Chapter 55
JAKE
I'm in the storm shelter with Luke, finalizing the alarm system we’re installing in Emma’s house, when Mason walks in, back from a trip to town. "Garrett's still asking questions.”
I don't look up from the map. "About?"
"Eli Turner. You."
Mason's tone is neutral, but I hear the edge underneath, and I look up.
He has his stoic face on, which always makes me stop and assess. He takes a seat at the table opposite us. "I stopped at the diner before coming home. I heard people mention the sheriff's been making rounds, talking to people about Eli going missing."
Luke huffs, tipping on the back two legs of his chair. "Let me guess. Nobody knows shit."
"Pretty much." Mason crosses his arms. "But people are talking. Asking questions about you. About why you came back to Iron Ridge after eighteen years. About your connection to Emma. About Eli."
I shrug. "People have always said things about me.”
"True," Mason says. "But this is different. Garrett's not just making casual inquiries. He's asking specific questions about when anyone last saw Eli. Where he might have gone. Whether anyone knows if he left town."
"Obviously, he left town," I say flatly. "Nobody's seen him because he's not here to be seen."
Luke grins, dark and humorless. "Yeah, funny how that works."
Mason leans forward, his elbows on his knees. "Garrett's frustrated. His daughter, the deputy, came in and mentioned that her dad thinks something's off, but he's got nothing concrete to work with. Nobody's cooperating. Nobody's talking."
"Good.” I shift the plans on the table, ready to get back to it.
"Warden." Mason's voice drops. "Garrett's not stupid. He knows something's off. If he starts connecting dots—"
"There are no dots to connect." I straighten, rolling up the papers. "Garrett's got no body, no witnesses, and no evidence. All he's got is a missing person who liked to drink and party. That's not enough to build a case."
"It's enough to keep digging," Mason counters.
"Let him dig." I meet his eyes. "There's nothing to find."
Luke picks his feet up and props them on the table, arms stretched behind his head. "What if he pushes harder? Starts asking Emma directly?"
"There’s no body, which means there’s no crime," I point out calmly. "For all Garrett knows, Eli got spooked and left town. Happens all the time with guys like him."
Mason's not convinced. "And if he doesn't buy that?"
"Then we stick to the story." I keep my voice calm, controlled. "Emma doesn't know anything. She wasn't involved. We've got nothing to hide because we didn't do anything wrong."
"Depends on who you ask," Luke says dryly.
Mason studies me closely. "You're confident."
"I'm careful." I hold his gaze. "Garrett can ask all the questions he wants. We don't give him answers. We don't volunteer information. We stay calm, stay consistent, and let him chase ghosts."
"And if he escalates?"
"There’s nothing to escalate." I lean back against the workbench.
"Garrett's a small-town sheriff dealing with a missing person case that's going cold.
He doesn't have the resources or the jurisdiction to make this a priority.
Eventually, he'll move on. Eli Turner wasn’t exactly a beloved citizen of Iron Ridge. "
Luke tilts his head. "And his older brother?”
"If he comes sniffing around, we’ll handle it then.”
Mason doesn't look entirely satisfied, but he nods. "All right."
"Agreed," Luke confirms.
"And Emma?" Mason asks quietly. "She holding up okay with all this?"
I think about this morning—the way she kicked me out, her voice steady and certain as she told me she's my partner, not my possession. "She's fine. She's stronger than people think."
Luke shakes his head. "If Garrett starts pressing her—"
"He won't get anything." My voice is flat, absolute. "Emma knows what's at stake. She's not going to break."
My phone beeps with a text.
Emma
On my way.
See you in a few.
Luke lets his chair drop to the ground and looks over my arm. “Are you going to send her a kissy face back?”
I give him a flat look.
“Better yet, send her a taco.” Luke pretends to frown, scratching his chin. “Unless you think that’s too obvious.”
Mason snorts.
We wrap up and close the barn right as Emma pulls up to the house in her truck. I know the sound of her engine like I know my own heartbeat.
Luke grins. "I can’t believe she forgave you for being a controlling asshole this morning."
"Fuck off,” I say as I walk out to meet her. But he's not wrong. I've been replaying the conversation all day—the way Emma stood in her hallway in my shirt, her voice calm and steady as she told me off. The way she unbuttoned the shirt and handed it to me while she told me how it was going to be.
I'm not your possession. I'm your partner.
She's right.
I know she's right. But knowing it and accepting it are two different things.
Emma's truck is parked in front of the house, and she's pulling a bag and her camera case from the passenger seat.
An overnight bag.
Relief floods through me so fast it's almost painful. She's staying.
"Hey," I say as I approach, keeping my voice neutral even though I want to pull her into my arms and never let go.
She turns, watching me closely. "Hey."
"You moving in?" I try to joke, reaching out for both her bags.
"For the weekend. If that's okay." She lets me take them from her. "I brought my camera. Thought I'd get some shots of the ranch and you guys this weekend."
Mason steps up beside me, his tone easy. "You're always welcome here, Emma."
"Thanks, Mason." She smiles at him, then at Luke. "I actually came to talk to all three of you."
Luke raises an eyebrow. "Sounds serious."
"Not serious.” She shrugs. "I have something I want to give you."
I frown. "Give us?"
She pushes her shoulders back, her posture shifting into something more confident. "My dad kept a herd of wild horses on the north section of Circle H. About twenty head. Mustangs, mostly, with a few quarter horse crosses. They're beautiful, and they're mine now."
"Okay," I say slowly, not sure where this is going.
"I want to give them to Blackthorn Ranch."
Silence.
I look at Mason and Luke. They both look as blown away as I feel.
Mason steps forward, his dark eyes intense. "You want to give us horses."
Emma meets his intimidating intensity head-on. "Yes."
Luke flashes a grin. "Like, for free?"
"Yes, Luke. For free." Emma's tone is dry, but amusement curves her lips.
"I know you guys have been talking about expanding into horse breeding.
Mason mentioned it at dinner the other night.
These horses are good stock—strong, healthy, used to Montana winters.
They'd be a solid foundation for a breeding program. "
I stare at her, my mind trying to catch up.
She's giving us horses. Not asking for anything in return. Not making it conditional. Just... giving.
Mason recovers first. "Emma, that's generous, but—"
"But nothing." She cuts him off gently. "I want to do this. It's my way of supporting Blackthorn." She glances at me, her expression softening. "This is mine to give. My choice."
Luke lets out a low whistle. "Damn, Emma. That's—"
"A hell of a gift," Mason finishes. "Are you sure?"
"I'm sure." She nods. "My dad loved those horses, but I don't have the time or resources to manage them properly. You guys do. And I think he'd like knowing they went to people who'd take care of them."
I can't speak.
My chest is too tight, my throat too thick.
She's not just giving us horses.
She's giving us her trust. Her partnership. Her commitment to this—to us—on her own terms. She’s giving us—especially Mason—purpose.
Mason steps forward and extends his hand. "We'd be honored to take them."
Emma shakes his hand, her smile widening. "Good. I have all the paperwork and the vet records with me. They're all up to date on vaccinations and hoof care."
"You're serious about this," Luke says, still grinning like an idiot.
"Dead serious."
"Well, shit." He shakes his head. "I guess we're in the horse business now."
Mason's already pulling out his phone, his tactical mind shifting into planning mode. "We'll need to clear the east pasture and reinforce the fencing. The barn can hold maybe ten head comfortably, but we'll need to build additional shelter for the rest."
"I can help with that," Emma offers. "I know their habits—where they like to graze, how they interact with each other. There's a lead mare named Sage who's the boss. If you keep her happy, the rest will follow."
Luke laughs. "A bossy mare. Sounds familiar."
Emma shoots him a look, but she's smiling. "Careful, Bennett."
"Yes, ma'am."
I finally find my voice. I take her hand. "Thank you."
She turns to me, her expression softening. "You're welcome."
"This is—" I stop, searching for the right words. "This means a lot."
"I know." She steps closer, her hand brushing mine. "I'm not trying to prove anything, Jake. I just want to be part of this. Part of what you're building here. On my terms."
"I get it." And I do. "You're mine, but I’m yours too.”
"Exactly." Her smile is small but genuine.
Mason clears his throat. "Okay, this is getting too sappy for me. I'm going to start mapping out the pasture logistics."
"I'll help," Luke says, already heading back toward the barn. "We need to figure out feed costs and water access."
They disappear inside, leaving Emma and me standing alone in the driveway.
I tug her hand. "Come on. I'll show you where you're sleeping."
"Your room?"
"Where else?"
She laughs softly. "Just checking."