Chapter 17
Ripplan
I had spent every night with Tammy for the past two weeks, and by now, the entire ranch knew about it.
I caught the hands trading glances whenever I crossed the yard at sunrise in yesterday's clothes, and John had crowed about winning the betting pool before breakfast was even half over.
Dutton had the nerve to smirk across the table, and Carter had actually winked when I passed the corrals, but I didn't give a damn.
Let them talk all they wanted, because as long as I got to pull Tammy against my chest each night and wake up to her sweet spice scent tangled in the sheets, their teasing was just background noise.
The ranch was running smoothly despite the undercurrent of gossip.
John still favored his left leg when he walked, but the deep gore wound on his thigh had closed into clean pink scar tissue.
The healing was entirely due to the fresh supplies Tammy's pharmacist friend in Franklin had overnighted to us, actual medicine rather than the diluted poison Craig Broussard had been peddling.
Jordan had confirmed our worst suspicion within two days of receiving the samples Tammy sent.
Every vial from the Leadville pharmacy had been tampered with.
The antibiotics were watered down until they were worthless, the anti-venom I received was nothing more than saline with preservatives, and the pain medication had been cut with cheap filler.
Seth had rotted from sepsis because Craig decided an Orc life wasn't worth saving, and I had come far to close to dying for the exact same reason.
Tammy's friend Georginna, who used to work for the FBI, had made a few calls, and federal agents had descended on Leadville like a sudden storm.
The local sheriff walked in first, and Thurlee told me Craig had stood behind the counter looking smug, convinced his family name and local influence would shield him.
That arrogance crumbled the second the federal badges followed the sheriff through the door.
Craig had broken down in tears, sobbing while he tried to claim he was only protecting the town from dangerous beasts.
The agents arrested him on the spot, and they were still tearing through his records, uncovering years of calculated malice, diluted prescriptions, and deliberate neglect.
It felt like a start toward justice, though it didn't quite extinguish the dark heat sitting at the base of my skull.
That lingering anger was the only reason I was leaning against the side of the truck on a bright Tuesday afternoon, baking in the high-altitude sun while Tammy and Thurlee finished their errands.
Emotions were raw in town, split right down the middle between those who were disgusted by Craig's crimes and loyalists who resented the outside scrutiny, but Thurlee had refused to change her baking schedule for anyone.
I'd insisted on driving them down the mountain, and Tammy had rewarded my stubbornness by kissing my cheek in plain daylight and telling me to guard the truck like a good boy.
I'd grumbled under my breath, but she only laughed, knowing full well I would stand watch until she was safely back in the passenger seat.
The mountain air smelled like dry pine needles, road dust, and the vanilla sugar drifting from the bakery down the street. It looked like a quiet afternoon in Leadville, until a pair of polished boots scuffed the asphalt behind me.
I didn't need to look over my shoulder to recognize that lazy, drawling tone. Walker Broussard had the kind of voice that made every word sound like an insult wrapped in silver paper.
"Well, well. If it isn't the Orc foreman."
I pushed off the truck slowly and turned to face him. He stood ten feet away with his hands tucked into the pockets of his jeans, expensive sunglasses pushed up into his styled hair, wearing the untouchable sneer of a man who had never faced a real consequence in his life.
"Walker," I said flatly.
"Ripplan," he replied, giving me a thin smile that never touched his eyes. "You seem pretty comfortable lounging around town lately. Is it nice having the federal government fight your battles for you?"
My shoulders tightened, but I kept my posture relaxed. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Sure you do," he said, taking an arrogant step closer. "My brother gets dragged out in handcuffs, his business gets shut down, and his reputation ruined, all because of you StoneSteels."
"Your brother killed Seth," I said, keeping my voice low and dangerously steady. "He nearly killed me, and he poisoned half the human hands on our payroll. He's fortunate the federal agents put him in handcuffs before I had five minutes alone with him in a dark room."
Walker chuckled, shaking his head with dismissive amusement.
"That's the problem with your kind. You always resort to melodrama and threats.
Craig was trying to maintain order. He was looking out for the people who actually belong here, the way things were before you crawled out of the ground and started claiming what was never yours. "
The insult was pathetic, but the smug confidence behind it grated against my nerves. "Claiming what wasn't ours?"
"Every acre of this valley belonged to the Broussards," Walker said, his voice dropping into a tight hiss. "We built Leadville from the dirt up. That gold and those gemstones you drag out of the mountain are part of our heritage, and you walked in and stole our birthright."
I looked at him for two full seconds before a laugh tore out of my throat, sharp and utterly humorless.
"You think we stole from you?" I shook my head, letting my amusement show. "You're just choking on your own pride because we were able to buy the ranch fair and square?"
Walker's smirk faltered, his jaw tightening. "My family built an empire worth millions."
"Millions," I repeated, letting the word drop between us like cheap copper. "That's adorable. Last time Brylan reviewed our assets, only one man on the planet had more liquidity than us, some eccentric fellow named Elon. Have you heard of him?"
It was an outright fabrication, of course.
We were wealthy enough to live comfortably for generations, but we weren't buying aerospace companies.
Still, watching the color drain from Walker's face was worth every syllable.
Men like him based their entire identity on being the biggest fish in the pond, and planting doubt in his head was better than throwing a punch.
Walker's cheeks flushed a mottled, ugly crimson. "You're full of shit."
"Try me," I said, stepping forward until the shadow of my shoulders fell across his chest. "We can lay our financial statements side by side whenever you like, Walker.
Whatever your family scraped together over a century, we extracted in twelve months of mining, and every ounce of it is legally ours, protected by the same laws you think you own. "
His hands twitched at his sides, his fists balling inside his pockets. "You think you've won because Craig is behind bars and you have fancy paper from the government, but this town will never accept you. One day, we'll make sure you end up back in the dark where you belong."
"You're welcome to spend your money trying," I said softly. "We're not leaving our ranch, and anyone who tries to force us out will regret the attempt."
Walker sneered, tilting his chin up in defiance. "Is that a threat?"
"It is a statement of fact."
The silence stretched between us, thick and brittle. Down the wooden boardwalk, a shopkeeper stepped out, paused, and quickly ducked back inside. Walker noticed the audience, and a venomous gleam returned to his eyes.
"I suppose that explains why your little human pet stays around," he said.
"What did you say?"
"That nurse," Walker said, deliberately lowering his voice to a dirty purr. "Tammy. I was wondering what it took to convince a pretty little thing like that to play the whore for a monster, but I guess your gold makes up for the tusks."
The air vanished from my lungs, replaced by a surge of heat so violent that the world blurred red around the edges.
Every muscle coiled, my tusks aching with the primal urge to drive him through the nearest wall.
My claws bit into my palms as I fought the beast clawing inside my chest, forcing my lungs to draw air.
Tammy wouldn't want me sitting behind bars for manslaughter. She needed a partner, not a convict.
"Watch your mouth," I growled, the warning vibrating deep in my ribs.
"Why should I?" Walker leaned in, mistaking my restraint for hesitation.
"She's already used goods anyway. Her fiance rolled into town this morning, and he seemed pretty eager to drag his runaway girl back home.
Did she forget to mention she already belonged to someone else, or are you just too stupid to care? "
My rational thought shattered.
My hand moved before my brain could stop it, latching onto the collar of his shirt.
I hoisted him off the pavement with one arm, slamming him against the side of the truck hard enough to shake the suspension.
His feet dangled six inches off the ground, his expensive sunglasses tumbling into the dirt.
"Her ex is a worthless coward," I said, my voice dropping to a gravelly rasp that made his eyes widen in sudden terror. "And if he's in this town looking for her, it's a mistake he's going to regret."
The acrid stench of pure fear rolled off Walker's skin, drowning out his cologne.
I dragged him an inch closer, making sure he felt the heat radiating from my face. "If you ever speak her name again, or if you ever look in her direction, I will tear you apart with my bare hands. Do you understand me?"
Walker nodded frantically, his throat working against the grip on his collar.
"Good," I muttered, releasing him with enough force that he hit the ground and fell hard onto his hands and knees against the gravel.
I wanted to drive my boot into his ribs, but Tammy's face flashed behind my eyelids.
I remembered how soft she had looked waking up in my arms this morning, the warmth of her fingers against my cheek, and the trust in her bright blue eyes.
She didn't need bloodshed on the main street of Leadville.
She needed me to protect her from the man who was now skulking around town hunting her.
I turned my back on Walker without another word, lengthening my stride toward the general store.
Walker shouted something behind me about calling the sheriff, but his voice was thin and distant. He was nothing, just a petty annoyance barking in the wind.
Arlo was here.
The man who had isolated Tammy, bruised her spirit, and driven her across the country in the middle of the night had followed her to our mountain.
A cold, lethal clarity settled over my blood. If Arlo laid a single finger on my mate, if he caused her a second of fear or pain, I would end him where he stood.