19. Evie
Evie
Gabriel is out in the barn checking on the rescue mare when I find his phone waiting on the kitchen counter.
I mentioned wanting to call my mom over breakfast. He left his phone for me before heading outside because mine is still with Ethan.
I stare at it for a long moment.
It’s been... months. Not because anything happened. Because that’s how we are.
Mom follows horses instead of calendars.
One month she’s helping gentle mustangs in Nevada.
The next she’s rebuilding the trust of an abused gelding at a rescue in Colorado, or working with a ranch horse in Wyoming that everyone else has written off.
If there’s a frightened horse everyone else has given up on, sooner or later someone calls Marlowe Gale.
She stays until the horse doesn’t need her anymore. Then she moves on.
But somehow, we always find each other again.
I scroll to the contact Gabriel added for me earlier.
I press call. It rings once. Twice. Three times.
By the fourth, I’m starting to think she’s somewhere without reception again.
Then—
“Hello? Who’s this? I almost didn’t answer,” she says cheerfully. “Didn’t recognize the number. I figured it was either a telemarketer or someone trying to sell me an extended warranty on a truck I don’t own.”
Her voice hasn’t changed. Incense and sunshine and the open road.
A laugh catches in my throat. “Hi, Mom.”
I can hear the wind where she is. Birds chirping. Somewhere outdoors.
“Evie?” The brightness disappears, replaced by instant concern. “Baby? Are you okay?”
“I am.”
A pause. “You sure?”
I smile. “You always did hear the truth before I said it.”
“I grew you. I’ve had practice.”
The lump in my throat loosens. “I’ve missed you.”
“Oh, sweetheart, I've missed you too.” She laughs softly. “I was actually thinking about you this morning.”
“Were you?”
“I found a turquoise ring at a little trading post outside Taos. I almost bought it.”
I glance automatically at the one she gave me on my finger. “You would’ve hated it.”
“I absolutely would’ve.”
We both laugh.
It feels… easy. Like slipping into an old sweater.
“So,” Mom says. “I know that voice.”
“What voice?”
“The one where you’re trying very hard to sound like you called just to say hello.”
I sigh. “Am I that obvious?”
“You’ve been obvious since you were six.” Another gentle silence. “What happened, Evie?”
I look out of the kitchen window. Gabriel is across the yard, one hand resting on the rescue mare’s neck while she sniffs cautiously at his sleeve.
The sight steadies me.
“A lot.”
Mom waits. She always has.
When I was little and came home crying, she’d wait. She said people usually found the truth themselves if nobody rushed them.
I take a slow breath. “Do you remember that rodeo circuit I told you about? The one in Montana?”
“I remember.”
“I met someone. Gabriel.”
“Oh. I wasn’t expecting that.”
“Neither was I.”
“So…” I can hear the grin in her voice. “Is he cute?”
I huff a laugh. “Yeah.”
“Just yeah?”
“Mom…”
“Baby, I raised you. If you’ve reduced a man to one syllable, I’m assuming he’s spectacular.”
I laugh properly this time. “He is.”
“What happened?”
I spin the ring on my finger. “I asked him to sleep with me.”
Mom bursts out laughing. “Oh, honey.”
“What?”
“I was expecting a lot of things.” Another laugh. “That wasn’t one of them.”
“It made sense at the time.”
“I’m sure it did.”
I shake my head, smiling. “It was supposed to be one night.”
“And?”
“And it wasn’t.” I swallow hard. “I’m pregnant. Twenty-two weeks.”
I hear her breath catch, followed by a soft sniff. “Oh, sweetheart.” Another sniff. “I'm going to be a grandma?” Her voice wobbles with delight.
“You are.”
“Are you happy?” she asks softly. “Is everything okay with the baby?”
“I am happy.” I wipe my eyes. “And our little girl is fine.”
She squeals. “A granddaughter? Oh, that’s wonderful!” A short pause. “Does your father know?”
“No.” I keep my voice even. “And I’d like it to stay that way.”
“It will.” No hesitation. “I haven’t spoken to that man in over twenty years, baby. I don’t intend to start now. But… you know him. He’s bound to find out eventually.”
“Maybe. But it won’t be from me.”
“The only good thing your father ever gave me,” Mom’s voice softens, “was you. If I had to live every minute of that marriage again just to get you, I’d do it without a second thought.”
“Stop, my hormones are already on overdrive.”
Mom chuckles. “Yep. Welcome to pregnancy, honey. It’s the scariest, craziest, most wonderful ride of your life.”
“Mom, I think—I think I love him. Gabriel.” I pause. “But how do you know? How do you know if it’s really love?”
“Oh, baby, you just told me you drove from Nevada to Montana to find a man whose last name you didn’t know. You’ve been carrying his child for almost five months without telling a soul because you needed to be sure he was worth trusting.” A pause. “You already know.”
I open my mouth. Close it.
“Besides,” Mom says softly, “I can hear it in your voice. I’ve never heard you sound like this before.”
“Like what?”
“Peaceful.”
The word settles somewhere deep inside me.
Peaceful.
“I think,” I whisper, “I’ve finally found home.”
“I think you have too, baby. Tell Gabriel congratulations from me.”
“I will.”
“And tell him he’d better look after my girl.”
I smile. “He already does.”
“I love you, Evie. I promise I’ll come and see you soon.”
“I love you too, Mom.”
I sit there for a long moment after hanging up, debating whether to call her back and tell her the rest. About my father. About the poisoned well and the fire and the man who’s spent years trying to destroy the family I’ve only just found.
But what will it change? She’s hundreds of miles away. There’s nothing she can do except worry.
So I let her keep this. The joy. The excitement. The knowledge that her daughter is loved.
When all of this is over…
I’ll tell her the rest.
The morning is cool enough that I pull my cardigan tighter around myself as I sit on the porch. Gabriel’s still in the east pasture with the mare. I can just make them out beyond the fence.
He isn’t trying to catch her. He’s standing a few yards away, hands loose at his sides, talking to her in that quiet voice of his that barely carries this far. Every so often she flicks an ear toward him.
Progress. Not dramatic, but another inch of trust.
A truck rumbles up the driveway. I look up as a black pickup pulls alongside Daniel’s. Henry climbs out before the engine has fully died, shutting the door with a solid thump. One glance toward the house, another toward the pasture. Always assessing.
He spots Gabriel and lifts a hand. Gabriel nods in return.
My stomach tightens. It’s one thing knowing everyone’s worried. It’s another to watch people rearrange their lives because of you.
Henry looks up and spots me on the porch. “Morning, Evie.”
“Morning.”
He studies my face for a second, gray eyes missing very little. “You holding up?”
“Me? Yeah, I’m made of stern stuff.”
“That you are.” He shifts his weight, glancing toward the house. “We’re having a bit of a planning session this morning. Figure out how best to stay ahead of your father.”
The words land heavily in my chest. “You really don’t have to do all this for me.”
Henry’s gaze settles on me. “That’s where you're wrong.” He nods toward the ranch behind him. “Family doesn’t wait until someone’s hurt before they start looking after each other.”
Before I can think of a reply, Henry tips his hat. “We’ll sort it. See you inside when you’re ready.”
Then he opens the back door as though he’s been walking through it his entire life—which, I suppose, he has—and disappears inside.
A few minutes later, Gabriel leaves the mare where she is. He latches the gate behind him, dusts his hands on his jeans, and walks toward the house. Toward me.
His eyes find mine immediately. One blue. One green. Always looking for me now.
“You okay?” he asks quietly as he reaches the porch.
I nod, even though I’m not entirely convinced.
He doesn’t look convinced either. He climbs the steps anyway and slips his hand into mine. His thumb brushes slowly across my knuckles. “Daniel’s getting everything set up in Ethan’s study. You don't have to sit in if you don’t want to.”
I meet his eyes. “I’m good. I need to be included in this.”
Pride flickers across his face. “You ready?”
I lace my fingers through his and summon a smile. “Let’s do this.”
He smiles softly. “There’s my Lightning.”
He turns toward the back door, then pauses. His smile disappears. Every muscle in his body goes still.
I follow his gaze.
Three black SUVs roll through the entrance in perfect formation.
Expensive.
Immaculate.
The lead vehicle doesn’t hesitate. It drives straight toward the house like it’s expected.
A cold certainty moves through me, bone-deep.
“No,” I whisper.
Because I already know. I know those cars. I know that confidence. I know the man who always arrives believing the world belongs to him.
Gabriel’s grip tightens around my hand. “Daniel!”
His voice cracks across the yard. The back door opens almost immediately.
Daniel steps out first. “What—”
He follows Gabriel’s gaze. His expression hardens. Henry appears behind him. Then Ethan. Jacob, summoned by Gabriel’s shout, is last, his blue eyes narrowed in his weathered face. Mine widen as I spot the shotgun in his right hand.
The lead SUV stops outside the house. The second pulls in behind it. Then the third.
Nobody gets out for several long seconds. As though they’re waiting. Making sure everyone is watching.
Then the driver’s door of the middle SUV opens. A polished Oxford shoe appears first. Then the man himself. Perfectly tailored charcoal suit. Silver hair untouched by the wind. Not a wrinkle. Not a speck of dust.
He straightens his cuffs before lifting his gaze to the house. He doesn’t look around. Doesn’t need to. He already believes he owns everything in front of him.
My mouth goes dry.
Gabriel shifts half a step closer until our shoulders touch.
My father smiles. “Hello, Evangeline.”