Chapter 24
twenty-four
After leaving the main house, they walked to the forge in silence, shoulders brushing occasionally. The night air bit at her exposed skin, but she barely felt it. All she could think about was Landry somewhere out there, getting closer with every passing hour.
Or maybe he was already here?
God, her head hurt.
Light spilled from the forge windows, and a shadow moved inside as they approached. Anson tensed and pushed her behind him, but then relaxed when Lila stepped into view through the open door, a pet carrier in her hands.
“Hey.” Lila smiled, though her eyes remained serious. “I figured I’d get a head start gathering them up. Hope that’s okay.”
“Thank you,” Anson said, stepping forward to help her with the carrier. Inside, Princess Jellybean mewed softly, the sound muffled by the plastic walls.
Maggie followed them into the forge’s warmth, her skin prickling at the transition from cold to heat. The scent of metal and coal wrapped around her, familiar now. Safe. Though after seeing those photographs, nowhere felt truly safe anymore.
Bramble stood near the kitten’s home, his shaggy head lowered as he watched them. His tail hung still instead of wagging, and his ears were pinned back.
“Bramble’s being a total mother hen,” Lila said, glancing at the anxious dog. “He won’t leave the kittens alone.”
“He knows something’s happening,” Maggie murmured, crossing to the kitten house.
Bramble moved to intercept her, pressing his massive body against her legs. He whined—a low, worried sound that rumbled in his chest.
“It’s okay, buddy.” She scratched behind his ears, hoping to ease his anxiety. “We’re just keeping them safe. Like you would.”
The wolfhound seemed unconvinced, tracking Lila’s movements with amber eyes as she prepared another carrier for the kittens.
Maggie scooped up Ember, and her throat tightened at the tiny, plaintive mew. “It’s just for a night or two, sweet girl.” She pressed a kiss between the kitten’s ears, then repeated the gesture with Spark and Smoke. “You’re going to stay with Dr. Lila, and she’ll take good care of you.”
Her voice wavered. How ridiculous to get emotional over a temporary separation. But these tiny creatures had become a constant in the middle of her chaos. Caring for them alongside Anson had been the brightest part of her days.
She gently tucked the kittens into a second carrier, making sure they had the wool blanket from their home.
Bramble shoved his nose against the carrier door, snuffling loudly. When she tried to cinch it closed, he pushed harder, nearly knocking it over.
“Bramble, back.” Anson’s command was firm but not harsh.
The wolfhound ignored him. He pawed at the carrier, claws clicking against the plastic.
“They’re coming back,” Anson said, gripping Bramble’s collar and pulling him away from the carrier. “Easy, bud.”
Bramble planted his feet and resisted, leaning toward the kittens. Another whine escaped him, higher-pitched this time. More distressed.
And when Lila picked up the kittens’ carrier, Bramble’s whine turned into a sharp bark.
Maggie’s chest constricted. She’d never seen him like this. “He thinks we’re taking them away permanently.”
The kittens’ mews echoed from inside the plastic.
Bramble lunged forward, dragging Anson a step before he braced himself. The dog barked again, then dropped his head and pushed his nose against Lila’s hand, trying to get to the carriers.
“Bramble, no.” Anson hauled him back and wrapped an arm around the wolfhound’s chest. “I know. I know you don’t understand.”
Bramble’s ears stayed flat. He made that distressed whine again, and this time it cracked something inside Maggie’s chest.
“This is awful. Maybe they should stay.”
Lila hesitated. “Honestly, I’m not comfortable with that. “Princess is still recovering, and with everything going on...” She trailed off, her eyes flicking toward Anson for support.
“Safer with you,” Anson agreed and stroked Bramble’s neck with gentle reassurance. “Just for now.”
Maggie knelt beside Bramble and took his massive head between her hands. “I promise they’ll be back soon. We just need to make sure everyone’s safe tonight.”
The wolfhound’s eyes fixed on hers, and she swore he understood every word. His resistance softened, but the anxiety remained in the rigid line of his spine, the slight tremor running through his lean body.
“They’ll be back before you know it,” Lila promised, picking up both carriers. “And I’ll text updates.”
“Thank you,” Maggie said, giving Bramble one last reassuring pat before standing.
Lila nodded and headed for the door, carriers in hand. “Lock up tight tonight,” she called over her shoulder, her voice almost lost in the evening wind.
The forge felt emptier immediately—the absence of tiny mews and Princess’s watchful presence creating a hollow space that even the crackling fire couldn’t fill. Bramble stood at the window, tracking Lila’s path across the yard until she disappeared from view.
“Time to go,” Anson said quietly.
Back at her cabin, Maggie stood just inside the doorway with Bramble and watched Anson check all the locks, then the windows, then the bathroom.
In the warm yellow light, his face looked carved from stone—jaw set, eyes constantly moving between the windows and the door.
She touched his arm and felt the muscles bunch beneath her fingers.
“Are you okay?”
He stilled, his gaze finally landing on her face. She watched him catalog every fear she was trying to hide, every ounce of guilt she felt for bringing this danger to the ranch. His eyes stripped away her defenses like they were nothing but cobwebs.
“I should be asking you that.”
“But I asked you first.”
“No,” he admitted, the word rough. “Won’t be okay until Landry’s dealt with.”
The tension vibrating through his body was almost palpable. She could feel it radiating from him in waves—this fierce protectiveness that seemed to fill every corner of the small cabin.
“And how exactly do you plan to ‘deal with’ him?” she asked carefully.
Anson’s eyes darkened. “However I need to.”
A chill ran through her that had nothing to do with the Montana night. She’d seen that look before—in prison documentaries, in war footage. The flat, deadly calm of a man who’d calculated exactly how far he was willing to go.
“Anson, I can’t let you—”
“Not your choice.” He turned away, resuming his perimeter check, testing the window locks again. “Not asking permission.”
“But I’m asking you not to throw away everything you’ve built here.” She caught his wrist, forcing him to stop. “
“Please.” She slid her hand down to his, lacing her fingers through his scarred ones. “I’m not worth going back to prison for.”
He stared at their joined hands for a long moment, then slowly raised his eyes to hers. “You are.” His free hand came up to cup her cheek for a moment before he dropped it and turned away. “Get some sleep, Maggie. I’ll make sure you’re safe.”
She wasn’t going to get through to him. At least not tonight, when he was all but a raw nerve. She saw it in his eyes, so she let it drop for now and took her pajamas into the bathroom to change.
She crawled under the covers and watched Anson through half-closed eyes. He moved like a caged predator, checking locks he’d already verified, peering through blinds at shadows that hadn’t changed in the last five minutes. The cabin wasn’t large, and his constant movement made it feel even smaller.
“You need sleep too,” she said finally.
He glanced at her but didn’t pause in his patrol. “I’m fine.”
“You’re not.” She pushed back the covers and padded across the floor to where he stood sentinel by the front window.
“Come to bed.” She slid her arms around his waist from behind and pressed her cheek against his back. “Standing guard all night won’t help anything, and you’re making Bramble anxious.”
They both looked down at the dog
The wolfhound was watching them from his post by the door, amber eyes tracking their every move, body rigid with the same protective tension that radiated from Anson.
“He’s fine,” Anson muttered, though his hand dropped to stroke the dog’s head when Bramble shifted closer.
“No, he’s exhausted. Like you.” She tugged gently at his waist. “Please. Just lie down for a little while.”
For a moment, she thought he might refuse. Then he nodded and let her lead him to the bed. Bramble watched them go, then repositioned himself at the foot of the bed, still watching the door, never abandoning his guard post.
Anson didn’t bother removing his clothes. He just toed off his boots and stretched out beside her. When she curled against him, his body curved around hers like a shield between her and the world.
“Sleep,” he whispered against her hair. “I’m here.”
But she didn’t sleep. She just lay there, wide-awake, exhausted but wired, wondering how Landry had managed to be in two places at once.