Chapter 16 #2
But he wasn’t trying to stop her. He wasn’t telling her not to go, not to teach, not to do this thing that mattered to her. He was trying to find a way to make it work safely.
“When are you going?” he asked.
“This afternoon. Nessie and Naomi will meet me there.”
He nodded. “I’ll ask Boone to take you.”
“Why not you?”
His gaze dropped back to the kitten. “No. Boone’s bigger than me. Scarier. Better deterrent, and he notices things others don’t.”
Of course it couldn’t be him. Anson rarely left the ranch—she knew that now, though she didn’t understand why. Yet he was still offering solutions, making calls, working out logistics. For her.
“Okay,” she agreed softly. “I won’t go alone.”
The tension visibly drained from his shoulders. He returned Smoke to the nest box, where the kitten immediately curled against Spark, both sleepy and milk drunk.
Maggie set Ember beside her brothers, then crossed to where Anson stood. Before she could second-guess herself, she reached up and cupped his face between her palms.
“Thank you for understanding why this matters.”
He went still beneath her touch, then slowly leaned into it, eyes closing briefly. “I get it. You need to build things. Fix things.” His voice was rough with emotion. “It’s who you are.”
Her heart squeezed. He did understand. Had always understood, from those first letters years ago.
This was the man who saw her, really saw her, beneath the television personality and careful public image.
Maybe that was why she’d been so careful not to mention the show to him in her letters.
She hadn’t wanted to be defined by her celebrity. She’d wanted him to see her—just her.
“I’m not trying to be reckless,” she said softly, thumbs brushing over his bearded cheeks. “I just... I need a purpose beyond hiding. The women at Haven House are rebuilding their lives from the ground up, and I know something about that.”
He reached out a tentative hand and brushed a strand of hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear. “Yeah. You do.”
The awkwardness from their kiss hadn’t disappeared, but something had shifted between them. A bridge forming, tentative but real.
“I’ll talk to Boone now,” he said, stepping back just enough to break the contact, though his eyes lingered on her face. “Set things up.”
“Thank you.” She dropped her hands, already missing the warmth of him.
Bramble pushed between them, breaking the moment with typical canine timing. He nudged Anson’s hand with his nose, then padded to the door with clear intent.
“Someone needs out,” Anson said, the corner of his mouth lifting.
“I’ll let him out,” Maggie said, following Bramble to the door. The cool morning air rushed in as she opened it, a stark contrast to the forge’s warmth.
Bramble bounded out, immediately veering toward a cluster of trees at the edge of the yard. She watched him go, grateful for the momentary reprieve. Being near Anson was like standing too close to a fire—comforting and dangerous all at once.
“You should eat,” Anson said from behind her. “Before you go to town.”
She turned to find him watching her, his expression unreadable. “I will. I need to shower first, though.”
“Jo makes pancakes on Tuesdays. Walker’s recipe. Worth trying.”
The invitation, casual as it was, made her smile. “Is that where you’ll be?”
He hesitated, then shook his head. “Need to stay here with Princess. Make sure she’s comfortable.”
Of course. Always an excuse to keep his distance, even as he tried to close it.
“Rain check, then,” she said, trying to keep disappointment from her voice. “I’ll see you when I get back from Haven House.”
Anson nodded, already turning back to Princess’s enclosure. “Be careful.”
Two simple words, but she heard all the worry beneath them. The fear he couldn’t quite voice. She wanted to go to him, to press herself against his broad back, to promise him she’d always come back. Instead, she stepped outside and closed the door behind her.
The walk to her cabin gave her time to think. Was she being reckless? Maybe. But staying locked away in fear wasn’t living. She’d done that for too long already.
By the time she’d showered and changed, the morning had warmed slightly. She found Boone waiting by his truck, arms crossed over his massive chest, his navy blue eyes shadowed under the brim of his Stetson. He tipped his hat as she approached.
“Mornin’. Anson said you need a ride to Haven House.”
“Yes. Thank you for doing this.”
Boone opened the passenger door for her. “No problem.”
His truck was immaculate inside, not a speck of dust on the dashboard. He climbed in beside her, his large frame making the cab feel suddenly smaller.
“Did Anson explain why I need a babysitter?” she asked as they pulled out of the ranch.
“Ma’am, I don’t babysit.” Boone’s eyes remained fixed on the road, but a smile twitched at the corner of his mouth. “He said you have a stalker. Ex-boyfriend who doesn’t understand boundaries.”
“Ex-co-host. Our personal relationship was so short and ill-advised, I don’t count it. But, yes, he’s been following me for years. Since I refused to take him back, he’s been... escalating.”
Boone nodded, his face giving nothing away. “Anson mentioned the cat. You think that was him?”
“I don’t know,” she admitted, watching the trees flash by outside the window. “It seems crazy that he’d follow me all the way to Montana just to hurt a cat. But I can’t shake the feeling... I mean, Princess disappeared around the same time I showed up here.”
“Nothing crazy about obsession,” Boone said quietly. “Makes people do things that don’t make sense to anyone else.”
Something in his tone made her glance over. His knuckles had whitened on the steering wheel, jaw tight beneath his beard. This wasn’t just professional concern.
“You sound like you’re speaking from experience.”
He was quiet for so long she thought he wouldn’t answer.
Then, “My mother. She’s… not well and lives in a long-term care psychiatric facility.
She’s not usually violent, but when she gets an idea in her head…
” He trailed off and adjusted his grip on the steering wheel, knuckles flexing.
“Let’s just say I understand what it’s like when someone who should love you becomes a threat instead. ”
Maggie nodded, her throat tight. The words hit close to home. Landry had seemed so charming at first, so supportive. She’d believed he cared about her, wanted to help her career. By the time she realized his “support” was just another form of control, she was already trapped in his web.
“How did you handle it?”
Boone sighed, the sound heavy with years of weight. “Truth be told, I didn’t for a long time. I ran from it, hid from it, but it didn’t make the problem any less of a problem. Then I found people worth trusting—Walker, Jo—and they helped.” He glanced at her briefly. “Anson’s worth trusting.”
She shifted her gaze to the window. “I know he is.”
The problem was that he didn’t trust himself.
But she didn’t say that out loud.