morning,” Caleb’s sleep-roughened voice came from behind me. “He woke you up, too?”

I turned to find him sitting up on the couch, hair mussed from sleep, stubble darkening his jaw. Even half-awake and rumpled, he managed to look unreasonably attractive.

“Yeah, apparently his bladder operates on a strict schedule,” I said, leaning against the counter. “Coffee?”

“God, yes,” he replied, stretching his arms above his head. The movement caused his t-shirt to ride up, revealing a strip of toned stomach that I definitely did not notice. Much.

I busied myself with mugs and cream, trying not to think about how domestic this all felt.

Caleb and I, sharing a quiet morning in what was essentially our temporary home.

Scout scratching at the door to be let back in.

The coffee brewing. It was all so... normal.

The kind of normal I’d never really had.

“Any word from them?” Caleb asked, hobbling over on his crutches to accept the mug I handed him.

I shook my head. “Nothing. How’s your leg feeling?”

Blowing on his coffee, he said, “Hurts like a bitc… it hurts.”

I laughed as he took a sip of the brew.

“You know, it’s alright if you swear around me.”

“Probably better that I don’t. I’ve been told my vocabulary gets colorful when I’m in pain.” He grimaced as he shifted his weight.

I rummaged through Ella’s refrigerator, pulling out eggs and some leftover ham. “How about breakfast? I make a decent omelet.”

“You don’t have to cook for me,” Caleb protested, but his stomach growled loudly enough to undermine his argument.

“Consider it payment for staying here with me,” I said, cracking eggs into a bowl. “Besides, someone needs to keep their strength up while recovering from a gunshot wound.”

His hand instinctively moved to his thigh. “It’s just a graze.”

“You were shot, Caleb. That’s not something you just walk off.” I whisked the eggs with more force than necessary. “Speaking of which, I need to go over to Jake’s place and feed his animals.”

Caleb straightened immediately. “I’ll come with you.”

“Absolutely not. You need to stay here with your leg propped up.” I pointed the whisk at him for emphasis, sending tiny droplets of egg flying. “Doctor’s orders, remember?”

“I don’t like the idea of you going alone,” he said, his brow furrowing. “We still don’t know who might be watching the place.”

“It’s broad daylight, and I’ll be quick.” I poured the egg mixture into the hot pan. “Besides, all I have to do is walk around the fence line and up his laneway. You can watch me from Nora’s bedroom window if you want.”

Caleb didn’t look convinced. “At least take Scout with you. He’s a good judge of character, and he’ll bark if something’s off.”

I flipped the omelet, considering arguing further, but the concern in his eyes made me relent. “Fine. Scout can come as my bodyguard.”

Twenty minutes later, with Caleb settled back on the couch, his leg elevated on pillows, a plate balanced on his lap, and the TV remote, his phone, and a glass of water within reach, I pulled on my boots by the door.

“I’ll be back in an hour, tops,” I promised, zipping up my coat.

“If you’re not, I’m coming after you, bum leg and all,” Caleb warned, his expression serious despite the forced lightness in his tone.

Scout circled my legs excitedly, sensing an adventure. I clipped on his leash, though I doubted I’d need it out here in the country.

The walk to Jake’s place was peaceful, the morning sun now fully risen, glittering off the snow. Scout bounded ahead, occasionally stopping to sniff something interesting before racing back to check on me.

Jake’s farmhouse looked eerily still with everyone gone. It gave me the creeps, like someone was watching me from an upstairs window. “Come on Scout,” I said, picking up the pace.

As I trudged through the snow, the dog trotting beside me, my thoughts turned to Nora. Where had Alexei Petrova taken her? What was he doing to her right now? The thought of someone so innocent being taken made my stomach clench.

I’d seen what men like him were capable of. The casual cruelty, the disregard for human life. And Nora was just a child. My pace quickened unconsciously, as if by moving faster I could somehow help her, even from thousands of miles away.

The barn door was heavy, and it took my full weight to slide it open. Inside, it was dimly lit, the smell of hay and animals immediately enveloping me. Several cows mooed from their stalls, clearly eager for breakfast.

“I know, I know,” I murmured, as the momma cat circled my legs. Finding a bag of cat food in the feed storage area, I dumped some into her bowl, then looked at the cows and horses. “Ella texted and said you get two scoops each, right?” I looked at them, expecting an answer.

I giggled, shook my head, and got to it.

I worked methodically, moving from stall to stall, pouring feed and checking water troughs.

The work was almost soothing, giving my anxious mind something concrete to focus on.

Scout stayed close, occasionally sniffing at the straw-covered floor with interest.

It wasn’t until I’d fed the last cow and was turning to leave that I noticed something wasn’t right. There was a stillness in the back corner of the barn that felt... deliberate. The hair on the back of my neck stood up.

Scout noticed it too, his ears perking forward, a low growl rumbling in his chest.

“Hello?” I called, my voice sounding thin in the cavernous space. “Is someone there?”

No answer, but Scout’s growl deepened. I took a step back, bumping into the stall door behind me.

That’s when I saw it—a shadow shifting where no shadow should be, and the unmistakable silhouette of a person standing in the darkest corner of the barn, watching me.

I grabbed the closest weapon I could find. A shop broom and pointed it at them. “Who’s there?” I called, gripping the broom handle tighter. My heart hammered against my ribs as I squinted into the darkness.

The shadow moved, and a figure stepped forward into a shaft of dusty light streaming through the barn’s high windows.

“Easy there, city girl.” A woman with silver-streaked hair tied back in a practical braid emerged from the darkness. She wore overalls and a flannel shirt, looking every bit the part of a local farmer. “You’re liable to hurt someone with that deadly weapon.”

I didn’t lower the broom. “Who are you and what are you doing in Jake’s barn?”

Scout had stopped growling but remained alert at my side, his body tense.

“I’m Margaret Holloway. I live on the property adjacent to Jake’s.

” She gestured vaguely toward the back of the barn.

“I was checking on the animals. Been doing it every morning since Jake left, but he called yesterday saying someone else would be handling it.” She looked me up and down. “I’m guessing that’s you?”

I slowly lowered the broom, though I didn’t entirely release my grip. “Ella didn’t mention anyone else would be here.”

Margaret shrugged. “Probably slipped her mind with everything going on. That poor family...” She shook her head. “Anyway, since you’re here, I’ll leave you to it. Though I’ve already fed the chickens out back.”

“Thanks,” I said, still wary. “How did you get in? I didn’t see another vehicle.”

“I walked through the back field. It’s only about half a mile from my place if you cut across.” She pointed to a small door at the rear of the barn I hadn’t noticed before. “I’ve known Jake since he was in diapers. We’re practically family.”

That sounded plausible, but something kept me on edge. Maybe it was just my natural distrust of strangers, or maybe it was everything that had happened in the past few days.

“Well, I appreciate you looking after things, but I’ve got it covered now.”

Margaret nodded, wiping her hands on her overalls. “Sure thing. You staying at Ella’s place?” When I hesitated, she added, “Small town. Word gets around when strangers show up.”

I didn’t classify myself as a stranger anymore, but whatever. “Just for a few days,” I said vaguely.

“Well, if you need anything, I’m just over that ridge.” She pointed again. “Blue farmhouse with the red barn. Can’t miss it.”

I nodded, forcing a polite smile. “Thanks.”

Margaret walked toward the back door, then paused. “By the way, that handsome fellow with the bum leg... he doing okay? Heard there was some kind of hunting accident.”

My grip on the broom tightened again. “He’s fine. Just resting.”

“Good to hear. Tell him I said hello, though we haven’t formally met.” With that, she slipped out the back door, leaving me alone with Scout and an unsettled feeling in my stomach.

I finished the remaining chores quickly, constantly glancing over my shoulder. When I locked up the barn, I deliberately walked around to check the back door, making sure it was secure.

Outside, I scanned the landscape, looking for the blue farmhouse Margaret had mentioned. Sure enough, I could just make out a blue structure in the distance, beyond a line of trees and across an open field.

“Come on, Scout,” I said, tugging lightly on his leash. “Let’s get back to Caleb.”

As we trudged through the snow back toward Ella’s house, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off about that encounter. How had Margaret known about Caleb’s leg? And why had she really been in the barn this morning if she knew someone else would be taking care of the animals?

By the time I reached Ella’s front porch, my mind was racing with possibilities, none of them good. I stamped the snow from my boots and opened the door, finding Caleb exactly where I’d left him, though he’d set his empty plate aside and was scrolling through his phone.

He looked up immediately, relief washing over his features. “You’re back. Everything okay?”

I shut the door firmly behind me and turned the lock. “I’m not sure.”

This coming August, we are going back to the '80s...

back to when it all started

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