Chapter 17 #2
“You’ve got the main house here, bunkhouse here, barn here, all around the circular driveway,” he said, marking each.
“Have you ever thought of a community area in the center of the driveway? Fire pit, grill, a place for the men to hang out after work…” He waved that away.
“We can discuss that later. So you got Dr. Perrin’s office—”
“Please,” she interrupted. “Call me Johanna or Jo.”
“Oh.” He flushed a little. “Oh, okay. Well, Johanna’s office is in the converted pole barn, which has room for other things like a gym or a workshop. The guest cabins are mostly scattered along the left side of the road here.” He looked up. “Where were you thinking of putting the new cabins?”
“Here,” Walker answered, leaning forward to point it out on the rough map.
“The main road runs between the east and west entrances, but there is a road that breaks off south just past the barn and loops back around to the north, coming out by the east entrance. This land between the roads is all empty.”
Jonah nodded and marked the area. “That makes sense. So you’d want to extend utilities from the main line here…” His pen moved confidently as he spoke, mapping out infrastructure.
Walker stared at the rapidly expanding plan, impressed. “You’ve given this some thought for a guy who was ready to leave last night.”
“Just… basic logistics.” Color crept up Jonah’s neck into his cheeks. “I couldn’t sleep.”
Johanna gently elbowed Walker’s side, and her lips curved into a small, satisfied smile. They’d both seen this happen before, with Boone and Bishop. A perfect match, a mission that fit like a key in a lock.
Jonah had found his purpose.
“Jesus,” Boone said, stabbing a bite of pancake. “You’re a full-on nerd, aren’t you?” But there was no bite to the words, just Boone’s particular brand of gruff humor.
Jonah’s shoulders tensed, but then he caught the slight upward quirk at the corner of Boone’s mouth.
“Yeah,” he admitted. He turned the napkin around so everyone could see. “If you’re serious about expanding, you need systems in place before you start building. Supply chains, operational protocols, proper staffing ratios.” He hesitated, then added, “I could help with that.”
“Not if you plan to leave,” Walker said, trying to keep his expression neutral but not quite succeeding. A smile twitched on his lips.
“Okay, look.” His eyes met Walker’s. “Yesterday, I didn’t know what I could contribute here, but this, this is something I can do. Logistics. Planning. Managing growth. I was the guy who made everything work in the Marines, and I was good at it.”
Walker set down his coffee mug. “You’re right. We do need someone to manage the expansion. Someone who understands both the practical side and the mission.” He held Jonah’s gaze. “Do you understand the mission?”
The younger man’s breath caught audibly. “Yeah. I do now.”
“Then welcome aboard,” Walker said simply and reached across to shake Jonah’s hand. “Help us grow Valor Ridge and make it work for more men like us.”
Jonah beamed. “I actually have more ideas…”
And he certainly did.
After a breakfast filled with more logistics chatter—the kid was really enthusiastic about supply chains—Walker found himself drawn back outside, pulled toward the fallen cottonwood.
The morning sun had climbed higher, turning the snow into a bright, painful glare that made him squint.
He stood at the edge of the porch, hands tucked into his coat pockets, staring at the deliberate destruction.
Someone had come onto his land, had threatened one of his men.
The knowledge sat like a stone in his gut, heavy and cold.
The screen door creaked open behind him. He didn’t need to turn to know it was Johanna—he recognized the pattern of her footsteps, the soft exhale of her breath as she stepped into the cold.
“You’re brooding,” she said, coming to stand beside him.
“Thinking,” he corrected. “There’s a difference.”
“Not from where I’m standing.” She folded her arms against the chill, her shoulder brushing his. “Jonah mentioned he found an ax.”
He exhaled a sound between a laugh and an exaggerated sigh. “Who would’ve guessed the kid likes to talk?”
“I did. I knew we hadn’t met the real Jonah yet. It’s nice to see him out of his shell.” She studied the tree. “So what are you going to do about it?”
Walker wasn’t sure if she meant the tree, Hank’s intimidation tactics, or something else entirely. He glanced at her profile—the stubborn tilt of her chin, the wisps of dark hair lifting in the winter breeze.
“Whatever’s necessary,” he said finally. “This goes beyond harassment. Someone tried to hurt one of ours.”
“You can’t go after Hank directly.” Her voice held a warning. “That’s exactly what he wants. Don’t give him a reason to shut us down.”
“I know that.” He shifted his weight, turned toward her slightly. “I’ll handle it. Legally. Above board.”
She looked up at him, doubt clear in her eyes. “Promise me.”
“Jo—”
“Promise me, Walker. We’re building something great here. Something that matters.” Her gaze intensified, holding his. “I won’t watch you throw it away on revenge.”
The sun caught in her hair, highlighting strands of copper he’d never noticed before.
Her cheeks were flushed from the cold, her breath forming small clouds between them.
Something about the moment—her concern, the morning light, the shared sense of protectiveness over what they’d created together—cracked open a space in his chest he’d kept carefully sealed.
“I promise,” he said, the words rough in his throat.
She nodded, relief softening her features. They stood in silence, shoulder to shoulder, looking out at the fallen giant and the crushed truck beyond. So close he could feel the warmth of her through his coat sleeve.
“We got lucky,” she murmured. “If Jonah and Boone had been in that truck...”
“I know. Let’s not think about it.”
The wind picked up, sending a shiver through Johanna. Or maybe that was the could’ve beens running through her head.
Without thinking, he put his arms around her and folded her against his chest. She looked up, surprised, their faces suddenly inches apart.
“Walker?”
He’d spent a year keeping a careful distance. A year of working side by side, of building something together while pretending they were just colleagues, just friends. A year of wanting and not having.
But it could’ve just as easily been her car under that tree.
Something in him broke loose—a dam he’d built to hold back everything he felt for her. His hands came up to frame her face, and before he could think better of it, he leaned down and kissed her.
It was a disaster from the start. Their noses bumped, and she tilted her head the wrong way, their foreheads knocking together. He adjusted, she moved in the same direction, and then their teeth clicked when their lips finally met. He felt her startled intake of breath against his mouth.
It was clumsy, awkward, nothing like the smooth, practiced kisses of his imagination. Nothing like their past, when they’d fit together so easily, it had scared him.
He pulled back, mortified. “I’m sorry, I—”
The screen door banged open. Boone stepped onto the porch with Jonah right behind him, both men stopping short.
Walker and Johanna jumped apart like guilty teenagers, though Boone’s knowing smirk suggested the damage was done.
“So that’s happening now?” Boone drawled.
Johanna’s face flushed deep red. “We just—I slipped on the ice,” she said, the lie transparent and desperate. “Walker caught me.”
Boone raised an eyebrow, glancing pointedly at the dry, snow-free porch beneath their feet. “With his mouth?”
“We’re just friends,” Johanna insisted, backing toward the door. “Colleagues. That’s all.” She straightened her sweater with trembling hands. “I need to... There are dishes.”
She disappeared inside, the screen door swinging shut behind her with a hollow bang that matched the sinking feeling in his chest.
For the first time in years, Walker Nash had let himself want something selfish. And he’d managed to mess it up in under ten fucking seconds.