Chapter 14
chapter
fourteen
Voices drifted from outside as Millie reached the kitchen.
She slowed near the window and spotted Caleb speaking with a man who was tall and broad.
Wyatt, she realized. Caleb’s brother. She remembered his picture from the office. A beautiful German shepherd sat near his feet.
Snippets of the conversation caught her ear. Without realizing what she was doing, she leaned closer.
With each new detail, her muscles tightened.
People with the local government were questioning what this place really was?
That meant the shelter might be at risk—all because of bureaucracy.
It sounded like a case Garrick would take on if the county came to him for help. He’d always had money in his eyes—wealth and image were the most important things to him. Definitely more important than morals or causes.
Millie stepped away from the window before anyone noticed her. Her pulse ticked faster as she moved down the hall.
She’d come here because she needed somewhere safe. Somewhere quiet. A place where she could stop looking over her shoulder.
She hadn’t thought much about what it took to keep a place like this running.
Or how careful everyone had to be. How many decisions had to be weighed. How one wrong move could affect more than one person.
Her chest tightened.
What if she’d just added to the trouble here by doing that internet search? How would she forgive herself if she did?
Caleb breathed in and out until the knot in his chest eased a notch.
Wyatt’s words still pressed hard as he rode the riding lawn mower across the front yard. Soon, he wouldn’t have to do this. But he still had a couple more cuts this season before the cold air invaded and he could call it quits.
His thoughts continued to churn as he turned the mower and made another pass.
They needed more help here. That much was obvious.
More hands meant fewer gaps, fewer long nights where one person covered too much ground.
But more people also meant more possible exposure. More chances for someone to say the wrong thing to the wrong person.
They needed money too. Cameras. Reinforced gates. Better lighting.
That kind of infrastructure came at a price. Donors liked success stories. They liked numbers. They liked seeing where their money went.
Plus, if the county kept asking questions . . .
Caleb exhaled through his nose and kept cutting the grass.
Running this shelter hadn’t been part of his long-term plan. Just as Millie had reminded him, he’d wanted to be career military. Had wanted to advance up the ranks. Be the hero behind the scenes.
Then Sarah had been killed.
The thought landed the same way it always did—hard and abrupt, like he stepped off a curb he hadn’t seen coming.
When Richard had become violent, Sarah hadn’t needed grand gestures.
She’d needed options. Somewhere to go. Somewhere she could take the animals she loved without choosing between safety and abandonment.
Richard had taken advantage of that gap, of how trapped she’d felt. Of how alone.
Caleb’s jaw tightened as he turned to make another line across the grass.
Someone had to build what hadn’t existed for her. Someone had to make sure other women didn’t run out of time or options.
After Sarah’s death, Caleb knew he couldn’t simply move on and resume life. Not after what had happened.
He needed to do something in her honor.
If only he’d known just how bad things were for her. He would have helped her.
But he hadn’t been there. He’d been in the Middle East, fighting other battles while one had raged right here at home.
And that guilt would never leave him. It shouldn’t leave him.
If he’d been around more, maybe she would still be alive.
He knew he couldn’t bring her back. The only thing he could do was run this place and help other women who’d been in her shoes.
As soon as he’d been able, he’d gotten out of the military and set this plan into motion with the help of his brothers and sisters.
When Naomi asked who could take point—who could step in and run things—there hadn’t been a debate. Luke was caught up with his career as a contractor in Charlottesville. Rowan was in Hollywood. Wyatt wasn’t a people person. Naomi had been dealing with her own situation in New York.
Caleb made the most sense.
He’d stepped out of the structured life he’d been trained for, and into another without clear directions or any kind of a road map.
But he’d make it work. He had to for Sarah.
Thankfully, Naomi had decided to move back also so she could help. He couldn’t do this without her. She was the business brains behind this while he was the brawn.
He reached the far corner of the property and turned, scanning the tree line. Branches clothed with colorful leaves clawed at the blue sky.
The woods looked quiet.
He cut the engine, taking a break for a moment.
That’s when he heard a faint sound in the air.
Caleb stopped.
It wasn’t wind. The noise was too steady. Too mechanical.
His head lifted slowly, gaze tracking upward.
Movement cut across the sky.
Small. Dark. Fast.
His gut tightened when he realized what he was looking at.
A drone hovered above him.