Chapter 9
S unlight hits my face, and my eyes shoot open before I remember where I am—who I am with. In my bed, Trace. His arm is draped over my waist, heavy and warm. This isn’t our first morning together, but it feels different—like another piece has clicked into place.I roll over, studying his face. The worry lines are still there, even in sleep. Something had been bothering him last night, but we’d gotten distracted. Really distracted. Heat flushes my cheeks at the memory.
“You’re staring,” he says without opening his eyes.
“You’re avoiding.”
His eyes open then, dark and serious. “What?”
“Come on, Trace. Something’s wrong. You’ve been off since yesterday. Talk to me.”
He sighs, pulling me closer. “It’s Rosa.”
My stomach clenches. Of course it is Rosa. The woman who’s been raising his daughter. Who’s been there through everything. While I am just… what? The girlfriend? The interloper?
“She didn’t take it well when I told her about us,” he continues. “About my plans for our future.”
“Plans?” My heart skips.
“Yeah, Sunshine. Plans.” His thumb traces my cheek. “But Rosa… she thinks I’m trying to replace her. Push her out of Jelena’s life.”
“Are you?”
“God, no.” He sits up, the sheet pooling at his waist. “That’s not how family works. Not real family. We add people, we don’t subtract them.”
“Did you tell her that?”
His silence is answer enough.
“Trace…”
“I know. I screwed up. Left things… unclear.” He catches my hand, pressing it to his chest. “I’ll fix it. Make her understand that you’re not taking her place. You’ll both have roles in Jelena’s life. You’ll be her mom too, different from Rosa, but just as important.”
Mom. The word hits me like a punch to the gut. Beautiful and terrifying all at once. “Can we really do this? Make it work without anyone getting hurt?”
“Not even a question.” He pulls me into his arms, and I go willingly. Needing his strength, his certainty. “We’ll figure it out together. Every day.”
His lips find mine, and this time, there is no more talking. No more worries about Rosa or family dynamics. Just us, coming together like we are made for each other. Like we’ve never been apart.
Afterwards, I snuggle into his side, feeling boneless and satisfied. His fingers trace lazy patterns on my shoulder. “Tell me about yesterday,” he says softly. “Your father showed up at the school?”
I tense. “News travels fast.”
“Small town.”
“Yeah.” I sigh, pressing closer to his warmth. “He cornered me after the last bell. Said he wanted to apologize. That he was wrong about you.” A bitter laugh escapes. “Kept going on about how well Arrow Trucking is doing. How you’re ‘bringing jobs to the community.’ Like that somehow makes up for what he did.”
“And what did you say?”
“I lost it. I told him he only values people for what they can give him. Money. Status. Property. That he wouldn’t know real love if it bit him in his pompous ass.”
Trace’s chest ripples with a laugh. “Bet he loved that.”
“Oh, he had plenty to say. He started by saying that it’s a father’s job to want the best for his daughter.” My voice cracks. “I asked him when he’d ever cared about what was best for me. When he’d ever asked what made me happy.”
“Sunshine…” His arms tighten around me.
“You know what the worst part is? He seemed surprised that I was angry. Like he genuinely couldn’t understand why his approval of you now, when you’re successful, makes everything worse.”
Trace is quiet for a long moment, his heart beating steady under my ear. “The thing is,” he says finally, “I get it now. The letting go part.”
I push up on my elbow to look at him. “What do you mean?”
“After your father forced me to leave… that anger ate me alive. Every decision I made was filtered through hate. But becoming Jelena’s father changed everything. Made me realize I couldn’t let that darkness control my life anymore.”
“Are you saying I should forgive him?”
“I’m saying I’m willing to coexist with him. For you. For us. ” His thumb traces my cheek. “Families come in packages, sunshine. Even if part of that package are people we don't always like.”
I think about that. About forgiveness and second chances. About the way my father’s eyes had looked yesterday - desperate and afraid in a way I’ve never seen before. “Maybe,” I say slowly, “we could try. Baby steps.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” I lay my head back on his chest. “But not today. Today I just want this. Us.”
The single word “Us” has barely left my lips when Trace’s phone buzzes. He reaches for it absently, probably planning to ignore it again, but his whole body goes rigid when he reads the screen.
“Rosa.” His voice cracks. “God, no…”
I sit up, clutching the sheet to my chest. His face has gone pale, and his jaw is clenched so tight I can see his muscles jumping. “What is it?”
He thrusts the phone at me. Rosa’s message fills the screen:
I’m sorry. So sorry. I can’t watch everything change. Can’t lose anyone else I love.
My blood runs cold. “Call her.”
His fingers are already flying over the phone. It rings. And rings. Straight to voicemail. He tries again. Nothing.
“She’s not answering.” He is already up, yanking on his jeans. “I have to get home. Now.”
I scramble for my clothes, my hands shaking so badly I can barely manage the buttons. “Let's go.”
We fly down the stairs and out to my Jeep. I barely have time to grab my keys before Trace snatches them, throwing himself behind the wheel. The engine roars to life and we peel out of my driveway, gravel spraying.
The speedometer creeps higher and higher as we race through Bear Ridge’s quiet streets. When blue lights flash behind us, Trace doesn’t even slow down.
“Trace, it’s Lowe.”
“I don’t care if it’s the fucking president.”
But Lowe is persistent, lights flashing, siren wailing. I grab Trace’s arm. “Let him help. Please. He has resources—”
“I don’t need his help!” Trace’s knuckles are white on the steering wheel. “I need to get to my daughter.”
We screech into his driveway, and my heart stops. Rosa’s car is gone. Trace bursts through the front door, calling their names. The house echoes back silence.
That’s when I see Jelena’s favorite stuffed unicorn lying in the middle of the floor. Jelenaa never leaves without it. Which means…
“They’re gone.” Trace’s voice is hollow. Empty. Like something vital has been ripped out of him.
Lowe appears in the doorway, weapon drawn. “Arroyo! Hands where I can see them!”
“Not now, Sheriff.” Trace is already moving, grabbing his keys. “I have to find them.”
“You’re not going anywhere until—”
“My daughter is missing!” The words explode out of him. “Rosa took her. So either help me or get the hell out of my way.”
I step between them, facing Lowe. “Please. Help us find them. Before anyone does something they can’t take back.”
Lowe’s stern expression wavers. He pulls out his radio, barking orders to his on-call deputies. Within minutes, Nick and Justin’s voices crackle back, confirming they are on their way.
My throat tightens. Nick and Justin. My brothers. Which means my father will know soon, if he doesn’t already. Part of me wants to scream at the idea of him being involved in this, too, but I push the feeling down. This isn’t about me or my issues. This is about finding Jelena and Rosa before something terrible happens.
Trace paces the living room like a caged animal while Lowe coordinates the search. Every time his phone buzzes, he lunges for it, hope and fear warring on his face. But Rosa remains silent, her last message hanging over us like a storm cloud.
“We’ll find them,” I whisper, though my own heart is breaking. For Trace. For Jelena. For Rosa, who’s obviously been hurting more than any of us had realized.
The sound of another car pulling into the driveway makes us all turn. My father steps out of his Mercedes, and my stomach clenches. Here to gloat? To say I told you so, about trusting people who weren’t our kind?But the look on his face isn’t smug. It is worried. Determined. Maybe even a little bit human.
“I want to help,” my father says, his voice gruff but sincere. “Tell me where you need me.”The words hang in the air between us. Trace stares at him for a long moment, then gives a sharp nod. I watch, stunned, as my father joins Lowe at the kitchen table, where they’ve spread out a map of Bear Ridge.
“I need to go look for them.” Trace heads for the door, but Lowe blocks his path.
“You need to stay here.” Lowe’s voice is firm but not unkind. “We’ll search the area. They can’t have gone far. But if we don’t find them quickly…” He lets out a heavy breath. “I’ll have to call in the FBI. Time is crucial in these situations.”
“The FBI?” My voice cracks. “It’s Rosa. She wouldn’t—”
“They’ll want to talk to you,” Lowe continues, focusing on Trace. “And I need to ask you something hard right now.” He steps closer, lowering his voice. “Do you think there’s any chance Rosa would hurt herself? Or Jelena?”
Trace staggers like he’s been hit. The color drains from his face. “No,” he says brokenly. “God, no. But…” His voice catches. “I never thought she’d do something like this either.”
“Good enough.” Lowe nods grimly. “Let’s hope that’s true.” He turns to Officer Chen, who’s just arrived. “Stay with them. I’ll radio if we find anything.”
I wrap my arms around Trace as Lowe and my father head out. His whole body trembles beneath my touch. All we can do now is wait. And pray.
“We found them.” Chen’s radio crackles to life with my father’s voice. “Miller’s Inn off Route 40. They’re having breakfast in the dining room. Rosa’s car is in the lot.”
Trace is already moving. “On my way.”
“Wait.” Lowe’s voice cuts through the radio. “Let me handle this. We don’t know what a cornered person might do—”
“She won’t hurt Jelena.” Trace snatches up his keys. “But you showing up with a badge will only make things worse. Her husband was killed by a cop. She has no love for law enforcement.”
Silence crackles over the radio. Then Lowe’s voice, tight with new understanding: “You’re saying I’ll make her nervous.”
“I’m saying let me talk to her.” Trace’s voice breaks. “Please. She’s family. She’s hurting. The last thing she needs is an officer walking in there.”
I grab my purse, already moving toward the door. No way is he doing this alone.
“Fine.” Lowe doesn’t sound happy. “But I’m coming too. I’ll stay back unless needed.”
The drive to Miller’s Inn is the longest ten minutes of my life. Trace’s hands are white-knuckled on the wheel. I reach over, covering his right hand with mine. He doesn’t acknowledge the touch, but some of the tension leaks from his shoulders.When we pull into the lot, I spot Rosa’s car immediately. Through the diner’s big window, I can see them. Jelena is happily eating pancakes, syrup smeared across her chin. Rosa sits across from her, head bowed, hands wrapped around a coffee cup that has to be cold by now.
“Let me go first,” Trace says as we get out of the car. Lowe nods, staying by his cruiser.
I follow Trace into the diner, my heart in my throat. The bell above the door chimes, making Rosa’s head snap up. The look on her face – fear, guilt, desperation – makes my chest ache.“Rosa,” Trace says softly.
And that’s when the tears start falling.
The tears roll down Rosa’s cheeks as Jelena spots Trace and squeals, “Daddy!” She scrambles down from her seat and runs to him.
“I’m sorry,” Rosa chokes out. “I wasn’t thinking straight. I just… everything was changing, and I got scared and—” She covers her face with her hands. “I was bringing her back. I swear. I just needed a minute to breathe. To pretend nothing was changing.”
Trace scoops up Jelena, pressing a kiss to her sticky face before setting her back down. “Did you have good pancakes, princess?”
“With extra syrup!” Jelena beams, oblivious to the tension. “And Auntie Rosa let me have chocolate milk!”
“Baby, why don’t you show Noel your pancakes?” Trace’s voice is gentle, but his eyes never leave Rosa. Once Jelena is settled with me at the counter, he slides into the booth across from Rosa.
“Talk to me,” he says softly. “Really talk to me.”
“I’ve lost so much.” Rosa’s voice cracks. “My husband. My home. And now… now it feels like I’m losing my place with Jelena too. I know it’s not rational. I know I was wrong. I just panicked.”
“You’re not losing your place.” Trace reaches across the table, gripping her hands. “No one could ever replace you in Jelena’s life. You’re her Auntie Rosa. Always will be.”
That’s when Lowe steps forward, his face set in hard lines. “This is still kidnapping,” he says, stepping forward once Trace has Jelena secure in his arms. “I have to take you in.”
Rosa’s tear stained face hardens. “Of course you do. Because everything’s black and white for men like you, isn’t it? No room for human feelings in your precious law books.”
“The law exists to protect people.” Lowe’s jaw tightens. “Especially children.”
“Protect?” Rosa laughs, but it is a broken sound. “Like the law protected my husband? Shot dead for reaching for his wallet?”
I watch Trace’s face change. He steps between Rosa and Lowe. “She had my permission to take Jelena anywhere in town. This isn’t kidnapping. She’s family.”He says, daring anyone to contradict him.
“That’s not how it works—” Lowe starts.
“That’s exactly how it works.” Trace’s voice is steel. “Are you telling me every time a trusted family member takes a kid to breakfast, they’re kidnapping? Because that’s not what the law says.”
Lowe’s eyes narrow. “She texted you that she was taking the child.”
“I was upset,” Rosa whispers. “I would never… I just needed time. Space to think. I was bringing her back.”
“The law—” Lowe begins again.
“Sometimes the law needs to see the bigger picture.” I surprise myself by speaking up. “Sometimes being human matters more than being right.”
Lowe looks between us, his face a storm of conflicting emotions. Finally, he steps back. “Fine. But this better never happen again.”
“It won’t.” Rosa’s voice is quiet but steady as she meets his gaze.
Something flickers in Lowe’s eyes – anger? Guilt? But Rosa is already turning away, gathering her purse with trembling hands.
“I’ll get my things from the house,” she says to Trace. “I think… I think I need some time. The bed and breakfast on Oak has monthly rates.”
“Rosa—” Trace starts.
“Please.” She touches Jelena’s cheek softly. “I’m not leaving. I just need space to adjust. To figure out where I fit now.”
I watch as something shifts in Lowe's expression. Like maybe, he is starting to realize that not everything can be sorted into neat categories of right and wrong.
Some things just are. Messy. Complicated. Human.
***
I stack the last plate in the dishwasher, exhausted but grateful. The house still buzzes with the warmth of everyone who’d come together today – our impromptu thank-you gathering for the search volunteers. Even my father had stayed, though he’d mainly stood in corners looking awkward and nursing the same beer.
“Enough.” Trace comes up behind me, taking the dishtowel from my hands. “You’re dead on your feet.”
“There’s still—”
“Nothing that can’t wait.” He tugs me toward the living room, where our Christmas tree glows, casting colorful twinkling lights on the walls. Jelena had conked out hours ago, worn out from her adventure and the evening’s excitement.
We sink onto the couch together, and I curl into his side, letting out a breath I feel like I’ve been holding all day. His arms come around me, strong and sure.
“I was trying to tell you something this morning,” he whispers against my hair. “Before everything went to hell.”
“Hmm?”
“When I told Rosa my future was with you…” His chest rises and falls under my cheek. “I meant now. Forever. That’s what freaked her out. Hell, it freaks me out too.”
I sit up, my heart suddenly racing. “Trace?”
“Thing is,” he continues, reaching into his pocket, “being Jelena’s father taught me something important. Sometimes you gotta face your fears head-on.” He pulls out a small velvet box, and my breath catches. “And right now? I’m not afraid. Not of this. Not of us.”
The ring catches the Christmas lights as he opens the box. Simple, elegant – exactly what I would have chosen.
“I’ve had this since I came back to Bear Ridge.” His voice roughens. “Been carrying it around, waiting for the right moment. But after today… I realized there’s never going to be a perfect moment. There’s just us, choosing each other. Every day.”
Tears blur my vision as he slides off the couch, down to one knee.
“Marry me, Sunshine. Be my wife, be Jelena’s mom, be everything you already are to us – just make it official. What do you say?”
I can’t speak. Can’t breathe. But I can move. I slide down to my knees in front of him, taking his face in my hands.
“Yes,” I whisper against his lips. “Every day.”
The ring fits perfectly. Like it has been waiting for me all along. Like everything has been waiting for this moment, this man, this family we are building together.
His kiss tastes like promises. Like future. Like home.