20. Evie
Evie
My father looks straight at me, ignoring everyone else.
“Evangeline,” he says warmly, like we’re a normal father and daughter. “There you are. You’ve been remarkably difficult to reach. Blocking my number was rather childish, don’t you think?”
My voice comes out cold and sharp. “Childish would be showing up uninvited with a small army to intimidate the people I love. What do you want, Alexander?”
His eyebrows lift slightly as I use his given name, but the smile stays fixed. “Straight to business. I see your new… friends have rubbed off on you.”
“They’re family,” I snap. “Something you wouldn’t understand.”
He finally glances at the others, his eyes lingering on the shotgun Jacob’s holding and my hand clasped tightly in Gabriel’s. His smile thins.
“Alexander Voss. I appreciate you taking the time to speak with me,” he says smoothly, as though introductions are necessary. “I’d like to make this easy for everyone. I’m prepared to offer three times the market value for Stoneridge. Cash. No financing. You could walk away wealthy men.”
Jacob laughs harshly. “Not interested.”
Daniel folds his arms. “The answer is no. And it’ll stay no, no matter how many times you ask.”
Alexander doesn’t even blink. “Everything has a price, gentlemen.”
“Not this ranch,” Jacob says. “Not this family.”
Alexander turns back to me, switching to that fake paternal tone that used to make me shrink. “Evangeline, surely you can talk some sense into them. This doesn’t have to be difficult. Come home. Let me take care of you.”
Something inside me snaps.
I step forward, pulling strength from Gabriel’s solid presence beside me. “You don’t get to call me yours. You don’t get to pretend you care. The only reason you’re here is because you can’t stand losing. Not the land. Not control. Certainly not me.”
His mask slips. His eyes narrow. “You’ve grown bold.”
“No,” I say, voice steady and strong. “I’ve grown free.
I used to think if I was quiet enough, good enough, useful enough, you might actually love me.
But you don’t know how to love anything that isn’t useful to you.
So hear me clearly: I’m not for sale. And this family sure as hell isn’t for sale. ”
The yard falls silent.
Alexander studies me for a long moment, reassessing. Then he turns his attention to Jacob. “I generally get my own way, Mr. Sutton. Eventually.”
“You generally poison people’s water too?” Jacob growls.
Alexander’s eyes flicker, as if he wasn’t expecting that. “I’m not here to discuss unfounded allegations.”
“Unfounded allegations?” I demand in disbelief. “What is wrong with you? You burned a barn with an innocent woman inside. You forged Gabriel’s signature. God only knows what else you’ve done! This stops. Now. Before anyone else gets hurt or worse.”
My father ignores my outburst. He smooths his cuff with that calm, calculated motion I remember from childhood. “It appears today’s conversation has reached its natural conclusion.”
He turns toward the waiting SUV, then pauses. He looks back at me. The smile returns, cold and razor-sharp.
“So good to see you’re well, Evangeline.” His eyes drop meaningfully to my stomach, then rise slowly to my face. “Do take good care of my granddaughter.”
The world tilts.
He knows.
My blood goes cold.
Beside me, Gabriel goes rigid, then lunges forward with a snarl of pure rage. “You stay the fuck away from them!”
“Gabe!” Daniel and Ethan grab him, holding him back.
I press my hand hard against Gabriel’s back, trying to ground him even as my own heart detonates. “Gabriel,” I say sharply. “He’s baiting you. Don’t give him the satisfaction.”
Alexander watches the scene like a scientist observing an experiment. “Temper, Mr. Sutton. Not very becoming.”
Gabriel strains against the hands holding him, but my touch seems to reach him. He stops fighting, though every muscle is still coiled tight.
Alexander gives a small, satisfied nod. “I’ll be in touch.”
He slides into the SUV. The convoy pulls away in a cloud of dust.
I don’t move. I can’t. My hand stays pressed to Gabriel’s back as the last vehicle disappears over the rise.
He turns and pulls me into his arms, holding me like I might vanish. I’m shaking, struggling not to fall apart.
Because my father knows about the baby.
Gabriel pulls back to look at me. “Evie?”
I open my mouth. Nothing comes out. Because suddenly I can’t feel my fingers. Or my feet. Or anything except the crushing weight in my chest.
The ranch carries on around me. Phones ring. Boots thud across the porch. Voices overlap. Plans are made. Security tightened. Everyone moving.
My knees buckle.
Gabriel catches me before I even realize I’m falling. “Whoa. I’ve got you.”
He scoops me into his arms and carries me into the house, one hand cradling the back of my head as though shielding me from the whole world.
When we reach his room, he eases me down onto the edge of the bed and crouches in front of me. His thumbs brush lightly over my knees.
I lift my eyes to his. “I’ve turned your lives upside down.”
He reaches up and cups my face. “No.”
One word with so much certainty in it that I almost believe him.
Almost.
He brushes his thumb beneath my eye. “You didn’t bring this. It was already here.”
I want to tell him he doesn’t understand. That he doesn’t know my father. That he doesn’t know what happens to people who stand between him and what he wants.
But I’m so tired. So impossibly tired. My eyes droop.
Gabriel stands, tugs me to my feet, and quickly strips me to my underwear, pausing to run a gentle hand over our child. Then he pulls back the duvet and helps me into bed. “Sleep.”
“What about—”
“The ranch will still be here when you wake up.”
“And my father?”
His jaw tightens. “We’ll deal with him.”
We.
The word wraps itself around my heart.
He leans down and presses a kiss to my forehead. “I’m just downstairs if you need me.”
I nod.
He waits until my eyes close before quietly letting himself out.
But I don’t sleep.
I breathe in the scent of cedar, clean cotton, and Gabriel. His scent clings to the pillow beneath my cheek, warm and familiar. For one perfect heartbeat, I let myself imagine this is what home feels like. Safe. Wanted. Loved.
A lump rises painfully in my throat. Because it can’t last.
My father was already coming for these ranches before I arrived. He poisoned their water. Burned their barn. Forged Gabriel’s name. He already knew exactly where they lived and what they stood to lose.
I didn’t bring him here.
But I’ve given him something new to use against them.
They could lose this ranch. Everything they’ve spent years building. Another family torn apart. They were already fighting a man with more money, power, and reach than any of them fully understood.
And now my father knows I’m here. He knows I’m with Gabriel. He knows about our daughter. The thought turns my blood cold.
Before today, the ranches were an obstacle between him and something he wanted. Now they’re sheltering the daughter who defied him and the granddaughter he already speaks about as though she belongs to him.
He knows where I am. He knows whose house, whose name, whose table. I haven’t painted him a map. He already had one. I’ve marked the people who matter most.
And now he knows about the baby. My father doesn’t see a grandchild; my father has never once looked at a person as anything but leverage. And for the first time, the fear isn’t for me. It's for the small, innocent life growing inside me.
I roll carefully onto my back and rest both hands over the gentle curve of my stomach. Our daughter shifts beneath my palms. A tiny flutter. A reminder that I’m not making this decision for myself anymore.
“Hey, sweetheart.” My thumb strokes absent circles over my bump. “I know today was scary, but I’m going to protect you. I’ll always protect you.”
The promise steadies something inside me, even as it breaks my own heart.
If I stay, my father has one more way to hurt Gabriel. One more pressure point to use against the Suttons. One more reason to turn an already vicious fight into something personal.
The decision arrives so quietly that I mistake it for peace.
My breathing steadies, but the ache in my chest intensifies.
Because I know what I have to do.
I don't know how long I sleep.
When I wake again, the room is dark. For one confused second, I don't know why.
Then I hear the slow, steady rhythm of someone breathing beside me.
I turn my head.
Gabriel.
He’s asleep on his side facing me, one arm draped possessively across my waist, his hand resting just beneath the curve of my stomach as though even asleep, he’s protecting us both.
My chest aches. He didn’t wake me. He simply slipped into bed beside me, as though he couldn’t bear to leave me alone tonight.
The bedside clock glows just after two in the morning. Outside, the ranch lies wrapped in silence.
I study him for a long moment, memorizing him. His dark hair is tousled from sleep. His lashes rest against his cheeks. His face is relaxed in sleep, making him look younger.
A fresh sting burns behind my eyes. “I’m sorry,” I whisper.
He doesn’t hear me. His fingers tighten slightly against my waist. Even asleep, he’s holding on.
Carefully, I slide my hand beneath his wrist and lift. I pause as he murmurs something I can’t make out and shifts closer.
I freeze.
After a few seconds, his breathing deepens again. I ease his arm onto the mattress beside me. He doesn’t wake.
I sit up slowly, keeping every movement deliberate. The mattress barely moves. Gabriel sleeps on as I slip from the bed.
My jeans are draped over the chair where he must have left them after helping me into bed. My shirt hangs beside them. Everything folded. Everything cared for. Like he couldn’t stop looking after me, even while I slept.
I blink hard. If I let myself think about him, I won’t be able to do this.
I dress silently and slip quietly into the hallway. The house is silent. Most of the lights downstairs have been switched off. Only the glow above the stove spills into the hallway, leaving the rest of the ranch wrapped in shadows.
I pause outside the spare room. The door creaks softly as I ease it open. Moonlight spills across the quilt.
I kneel beside the bed and reach underneath. My fingers close around the handle almost immediately. I don’t even have to search. The bag slides free with hardly a sound. Still zipped. I never unpacked. Not really. A toothbrush in the bathroom. A few clothes hanging in the wardrobe.
But the bag stayed exactly where I shoved it that first night. Ready. Waiting. As though some part of me never believed I’d be allowed to stay.
Guilt washes over me. Yesterday, they told me I was family, even after they learned who my father was. And I was quietly keeping one foot out the door.
I straighten, take one last look around the room, then quietly close the door behind me.
The keys feel impossibly loud in my hand as I slip them into my pocket.
The cool night air catches my face as I step out onto the porch.
“You’re leaving.”
I startle and whip my head around.
Maggie sits in one of the rocking chairs, wrapped in her old knitted cardigan, apron still on, a mug cradled between both hands. Moonlight catches the silver in her hair as she watches me over the rim of her cup. She doesn’t look surprised. She doesn’t even look disappointed. Just... sad.
I raise my chin. “It’s safer.”
She arches an eyebrow. “For who?”
“Everyone.”
She studies me for a long moment. “No. It’s safer for you.”
I shake my head. “You don’t understand.”
“I think I understand just fine.” Maggie’s voice is impossibly gentle.
She sets her mug on the small table beside her. “Come here.”
My feet move before my brain catches up. I don’t sit. I can’t. If I sit down, I don’t think I’ll be able to leave.
Maggie notices. “You’ve already decided.”
I nod. “They turned down millions because of me. They stood up to Alexander because of me. They’re changing everything because of me.” My voice cracks. “What if next time someone gets hurt? What if they lose this ranch? Lose everything they’ve built? What if—”
“What if they don’t?”
Maggie’s words stop me cold. I stare at her.
She reaches over and gently squeezes my hand. “Your mama gave you love.”
I frown, wondering where this is going. “She did.”
“What did your father give you?”
I laugh without humor. “Money.”
“Anything else?”
I think about it.
Birthdays I spent waiting for him to call. The checks that always arrived and the silence that came with them.
I shake my head. “No.”
Maggie studies me for a long moment. “Has any man ever loved you the way Gabriel does?”
The answer comes immediately. “No.”
“Have you ever loved a man the way you love him?”
My breath catches. I don’t answer. I don’t have to.
Maggie nods as though I’ve spoken aloud. “Then you’re standing in the middle of something you’ve never done before. You’re in love with a man who’s in love with you.”
She glances at the bag beside my feet. “So tell me, honey, why are you standing on my porch with a packed bag instead of waking the man who loves you and letting him help?”
“Because—” My voice cracks. “Because I’m scared.”
Maggie smiles sadly. “Of course you are. You’re trying to solve this with an old survival habit.” Her gaze drops to the overnight bag again. “Every time life got hard, you learned to pick up your bag because no one ever taught you there was another way.”
My throat tightens. “I can’t let them lose everything because of me.”
“Oh, honey. They aren’t choosing this because they have to. They’re choosing it because they love you.”
I close my eyes. “They don’t know what they’re risking.”
“They know enough.”
I shake my head. “No, they don’t.”
Maggie smiles gently. “They know enough to choose you anyway. Because you, my dear girl, are worth it. That’s what real love is. Letting someone stand beside you when life gets hard.”
Oh God. She’s right. I’ve been so busy trying to protect Gabriel that I haven’t stopped to ask what he wants.
I decided for him. Just as my father has always decided for everyone else.
No sooner does the knowledge settle than the porch creaks behind me.
I know who it is before I turn.
Gabriel stands in the doorway, barefoot in worn jeans and a faded T-shirt, his dark hair ruffled from sleep. One hand braces against the doorframe like he needed something solid to hold onto before stepping outside.
His mismatched eyes find mine. Then they drop to the overnight bag beside my feet.
His eyes fly back to mine, and he goes completely still. I see something inside him break. Not loudly. Like a fence post finally giving way after years of holding against the wind.
“You were leaving.”
It’s not a question. It’s disbelief.
I can’t make myself answer.
Maggie rises silently from the rocking chair. As she passes him, she rests a hand against his arm. “She isn’t anymore.”
She disappears inside, closing the screen door behind her.