Chapter 17
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Annie
Larsen’s General Store smells like wood polish, old paper, and honey.
The bell above the door rings when I step inside, all cheerful, and immediately three heads turn.
Of course they do.
Small town rule number one: entrances are events.
I give a casual half wave like I’m not already calculating how long I need to be here and what I can grab without getting pulled into a full conversation about my life choices, my job, or my hair.
Spoiler: not long.
I’ve got a list in my head.
Coffee beans, a notebook, batteries, and something resembling real food that doesn’t come out of Ironwood’s kitchen, because if I have one more meal under Duke’s watchful eyes I might actually combust from the combination of attention and whatever he does to pancakes that should probably be illegal.
Also…
My brain stutters.
Also distance—from the ranch, the house, from three men who seem determined to exist in every possible corner of my thoughts.
I push that firmly aside and head for the shelves.
“Annie!”
I look up to see Dakota Fletcher waving at me from near the back of the store, her smile bright and genuine in a way that still surprises me.
Because she doesn’t have to be nice to me. Most people in Colter Creek seem more interested in figuring me out than actually knowing me.
And yet…
“Hey,” I say, heading over.
She pulls me into a quick hug before I can decide if I’m the kind of person who does that now.
Apparently, I am.
“How are you? It’s been a while since the last potluck.”
“I know.” I chuckle. “And yet I still feel brand new.”
She laughs, then steps back, and that’s when I notice it.
The subtle curve beneath her sweater. The way her hand rests absently over her stomach like it already belongs there.
I blink.
“Oh!” She giggles as she sees my eyes. “Yep, I guess it’s starting to become obvious, huh? News doesn’t stay secret for too long in this town. But I’m so excited—I’m pregnant!”
“Wow, Dakota, that’s wild. So excited for you.”
I love the way her eyes light up, which causes the next question to stifle in my mouth. I don’t ask who the father is. If it’s Clint, Sawyer, or Reid.
I mean, it doesn’t matter, does it? They’re all a family, no matter what.
Just because I haven’t ever seen anything like it before doesn’t mean it isn’t real.
“I’m still wrapping my head around it a little,” she admits. “One minute I’m just trying to get through the day, and the next…” she gestures vaguely at herself, “this.”
“Wow, you’re amazing.”
She nudges my shoulder lightly. “You’re settling in okay? How is Ironwood treating you?”
“Define ‘okay.’”
She smiles knowingly. “That kind of okay.”
I huff out a laugh. “It’s… a lot.”
“Yeah, the Harlan brothers must be a lot to work for. But I mean, it’s only temporary, right?”
I nod. “All my work is.”
She cocks her head curiously to one side. “Is that hard? Never quite settling anywhere? Or is it more of an adventure?”
I part my lips, about to give the diplomatic answer I always do about finding life much easier when I don’t have the pressure of full time anywhere, when the shrill sound of my phone ringing interrupts us.
I glance at the screen. “Oh, it’s my brother. I’d better get that.”
Dakota smiles and nods. “Yeah, no problem. I’ll see you around anyway.”
I step outside, still smiling to myself as I hit the answer button. “Hey, Evan, I…”
“Annie.”
His voice is wrong.
Too tight. Too fast. Like he’s holding back and failing.
My grip on the phone tightens as ice-cold panic grabs hold of me. I hate it when he gets like this. “What happened?”
“I… I need help.”
Of course you do.
The thought’s immediate, automatic, followed just as quickly by the guilt that always comes with it.
“Okay,” I say. “Slow down. What’s going on?”
There’s a shaky exhale on the other end. “I messed up.”
My stomach knots. “How bad?”
Silence. “Bad.”
I close my eyes, pressing my fingers against my forehead. “Evan.”
“I didn’t mean for it to… I thought I had it under control, I thought I could fix it before it got…” He cracks. “I need money, Annie.”
Yep. I thought as much.
“How much?” I ask, even though part of me doesn’t want to know.
Another pause.
Then he says the number, and the world tilts.
“Evan,” I whisper. “That’s not… that’s not a small amount.”
“I know.”
“Do you have any idea what you’re asking?”
“I know,” he says again, more desperate this time. “I know, I just… I don’t have anyone else, Annie. Please.”
My chest tightens, because that’s the worst part. He doesn’t have anyone else. Not really.
Our parents are… not options. Not in any way that matters. Dad isn’t someone me or my brother can ever get hold of, and Mom doesn’t want to know because neither of us fit into the image she wants for us.
And Evan, sweet, reckless, endlessly trying Evan, has a talent for finding trouble and then trying to fix it himself until it spirals out of control.
Which is exactly what this feels like.
“What happened?” I ask again.
“It doesn’t matter,” he says quickly. “I just need to fix it before it gets worse.”
“That means it does matter.”
“Annie—”
“What did you do?”
Silence stretches between us. Then, barely audible, “I owe someone.”
Ice slides through my veins. “What kind of someone?”
Another pause.
“Evan,” I snap. “Who?”
“It’s not… it’s not like that—”
“Who?”
His breath hitches. “Just… someone I shouldn’t have gotten involved with.”
That’s not reassuring at all.
I press my hand against the side of the building, grounding myself against the rough wood. “How much time do you have?”
“Not long.”
Of course not.
“Evan, listen to me,” I say, forcing each word to come out clear. “You cannot keep doing this. You can’t just—”
“I know,” he cuts in, clearly breaking. “I know, Annie, I’m sorry, I just… I didn’t know who else to call.”
And there it is. The hook, the thing that always gets me, because no matter how many times he screws up, no matter how many times I tell myself I’m done being the safety net, he’s still my little brother.
He’s still the kid who used to climb into my bed after nightmares and pretend he wasn’t scared, still the one person who calls me like I’m the answer, and I don’t know how to not be that for him.
My eyes sting.
I blink hard.
“Okay,” I say finally even though the word feels like a surrender. “I’ll help. I’ll send you the money today.”
Relief floods his voice so fast it makes my chest ache. “Thank you. Thank you, I… I’ll pay you back, I swear—”
“You always say that.”
“I mean it this time.”
“You always mean it.”
He goes silent. Guilt, probably.
“I’ll figure something out,” I say, already running through numbers in my head. Savings. Contracts.
What I can move, what I can’t. What this will cost me long term.
It’s too much, I know that, but I have to do it anyway.
“Okay,” he says, softer now. “Okay.”
“Text me the details,” I add. “Everything. No half-truths.”
“I will.”
I sigh heavily. “Evan.”
“Yeah?”
“Don’t make me regret this.”
A beat. “I won’t.”
We both know that’s not a promise he can guarantee.
I hang up before I can think about that too hard.
I just stand there, phone still in my hand, heart racing, breath uneven. The world feels jagged around the edges, too loud, too real.
I’ve worked too hard for this, for my own little nest egg so I can keep living my life the way I want to.
And now…
Now I’m about to tear a chunk out of it again.
Because he asked, and I can’t say no. Because I don’t know how to let him fall, even if catching him might drag me down with him.
Shit.