Chapter 27
Asher
The knock came hard and fast, and then my cabin door pushed open. Claire practically fell into me. Her shoulders were shaking like she was trying not to fall apart completely.
“Claire...” I caught her by the arms. “Hey. Hey, look at me.”
She didn’t. She buried her face against my chest and clutched my shirt like it was the only thing keeping her upright. Fear punched straight through me. “Claire, tell me what happened,” I said, voice rougher than I meant it to be. “Are you hurt?”
She shook her head but didn’t answer. My hands moved over her arms, her shoulders, checking instinctively despite her silence.
“Talk to me,” I urged. “You’re scaring me.”
Her breath hitched again, and another sob broke loose. I wrapped my arms around her tighter, guiding her toward the couch. She collapsed beside me, still shaking. I grabbed a blanket and draped it around her shoulders.
“Hey,” I said softer this time, brushing damp hair away from her face. “You’re safe. Whatever happened, you’re here now.”
She tried to speak, but the words wouldn’t come. My chest tightened. It took several long minutes before her breathing slowed enough for her to look at me. Her eyes were red, mascara smudged beneath them.
“I... I went to see Nico,” she said finally.
Her words made my stomach sink. I swore under my breath and stood abruptly, pacing once before forcing myself back down.
“Damn, Claire.”
She flinched.
Guilt hit immediately. I rubbed a hand over my face, trying to rein myself in.
“I should’ve been there,” I muttered. “You shouldn’t have gone alone.”
Her eyes flashed despite the tears. “You would’ve stopped me.”
“Yeah,” I said flatly. “Because it wasn’t safe.”
She looked away. Silence stretched between us. I could see her trying to hold herself together.
I softened my voice. “Did he hurt you?”
“No,” she whispered quickly.
That didn’t make me feel better. I leaned forward, elbows on my knees, trying to stay calm. “Then what happened?”
She swallowed hard, fingers twisting in the blanket. “He told me what happened to Sophie.”
Everything inside me went still. I watched her carefully, the way her voice shook, the way she stared at nothing while describing the wilderness, the guide, the waiting, the horror she’d been forced to hear.
Each word made my stomach twist tighter.
By the time she finished, tears were sliding down her cheeks again.
I didn’t know what to say. What could you say to something like that?
I moved closer and pulled her against me again.
This time she came willingly, curling into my side like she didn’t have the strength to hold herself up.
“I’m so sorry,” I murmured into her hair.
Her voice broke. “I thought knowing would make it better.”
My chest ached. “Sometimes the truth just hurts.”
She shook her head. “I keep thinking about her being out there alone.”
I held her tighter as minutes passed in silence. The only sound was her breathing slowly evening out. My own heart was still pounding.
“You scared the hell out of me,” I admitted quietly.
She tilted her head up slightly. “I’m sorry.”
I brushed my thumb along her cheek. “I’m not mad. I’m just... worried about you.”
She closed her eyes. “I didn’t know where else to go,” she whispered.
That hit harder than anything else. I pressed a kiss to her forehead.
“You come here,” I said softly. “Always.”
Her fingers curled into my shirt again. For the first time since she came through the door, her body started to relax against mine.
I stayed still, letting her settle against me.
The tension slowly drained out of her body, like she’d been holding herself together by sheer force and finally didn’t have to anymore.
I shifted slightly so she could lean more comfortably against my chest. My hand kept moving up and down her back without thinking.
“Have you eaten today?” I asked quietly.
She shook her head against me. Of course she hadn’t.
“Stay here,” I murmured.
Her fingers tightened immediately. “Don’t go.”
“I’m just getting you something,” I said softly. “I’ll be right back.”
I moved to the kitchen and grabbed water and whatever snacks I could find. When I came back, she was sitting exactly where I left her, blanket wrapped around her shoulders like armor.
I handed her the glass of club soda. “Drink.”
She drank it without arguing.
“Good,” I said. “Now eat something.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“I don’t care,” I said gently. “A couple bites.”
She sighed but took the crackers. Watching her chew felt ridiculous and necessary at the same time. As if getting her to do normal things would anchor her back to reality. When she finished, I sat beside her again.
“You’re shaking,” I said.
“I can’t stop replaying it,” she whispered. “Everything he said.”
I pulled her closer. “It’s traumatic. What you’re feeling is normal, even if it’s terrifying.”
She leaned into me, exhausted. I brushed her hair back from her face. “Do you want a bath? Might help you relax a little.”
“Will you come with me?” she asked, sounding so vulnerable. So different from the happy girl I was used to.
“Of course,” I replied. I filled up the bath and added some lavender oil I had picked up in town.
I helped her undress and then took my own clothes off.
I was caring for a woman who meant more to me than I knew how to say.
A woman who was slowly claiming every corner of my heart.
I set two bath towels on the counter and slid into the bath first so she could lean on me.
“Thank you,” she said. “This feels really good.”
“You don’t need to thank me,” I replied, taking a loofah and squeezing warm water on her chest.
“Hmm, that feels nice,” she moaned, and I could feel her relaxing beneath me.
“Do I still need to be worried about you running off and doing dangerous things?” I asked. I knew the timing was bad and she was just relaxing, but my insides were twisting with worry over what could’ve happened to her today.
She took in a deep breath. “Even before I saw Nico today, I wanted to put this whole thing to rest, but something was still eating at me. I felt like I gave up on all my dreams for Sophie. If I’d come this far, I had to give it one last shot,” she explained.
“I can’t believe Nico admitted to murdering that guy,” I said out loud. The story was crazy.
“You aren’t going to tell your father, are you?” she asked. “I know he committed murder.”
“He took justice into his own hands, which is wrong. But from the sounds of it he made sure not to leave any evidence. The Belleroses are very good at that. My father’s been chasing Marcel for too long.
Becket thinks that this time the police will get them for good. That means Nico is going down too.”
“He doesn’t seem like such a bad guy,” Claire said, which put me on edge.
“He’s bad, Claire. He’s a criminal,” I said, my jaw so taut I thought it might snap.
“I know,” she agreed. “I just meant he had some sort of moral compass. Even if it was fuzzy. He got involved in the business to help his family, and I know what you’re going to say next, that he had a choice to work hard in school or at a business and make money the honest way, and I totally agree with you.
It’s just from my research, I’ve seen these cases where good people are led to make bad decisions. It’s just sad.”
“I hear you on that,” I agreed. She wasn’t wrong. She had a soft, kind heart and that wasn’t something I was going to fault her for.
“My parents are going to be angry with me, but I don’t want to finish my thesis, which means I need to drop out of my master’s program.”
“From what you told me, your parents are loving and supportive people,” I responded.
“They are, but they begged me not to take criminology. My real passion had always been environmental science,” she explained.
I stilled behind her, my hands resting lightly at her waist beneath the warm water.
“Environmental science?” I repeated. “That’s... kind of a jump from criminology.”
She gave a soft, tired laugh. “Yeah. Everyone says that.”
The steam curled around us. She leaned back more fully against me, trusting her weight to me now.
“I used to spend hours outside when I was younger,” she said quietly.
“Like... actually outside. Not just walking trails. I loved learning how ecosystems worked. Soil, water, plants, how everything connects.” She paused.
“In high school I thought I’d work in conservation or land restoration.
Something where I could help the environment instead of just writing papers about it. ”
I listened to how animated she sounded the more she spoke. Even exhausted, there was a spark there I hadn’t heard when she talked about her thesis.
“What happened?” I asked.
“Sophie went missing,” she said simply. Sophie’s name settled heavy between us.
“After she disappeared, it felt wrong to move on with my life when there were no answers. I switched directions. Started researching criminal cases. Thought if I understood how people went missing... I could find her.” She swallowed. “Then it just became my whole life.”
My hand moved slowly over her arm.
“You gave up something you loved,” I said.
She nodded.
“I miss working the land,” she admitted softly. “That’s part of why being here feels so good. The orchard... it’s grounding. Real. When I’m out there, checking soil moisture or watching how the trees respond to weather changes, my brain finally quiets down.”
I blinked. “You’ve been doing that?”
She laughed lightly. “You thought I was just picking apples?”
I smiled despite myself. “I figured you were just better at it than the rest of us.”
“I’ve been paying attention,” she said. “The soil in the north section drains differently than the south rows. Some of the trees near the lower slope are stressed from runoff. I noticed the leaves yellowing earlier than they should.”
That got my attention. “You’re serious.”
“Very,” she said. “There’s a whole field called sustainable land management. Studying soil health, biodiversity, water movement. Helping farms work with the land instead of against it.”
I stared at her profile for a second, something clicking into place.
“You’d be good at that,” I said quietly.
She went still. “I don’t know,” she whispered. “I feel like I’m starting over.”
“So?” I said. “People start over all the time.”
She tilted her head slightly, looking back at me. “You really think I could?”
I didn’t hesitate. “Yeah. I do.”
Because the way she talked about it felt different. Like I was hearing the girl I saw laughing in the orchard with sun on her face and dirt on her hands.
“You know,” I said slowly, “I’ve been trying to figure out how to improve the land since taking over. I’m learning as I go. Maybe you and I could... figure some of that out together.”
Her expression softened. “You’d trust me with that?”
I huffed a quiet laugh. “Claire, I trust you with a lot more than my trees.”
She smiled for the first time since she walked through my door tonight.
“I love working outside,” she said softly. “Feeling like I’m part of something growing. Like what I’m doing matters.”
“It does,” I said.
She leaned her head back against my shoulder, quieter now.
“I lost myself somewhere along the way,” she whispered. “Chasing answers. Trying to fix something that couldn’t be fixed.”
I tightened my arms around her slightly.
“Maybe this is you finding your way back,” I said.
The water rippled gently around us. For a while neither of us spoke.
Her breathing slowed. Her body finally went loose against mine.
The tension that had gripped her earlier was fading.
And as I held her there, warm and safe in my arms, I couldn’t stop thinking how right this felt.
Like maybe the land wasn’t the only thing growing roots.