Chapter 6 - Colt
I love talking to her.
It's been so fucking long since I've had a real conversation with someone. Since I've wanted to know more than just whether they're coming home with me. Since I've cared about what's behind the nice body and the pretty face.
But with Harper, I want to know everything. What makes her laugh. What hurt her so badly that she ran all the way to Montana. What she dreams about when she lets herself dream. What made her walk into that bar last night looking like the weight of the world was on her shoulders.
And I want to make sure this night doesn't end. I want to keep her talking, keep her smiling, keep her here with me for as long as she'll stay.
I extend my arm toward her, palm up, and she looks at it for a second before placing her hand in mine. Her palm is soft and small, and when I help her up from the chair, she's close enough that I catch that subtle scent again. Something clean and a little sweet, nothing overpowering.
"There's this place," I tell her, keeping her hand in mine as we head toward the door. "Open late on Friday nights. Has the best burgers in town, and it's only about ten minutes away on foot."
She glances up at me, and there's a hint of amusement in those amber eyes. "In a town like Blackwater Falls, isn't everything just ten minutes away?"
Fuck. She's funny, too. "Pretty much true," I admit. "But the town still holds a lot of secret places. You gotta live here to know where they are."
"Secret burger places?"
"Among other things." I push open the door, holding it for her as we step out into the night.
The air is cool and crisp, that perfect Montana temperature where you need a jacket but not a heavy one.
Above us, the moon is full and bright, casting silver light over everything.
It's the kind of night that makes you want to stay outside, to walk instead of drive, to take your time instead of rushing.
Harper tilts her head back, looking up at the sky. "Wow. You can actually see the stars here."
"Not much light pollution in a town this small." I start walking, and she falls into step beside me, our hands still loosely linked. "Where are you from that you can't see stars?"
"Denver," she says. "Well, the suburbs. But still too much city light to see much of anything."
"Denver's nice. Been there a few times for cattle auctions."
"It is nice," she agrees, but there's something in her tone that suggests nice isn't enough anymore. That whatever she left behind in Denver wasn't worth staying for.
We walk in silence for a minute, passing the hardware store and the post office, both closed for the night. The streets are quiet except for the distant sound of music from the bar we just left and the occasional car passing by.
"So, tell me more about these secret places," Harper says. "What else is hidden in Blackwater Falls?"
"Well, there's a swimming hole about three miles outside town that the locals use in summer.
Best fishing spot in the state, according to Boone, though I think he's biased.
And there's this overlook up in the hills where you can see the whole valley.
Frank used to take us up there when we were kids. "
"Frank was the guy who owned the ranch, right?"
"Yeah." Just thinking about Frank makes my chest ache. "He was more of a father to me than my actual father ever was. Took me in when I was fourteen, gave me a place to belong. Did the same for my brother and the other four guys."
"That's incredible," Harper says softly. "Not many people would do that."
"No, not many would." I point ahead to a large oak tree on the corner. "See that tree? Broke my head on it once."
She stops walking, staring at the tree. "How do you break your head on a tree?"
"Was riding my bike when I was younger. Maybe fifteen or sixteen.
Going way too fast, showing off for some girl whose name I can't even remember now.
Didn't see the turn coming, went straight into the wall next to the tree.
" I gesture to the brick wall bordering someone's property.
"Knocked myself out cold. Woke up with Boone standing over me looking like he was gonna cry. "
"Oh my God." But she's smiling, probably picturing teenage me being an idiot. "Did you learn your lesson about showing off?"
"Absolutely not," I say honestly. "Pretty sure I was back on the bike the next week doing the same stupid shit."
She laughs, and the sound does something to me. Makes me want to keep talking, keep telling her stories, just to hear that laugh again.
We pass the library, the small park with the ancient playground equipment that's probably a safety hazard but nobody's bothered to replace. Each building has a story, a memory, something that makes this town feel like home.
"How long have you lived here?" Harper asks.
"My whole life," I tell her. "Born and raised in Blackwater Falls. Never really left except for the occasional trip to other towns for supplies or cattle stuff."
"Never?" She sounds surprised. "Not even to see what else is out there?"
"I thought about college once," I admit.
"Right after high school. Everyone was talking about where they were applying, what they wanted to study.
But the more I thought about it, the more I realized there's nothing I'd want to learn that I can't just learn online or from experience.
And I couldn't picture leaving the ranch. Leaving this life."
"So, you just... stayed?"
"Yeah." I squeeze her hand. "I love ranch life, Harper.
Love working in the field, getting my hands dirty, being outside all day.
Love working with the animals, seeing the results of what we build.
There's something satisfying about physical work, about creating something real instead of sitting in an office somewhere pushing papers. "
She's quiet for a moment, processing this. "I think that's beautiful," she says finally. "Knowing where you belong. Being satisfied with what you have instead of always chasing something more."
"You sound like you've been chasing something more."
"Maybe I have been." She squeezes my hand back. "Maybe that's part of what I'm running from. The constant feeling that nothing was ever enough."
I want to ask more. I want to know what wasn't enough, who made her feel like she had to keep chasing, but before I can, we round the corner and the burger place comes into view.
Murphy's Grill is a hole-in-the-wall joint that's been here longer than I have. The sign is faded, the paint is peeling, and the whole place looks like it should have been condemned years ago. But the food is incredible and Old Man Murphy doesn't give a shit about appearances.
"This is your secret place?" Harper asks, eyeing the building.
"Trust me."
We're almost to the door when I notice them: two motorcycles parked out front, gleaming chrome and black leather. And more specifically, the cuts the riders are wearing when I glance through the window.
Savage Riders MC.
I feel Harper tense beside me, her hand tightening in mine. She's seen them too, probably seen the skull logo, and she's doing the math that motorcycles plus leather plus skulls equals danger.
"Colt," she whispers. "Maybe we should go somewhere else."
"It's fine," I assure her, though I understand her concern. The Savage Riders have a reputation, and not always a good one.
"They're in a motorcycle club," she hisses, like I might not have noticed. "With skulls on their jackets."
"Yeah, they're an MC," I acknowledge, stopping just outside the door. "But they're also the town's protectors, in a weird way. They handle things the sheriff can't or won't. Keep the real trouble out of Blackwater Falls."
"That doesn't sound legal."
"It's not always," I admit. "But unless you're doing something illegal yourself, you're fine. They don't bother locals. Actually, they're pretty decent guys once you get to know them. Can they be violent? Sure. But they're also fair. They have a code, and they stick to it."
She's still looking uncertain, and I can't really blame her. If you're not from here, the Savage Riders probably look like exactly the kind of people you should avoid.
"I know King, their president," I add. "The MC has always had a good relationship with the ranch."
"You know the president of a motorcycle club," she repeats.
"Small town," I remind her with a grin. "Everyone knows everyone. Including the guys in leather cuts with skulls on their backs. And honestly, I have no idea what King's real name even is. Everyone just calls him King."
She takes a deep breath, then seems to steel herself. "Okay. But if this goes badly, I'm blaming you."
"Fair enough." I pull open the door, and the smell of burgers and fries immediately hits us. "Come on. You're gonna love this place."
Inside, Murphy's is exactly what you'd expect.
Worn booths, checkered floors that have seen better decades, and a counter with stools where Old Man Murphy himself is flipping burgers on an ancient grill.
The two Savage Riders members are sitting in a corner booth, backs to us, focused on their food and conversation.
Murphy looks up as we enter, and his weathered face breaks into a surprised grin. "Well, I'll be damned. Colt Sullivan with a girl who ain't running for the door."
"Nice to see you too, Murphy," I say dryly, guiding Harper toward the counter stools.
"And a pretty one at that." Murphy wipes his hands on his grease-stained apron, looking at Harper with open curiosity. "You new in town, sweetheart?"
"Just got here yesterday," Harper says, and I can hear the nervousness in her voice. She's still suspicious of the two MC members in the corner, even though they haven't so much as glanced our way.
"Well, welcome to Blackwater Falls." Murphy slides two plastic menus across the counter. "Any friend of Colt's gets the good treatment here."
"I didn't know there was bad treatment," I joke, settling onto a stool and pulling one out for Harper.