FOURTEEN. #2
I turn my head to look at her, tracing the lines of her face—the way her brows are pinched tight, the hard set of her jaw, the way she chews the inside of her lip like she’s trying to keep everything locked down.
I wish I could smooth that tension away, pull her against me until the fear dissolves into something safer.
But for now I just stay close, shoulder almost brushing hers, letting her feel that I’m here.
“I know it’s probably intimidating being out here by yourself, but I will do everything I can to protect you and this ranch.
” Her eyes slide sideways to meet mine. “I’ve worked here nearly half my life.
No one’s ever laid a hand on Ray or Linda, or hurt any of the animals.
I don’t think you have anything to worry about. ”
She turns her head fully now, glaring hard. “Someone literally just trespassed onto my property. And you’re telling me I don’t have anything to worry about?”
“Robby is…” I start, then press my lips together, searching for the right way to explain how things work in a small town like this.
“He’s not a threat the way you’re thinking.
If he’s still after the ranch, he was probably just trying to scare you enough that you’d spiral, start questioning whether it’s worth the risk. ”
She lets out a short, humorless laugh. “Well, he was definitely onto something, because it’s working.” The admission lands like a punch to the chest. Would she really leave after what happened? Does she feel that unsafe, even with me right down the road?
“You want me to talk with him?” I offer quietly.
She sighs, long and tired, but doesn’t answer right away. Her gaze drifts back over the field, watching the cows move. Then her eyes narrow with sudden focus. “You said ‘still after the ranch.’ Does that mean he was coming after it before me?”
I nod. “He made plenty of offers to Linda after Ray died. She was a strong-willed woman, though. Never flinched at the numbers, no matter how high they climbed.”
Ever dips her head and closes her eyes. Shit. I definitely shouldn’t have said that.
“Not that I’m judging you for considering it,” I add quickly. “You’re in a different situation. If you wanted to sell and move back to Chicago, you’d have every right.”
Every muscle in my body locks tight. What the hell am I doing? Handing her an easy out like that? Telling her it’s fine to pack up and go back to the city. I drop my gaze to the ground, staring at the worn toe of my boot, trying to claw my way out of the hole I just dug.
“Look,” I start again, softer this time.
She still won’t lift her eyes. “It’s not wrong if the money tempts you.
If this life isn’t what you want—if the quiet and the work and the isolation wear you down—then that’s okay.
But if you do want to stay, if you want to make this place your home and build something here, then what Robby and Mr. Jenkins do or say doesn’t have to mean anything.
They’re just waiting for you to crack so they can swoop in and take what they’ve wanted for years.
But there are still laws. They can’t just force you out. ”
She nods slowly, absorbing the words without flinching, but her face stays closed off, unreadable. She’s retreating somewhere inside herself, and the possibility that I helped push her there makes me hate myself.
I bring my hand up and drag it down the side of my jaw. Rage simmers low in my gut—not at her, not even at Robby or Jenkins, but at myself. For not seeing this coming sooner. For not being here earlier, so I could have warded it off before it ever reached her doorstep.
“You’re safe here, Ever,” I say, the words coming out rough. “If Robby shows up again pulling some stupid stunt, I will personally beat him into the ground for you.” The promise seethes through my teeth, edged with the anger I can’t quite keep out of my voice.
She lifts her head slowly, opens her eyes, and turns them to me. I keep my gaze fixed on the horizon, feeling the weight of her stare move over my face.
“If you end up in jail because you beat someone up on my behalf,” she says, her tone suddenly lighter, threaded with dry amusement, “then I’ll really have to sell this place.” I glance sideways at her. “I can’t do this without you, Tobias.”
The words hit me square in the chest—aching and warm all at once, swelling until there’s no room left for the anger. Her gaze flickers over my features, the honest truth of it laid bare between us.
“I’m not going anywhere,” I tell her, letting my voice drop softer, calmer, steady enough that she can feel the certainty behind every word. I need her to know she isn’t facing any of this alone, that she doesn’t have to carry the weight by herself.
She studies me for another moment, then tilts her head slightly. “How did you even get to my place so fast? You pulled up minutes after the shot rang out.”
The question catches me off guard, and my heart stutters hard. My gaze drops to her lips before I can stop it—the memory of the dream surges back, her mouth parted on my name, the heat of her skin. I force my eyes back up to hers.
“I was already awake,” I say, keeping it vague. “Couldn’t sleep.”
She arches an eyebrow, curiosity sharpening her expression. “Couldn’t sleep,” she repeats, skepticism thick in her tone. “Why? Because you were with that secret girl you were meeting at the farmers market?”
I let out a quiet laugh and shake my head. “I know you had high hopes that I was on a date that day, and I hate to disappoint you, but no. It wasn’t a date.”
“Then who were you meeting?” Her voice turns serious now, eyes narrowing as though she’s still not convinced I’m telling the full truth.
I let the moment stretch, watching the suspicion build in her expression, the way her brows draw tighter with every second I don’t answer. A grin tugs at the corner of my mouth despite myself.
“You are unbelievable,” she finally says, exasperation creeping in. “How am I supposed to believe you when you won’t even tell me?”
“I was meeting my mom.”
“Bullshit,” she fires back without missing a beat, quick and easy on her tongue. “You were not meeting your mom. That’s worse than lying about a date.”
I chuckle under my breath and shrug. “Why is it so hard to believe?”
She leans back against the fence rail, studying me like she’s trying to decide if she still recognizes the man standing in front of her.
“You went and got that sourdough, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Did you happen to go to the booth next door? The one with the crocheted flowers lined up at the front?” Her eyes flicker over my face, her mind clearly racing to pull the memory forward. “That was my mom’s booth. She sets up once or twice a month. She’s got nothing better to do these days.”
“That was your mom?” Her voice softens almost with awe. “Why didn’t you tell me? I would have liked to meet her.”
“I thought about it,” I admit, and her eyes lift at the corners, her whole face brightening in a way that makes my chest tighten. “She’s a bit much, though. She’ll talk your ear off for hours if you let her.”
“So she’s nothing like you, then,” she teases, the lightness returning to her tone. “Well, I’d like to meet her. So if I see her at the next event, just know I’m going to stop and talk to her. And hopefully get some embarrassing stories about you.”
I sigh, long and deep. My mom would absolutely humor her—would probably leap at the chance to spill every childhood mishap, every awkward teenage phase, especially once she gets a good look at Ever. She’ll see how genuine and beautiful she is, and then the matchmaking will begin.
“She would love to meet you,” I tell her, because it’s the truth. She probably knows more about Ever than I do. My mom and Linda stayed close right up until the end. Maybe that’s why I didn’t bring it up that day.
“Maybe next time, then,” She says gently. I give her an easy smile and a nod, letting the subject settle.
She turns back to the fence rail and rests her arms down as she gazes out over the pasture. The sun is higher now, and I know I’m already behind on the morning’s work. But I’m starting to realize the ranch isn’t the most important thing to me anymore. Not by a long shot.
She is.