Chapter 53
Bridlepath Farm
The farmhouse was quiet when Burke’s truck finally rolled into the drive.
Exhaustion hung over everything.
The mountains.
The fading blue lights.
The men climbing slowly out of patrol units after a night that had stretched into forever.
Grant came around the truck immediately, opening the passenger door before Izzy could touch the handle.
Like he still needed to physically see she was there.
Alive.
Caitlin burst through the front door before they even reached the porch.
“Oh my God—”
She hit Izzy at full speed, arms wrapping around her so tightly it nearly knocked the breath from her lungs.
Izzy laughed shakily and cried at the same time.
“I’m okay,” she whispered.
Caitlin pulled back enough to cup her face.
“You scared me to death.”
Behind her, Naomi stood in the doorway with one hand pressed to her heart, eyes glassy with relief.
“Well,” she said thickly, “it’s about damn time somebody brought you home.”
That nearly broke Izzy all over again.
Grant’s hand settled quietly against the small of her back as they stepped inside.
Warmth hit her immediately.
Coffee.
Wood.
The familiar scent of the farmhouse.
Safe.
For the first time since that black SUV pulled into the yard, the fight finally drained out of her, replaced by the quiet, heavy reality that she was actually going to survive.
Naomi fussed instantly.
“There’s hot water ready upstairs, clean towels in the bathroom, and if either one of you tells me you aren’t hungry, I’ll personally fight you.”
That pulled the first real smile out of Izzy.
Burke appeared in the doorway behind them, exhausted down to his bones.
“You good if we head out?” he asked Grant quietly.
Grant nodded once.
“Yeah.”
Caitlin hugged Izzy one more time before stepping back.
“I’m calling you later.”
“You better.”
Burke gave Izzy a tired smile.
Then his eyes shifted toward Grant.
Something passed silently between the brothers.
Take care of her.
Grant gave the slightest nod.
Always.
* * *
The front door closed behind them.
And suddenly the farmhouse went still.
Only this time it felt different.
Upstairs, hot water poured over Izzy’s shoulders while steam filled the bathroom.
She stood there longer than necessary, letting herself feel the bruises now that adrenaline had faded.
Wrists sore from zip ties.
Knees scraped.
Arms aching.
But alive.
She closed her eyes briefly.
Grant’s face when he reached her on that airstrip flashed hard through her mind.
The rage.
The fear.
The relief.
The way he grabbed her, as if letting go wasn’t an option anymore.
She closed her eyes.
When she finally came downstairs, dressed in soft clothes Naomi had left folded on the bed, the house was dim and quiet.
Sunlight spilled pale gold through the kitchen windows.
Grant stood at the counter, staring into a mug of coffee gone cold.
He didn’t look up immediately, his shoulders slumped with the weight of the last twenty-four hours.
When he finally heard her, he turned—and in three strides, he crossed the room, as if the gravity of the room had shifted solely toward her.
Neither spoke.
His hand closed gently around hers.
And suddenly she was pulled against him.
Grant buried his face briefly against her hair, arms locked around her like he still didn’t fully believe she was standing there.
Izzy held onto him just as tightly.
His voice was rough when he finally spoke.
“You have no idea how close I came to losing my mind up there.”
She looked up at him.
Grant shook his head once, jaw tightening again at the memory.
“When I saw that guy putting his hands on you…” He exhaled sharply. “Jesus Christ, Iz.”
Her throat tightened instantly.
“It was all I could do not to go down that mountain before Burke gave the order.”
A faint tremor still lingered underneath his voice.
Izzy touched his face softly.
“But you came.”
Grant looked at her a long second.
“Always.”
The word settled deep between them.
Then quietly, without another word, he took her hand and led her toward the couch.
The farmhouse was wrapped in mountain silence around them.
Grant sat first, then pulled her against him until her head rested against his chest beneath his arm.
Izzy listened to the steady beat of his heart while his fingers moved slowly through her damp hair.
At some point, her breathing slowed.
Then softened.
Grant looked down and realized she’d fallen asleep curled against him.
Carefully, he tightened his arms around her.
And for the first time since the nightmare began—
Grant Scott finally let himself breathe.