Chapter 32
Sleep never really came.
Shylo had dozed for a few minutes here and there, but every time she closed her eyes, she saw Seth standing in the barn, his body tense. She still heard the hurt in his voice and felt the hollow ache left behind after he'd asked her to leave.
By the time dawn crept through the guest room curtains, she'd given up trying to sleep.
After showering and dressing, she put her damp hair up into a ponytail, then made her way downstairs, following the scent of bacon and fresh coffee into the kitchen.
The long dining table was already filling with people.
Shane sat at one end, a coffee mug in hand, while Tucker spoke with a few ranch hands who’d already dug into their breakfast. Paige was buttering a piece of toast, Ashley beside her in a highchair, while Mya deposited a bowl of sausage gravy and a basket of fresh biscuits on the table.
Shylo hesitated in the doorway.
"Morning," Shane said when he spotted her, a genuine smile crossing his face. "Grab a plate. There’s plenty, and it’s delicious."
She returned the smile as best she could and slipped into an empty chair.
Almost immediately, she noticed two people missing.
Seth.
And Arianna.
As though reading her thoughts, Paige glanced toward the empty chair usually occupied by her eldest daughter.
“Ari had a sleepover last night at her friend Joey’s house,” she explained.
“You met her parents, Nicole and Hank, at the barbecue. They live about fifteen minutes away. But don’t worry.
Tucker followed them home to make sure no one else did.
They've got an excellent security system and two very protective mutts.”
It eased her mind knowing Arianna was safe. But the guilt that the extra measures were necessary only grew heavier.
Conversation continued around the table, mostly about cattle, fencing, feed deliveries, and the weather. She listened more than she talked, answering when someone asked her a question but otherwise picking at her breakfast.
Everyone was friendly, and no one seemed to blame her for the shift in normal ranch activities.
If anything, they went out of their way to make her feel included.
That somehow made her feel worse. She couldn't shake the feeling that the usual comfortable banter around the table had been replaced by something more careful because of her.
The scrape of chairs echoed through the room as the ranch hands carried their plates to the sink before heading outside. Tucker followed after a few final words with Shane, while Mya disappeared into the kitchen to start on the dishes.
When the room finally quieted, Paige focused on cleaning bits of scrambled egg from Ashley's fingers and cheeks with a damp washcloth.
Shane thumbed through what appeared to be a stack of invoices, jotting notes in the margins.
Wrapping both hands around her coffee mug, Shylo gathered the courage to say what she needed to say.
“I've been thinking...” The words came out softer than she'd intended, drawing Shane's attention. Paige paused in the middle of cleaning Ashley's hands.
Shylo took a slow breath. “Maybe I should leave Hazard Falls. The only reason Troy followed me here is that he thinks I'll get money from Shane and give him half of it. If I leave Kansas, he'll have no reason to stay here threatening all of you.”
Shane didn't answer right away. He studied her, then set down his coffee mug.
“No.” The single word wasn't angry or raised in frustration. It was calm, unwavering, and left no room for argument. “If you decide to leave after he's taken care of, that's your choice. But I'm not letting him run you out of my life when we just found each other.”
Paige dropped the washcloth on her plate. “Shane’s right, Shylo. You belong here. Don’t let Troy chase you out of town.”
Before she could protest, a thunderous pounding shook the front door.
Shylo jumped so hard her coffee sloshed over the rim of the mug, splashing onto her fingers. Thankfully, it had cooled enough not to burn her.
Her pulse lurched into a frantic rhythm before she even heard the voice.
“Shylo!”
Every ounce of color drained from her face. He'd found her.
Panic crashed through her. “That’s him—Troy.”
Shane was already moving. His chair scraped across the floor as he rose, unsnapping the retention strap on the holster at his hip.
“Mya...” His voice stayed calm despite the urgency. “Take Ashley, Paige, and Shylo to your room. Lock the door.”
The housekeeper appeared almost instantly from the kitchen. Wide-eyed, she hurried across the dining room as Paige lifted Ashley from her highchair.
“No, I’m staying,” Paige said, placing the little girl into Mya's arms instead of following. “Get Ashley out of here.”
“Paige—”
“I'm staying. End of story.”
He rolled his eyes as though he'd already lost the argument. “Fine. Get the shotgun and call the police.” His attention returned to Shylo. “Go with Mya.”
She shook her head. “No. He’s here because of me. I’ll talk to him.”
The front door shuddered beneath another violent blow.
“Hey, faggot!” Troy bellowed. “Where's my sister... and the money?”
“Doesn't exactly sound like he wants to have a rational conversation.” Shane glanced through the dining room window toward the backyard. “Damn it.”
He stepped toward Shylo. “Go out the back door and run to the horse barn. Get Tuck and whoever else is there.”
She couldn't move.
More hammering echoed through the house. Her gaze darted toward the foyer before returning to Shane, who pointed toward the back door. “Go.”
Her legs refused to cooperate.
“Go!” he barked. “Hurry!”
The command finally cut through her terror. She spun around and ran.
Getting Shylo out of the house accomplished several things at once.
Foremost, it kept her out of the line of fire.
And just as important, it denied Troy the leverage he was looking for.
Shane wasn't about to bargain with the man, and he had no intention of letting Shylo become a pawn in whatever twisted plan Troy had cooked up.
And if she was safely away from the house, she couldn't throw herself between them, trying to protect him—a gesture he had little doubt she'd make, no matter how misguided.
It was bad enough that Paige had refused to leave. But at least he knew his wife could handle herself, even while pregnant.
As Shylo bolted through the back door, he drew the Glock from the holster riding on his hip and moved toward the living room, keeping well away from the narrow windows flanking the front door. Years on the ranch had taught him there was no sense in giving a raging bull an easy target.
Behind him, Paige ended the call to Hazard P.D. as she crossed into the den. A second later, he heard the scrape of wood against stone as she lifted the twelve-gauge from the hooks above the fireplace, followed by the unmistakable metallic sound of a shell being chambered.
Despite everything, the corner of his mouth twitched.
“Try not to shoot me in the ass,” he said in a low voice.
“I'll do my best,” she replied without missing a beat. “But no promises if you zig when I think you're going to zag.”
He huffed a quiet breath that almost passed for a laugh. Almost.
Keeping low, he eased toward the front window until he could see the porch through the edge of the curtain.
Troy paced at the bottom of the porch steps, unable to stand still for more than a few seconds. He stalked in one direction, muttered to himself, then spun back toward the house as if he'd forgotten where he was going. His movements were sharp, restless, and a little too quick.
Shane had no idea what the man was on, but he was clearly under the influence of something. More importantly, though, both of his hands were empty—for now.
“Stay inside and out of sight,” he said to Paige. He pointed at the shotgun. “Only use that if he gets past me and tries to get in here.”
He wouldn't. Shane wouldn't let him.
Moving to the foyer, he unlocked the deadbolt and stepped onto the porch, easing the front door closed behind him.
Troy had started back toward his truck, muttering under his breath, but the sound of the door opening made him stop. He turned slowly, a grin spreading across his face as his gaze traveled from Shane's boots to the pistol riding openly on his hip before finally settling on his face.
Shane met his stare without blinking. Up close, Troy looked rougher than he'd expected.
Bloodshot eyes. Several days' worth of stubble shadowed his jaw, and his worn, wrinkled clothes suggested he'd slept in them.
There was an intensity about him that raised every instinct Shane had spent a lifetime trusting.
Whatever was driving the man, reason wasn't likely to be part of it.
“Soooo...” Troy shoved both hands into the pockets of his jeans. “You're the rich one in the family.”
“I'm not your family.”
Troy shrugged, completely unfazed. “Well... almost family.”
Shane descended the porch steps at an unhurried pace, stopping well short of Troy. He had no intention of giving the man a chance to close the distance on his terms. If this went sideways, he'd rather it happen halfway across the yard than within arm's reach of the front door.
“No. We're not almost family. You're nothing to me.” He held Troy's gaze. “You've got exactly thirty seconds to get back in your truck and leave my property.”
Troy laughed as if Shane had told a joke before gesturing toward the sprawling ranch. “You got all this land, all these cattle, all this money. Seems kinda selfish not to share a little with your long-lost sister.”
“That doesn’t concern you. My sister doesn't owe you a damn thing. She wants nothing to do with you.”
The grin slipped. “Oh, she owes me.”
“No. She doesn't.” Shane rested his hand on the butt of his gun, the gesture a silent warning.
Troy glanced around the ranch as though taking it all in, then looked back at Shane. Rubbing a finger over his chin, he took a slow step forward. “Look, we don't have to make this ugly. You write her a check, she gives me my half, everybody wins.”
Shane held his ground. There wasn't any point arguing with a man who'd convinced himself he was entitled to money that had never been his.
Movement on either side of the house drew Troy’s attention.
He turned enough for Shane to follow his gaze.
Tucker led several ranch hands around one corner while Seth, Jamie, and two more came from the other.
Some carried rifles or shotguns with the barrels angled toward the ground, while others wore handguns openly at their hips.
No one aimed a weapon at Troy. Their presence alone made it clear he wasn’t welcome on the Triple-R.
His swagger faltered.
It lasted only a second before the cocky smile returned. “Little overkill, don't you think?”
Nobody answered.
Then Shylo came into view behind Tucker, her shoulders rigid, her hands clenched into fists at her sides.
Troy's smile vanished. “There you are.”
“You need to leave, Troy,” she said.
He barked out a humorless laugh. “You really think these people give a damn about you?”
“They're my family.”
Troy's face darkened. He took two quick steps toward her before the muzzle of Tucker's shotgun rose to chest level. Troy stopped short, then jabbed a finger at Shylo. “So am I!”
She crossed her arms. “Not anymore.”
Shane was proud of her. Twenty-four hours ago, she hadn't been sure she belonged here. Now, she was claiming them without hesitation.
Troy sneered as he glanced around at the men. “They're a bunch of suckers.”
“And you're trespassing,” Shane said. “So unless you'd like to explain yourself to the police, who are on their way, I'd suggest you leave—and don’t come back.”
Troy's gaze flickered toward the county road before returning to Shane. After a long moment, he let out an exaggerated sigh.
“All right... all right.” He lifted both hands shoulder-high. “I'm going.”
He backed toward his truck without taking his eyes off Shylo. After climbing into the driver's seat, he leaned out the open window. His smirk returned as though this had all been a game. “See you around... sister.”
Shane's gaze followed the pickup as it raced down the long driveway, a trail of dust billowing behind it.
Around the yard, shoulders relaxed, conversations resumed, and a few of the ranch hands strolled away, casting a backward glance or two.
Shane remained where he was until the truck turned onto the county road and disappeared in a cloud of dust. Troy hadn't backed down because he'd changed his mind. He was just outnumbered.
Tucker strode over and came to a stop beside him. “He's not gonna give up that easy.”
“Nope.”