Chapter 1
Liam
The Wedding Tree stretched its ancient arms above us, strings of lights turning the whole damn thing into something out of a fairy tale. Wyatt had his arm around Ivy, both of them glowing like they'd swallowed sunshine, and the sight of it made something twist hard in my chest.
My brother had fought for fourteen years to get his woman back.
Fourteen years of missing her, wanting her, waiting for her to come home.
And now here they stood under the tree that had seen every Blackwood milestone for two generations, celebrating that Ivy was finally, permanently, irrevocably home.
"You're next, Lee." Maggie’s beer sloshed dangerously close to the rim when she hip-checked me like she owned the damn place—which, to be fair, she kinda did. "I can feel it in my bones."
I huffed. "Your bones are full of crap."
"Bullshit," Clay cut in, grabbing her around the waist and lifting her clean off her feet while she shrieked. “I’ve got ladies lined up from here to Fort Worth. I’ll be married with three kids before Liam even looks at a woman twice.”
"Put me down, you ass!" Maggie smacked at him, but the sparkle in her eyes gave her away. She thrived on this—being in the middle of us, wrangling us like she was born doing it. Boss of the Blackwoods since the day she could talk.
Clay set her on her boots, and she straightened her top like her dignity had been wounded. It hadn’t. Maggie didn’t stay rattled long. Not ever. She was the one who held the whole damn family together with grit, spreadsheets, and sheer force of will.
"Twenty bucks says it's Hunter," Sophia chimed in, nudging our quietest brother with her shoulder. My little sister. Nurse now. Stronger than she knew. I still saw the girl who used to fall asleep with her head on my arm when nightmares got too big. Proud of her didn’t even begin to cover it.
"Still waters run deep. He's probably got a secret girlfriend stashed somewhere. "
Hunter just shook his head, that small smile barely there. Man spoke in nods and glances, but he always saw everything. My opposite in a dozen ways, but my brother all the same.
All of them—blood or not. Blackwood by love, by loyalty, by Owen and Louisa opening their door the night Soph and I’s parents were murdered and never letting go. That’s what family meant here. Not DNA. Choice. Promise. Home.
“Fifty says Maggie falls first,” Clay announced, dancing out of reach as she swatted at him again. “Some cowboy’s gonna sweep her off her feet at a rodeo, and she’ll be married by Christmas.”
“In your actual delusional dreams,” Maggie shot back. “I don’t have time for cowboys. I’m too busy keeping you three feral toddlers alive and this ranch from burning to the ground.”
She jabbed a thumb at her chest. “I run this circus. Y’all are just the clowns.”
Clay barked a laugh. “See? Denial. Classic pre-fall symptoms.”
“Keep talking,” she warned, “and I’ll put your sorry ass on mucking duty for a month.”
Clay opened his mouth, probably to wind her up even more, but I cut in.
“You’re all idiots,” I said, taking a pull from my beer. “Wyatt’s miracle doesn’t mean the rest of us are dropping like dominoes.”
But my hand slid into my pocket anyway, like it had a mind of its own.
My phone screen was blank. No messages. No missed calls. Just the background photo I’d never managed to change—Stephy laughing at something off-camera, her hair wild in the wind, those green eyes bright enough to knock a man flat.
Stevie Wilson to the rest of the world. But she was Stephy to me. Only to me.
“Earth to Liam.” Maggie waved a hand in front of my face, eyebrows up like she’d already diagnosed the problem and prescribed a solution I didn’t want. “Where’d you go?”
“Nowhere.” I shoved the phone deeper in my pocket. “Just thinking you’re all gonna owe me money when Clay ends up married to one of his buckle bunnies.”
“Never happening,” Clay declared, grinning wide and unbothered. “I’m too pretty to tie down.”
The music kicked up louder—some country song about forever and always—and couples drifted toward the makeshift dance floor. Owen had Louisa tucked under his arm, spinning her slow like she was made of light. Wyatt pulled Ivy close, whispering something that made her smile into his shoulder.
The ache in my chest spread wider. Heavier.
God, I missed Stephy.
The thought hit like it always did—sudden and brutal. Seven months since I’d seen her in person. Seven months of texts, calls, and voice messages that never quite filled the space she used to take up without trying.
Stephy and I had been inseparable since we were kids—next-door neighbors in Austin, growing up on adjoining patches of worn grass and matching childhood scars. A soul-deep kind of bond. The kind you don’t question because it’s woven into who you are.
And yeah, once—five years ago—we crossed a line.
After one of her concerts, when the music was still buzzing in her veins, and I was looking at her like I always had, like she hung the damn moon.
One night of giving in, of letting years of almosts burn hot for a few stolen hours.
Then morning came, and we both chose what we’d always been first—best friends.
Our lives spun in different directions after that. Her chasing stages and spotlight. Me chasing justice at law school and then the Texas Rangers and the quiet kind of purpose.
Our stars never aligned, not really.
But the love? That never went anywhere.
Not for me.
And seven months without her—without that laugh, that steadiness, that piece of home she carried everywhere—hit like a punch to the ribs every damn time.
My phone buzzed, yanking me out of my thoughts. The party crashed back into focus—music, laughter, family everywhere.
I pulled out my phone. LA area code.
Something cold slithered down my spine. Stephy never called from unknown numbers. She had a personal cell, a business cell, and she guarded both like state secrets.
I stepped away from the lights, from the noise, walking toward the shadows at the edge of the party before answering.
"Walker."
There was just breathing. Ragged, broken breathing. Then a sound—half sob, half whimper—that made every protective instinct in my body fire at once.
"Lee..."
Her voice was wrong. Completely wrong. Shattered glass and raw terror and something so broken it made my chest cave in. In all the years I'd known her—through her parents' divorce, through failed relationships, through the exhaustion of touring—I'd never heard her sound like this.
"Stephy?" I gripped the phone harder. "What's wrong? Talk to me, sweetheart."
"He... Lee, he was in my house. He was—" Her voice cracked, splintered apart. "I need you. Please, I need you."
The terror in her voice was visceral, alive, crawling through the phone to wrap around my throat. This wasn't my confident superstar. This wasn't even my vulnerable best friend. This was Stephy stripped down to pure fear.
I staggered back and grabbed the fence behind me. ”Are you safe right now? Are you hurt?” I could barely get the words out, but I needed to know.
"I don't... I can't..." She was hyperventilating. "The police were here, but they're gone now, and my security is useless and my manager just wants to control the story and I'm so scared, Lee. I'm so fucking scared."
"Where are you exactly?"
"My house. LA. I'm locked in my bedroom, but I don't... I keep thinking he's coming back."
I started walking towards the house. ”He's not. You hear me? He's not coming back. I'm coming to get you.”
"You promised," she whispered. Christ, she sounded so small. "You promised if I needed you—"
"I'm coming. Right now. I'm already moving."
"My phone's about to die. I dropped it when he... when he grabbed me and the screen is cracked and—"
"Stephy, listen to me. Lock the bedroom door. Push something heavy in front of it. Stay on the phone as long as you can, but if it dies, you stay locked in that room until I get there. Six hours. Can you give me six hours?"
"Please hurry." Her voice broke completely. "Please, Lee. I can't... I need you."
The line went dead.
I stood there for three seconds—just three—letting the panic settle into something sharp and focused. Then I turned and strode back toward the party with thunder rolling across my face.
Uncle Owen saw me first. He stepped away from Aunt Lou instantly, the easy warmth in his eyes snapping into concern.
“What’s wrong, son?”
“Steph’s in trouble,” I said, voice rough. “Someone attacked her in LA. I need to get to her. Now.”
He didn’t hesitate. Didn’t ask for details. Didn’t need them. He just nodded once—tight, decisive.
“Take my truck to the airfield. I’ll call Tom and tell him we need his jet. That it’s urgent.”
“Uncle Owen—”
“Go.” His hand closed around my shoulder, grounding me when everything inside felt like it was spinning. “Bring her home, Liam. Whatever it takes, bring your girl home.”
I didn’t want to impose on someone else, but I wasn’t about to argue. Not when it came to Steph.
Wyatt and Ivy reached us in a rush, Wyatt’s hand already coming to my arm, steady and familiar, eyes scanning my face like he was reading every fracture.
“Liam,” he said quietly. “What’s wrong?”
“Steph’s been attacked,” I managed. Ivy gasped, a hand clamping over her mouth. “I’m going to get her and bring her home.”
Wyatt’s jaw locked. “Tell me what you need.”
Ivy stepped in closer, her energy soft but fierce, the kind of calm that cut through chaos. “We’ll get your guest cabin ready. Clean sheets, supplies—whatever she might need when she gets here.”
“And I’ll tighten security around the ranch,” Wyatt said, already shifting into protector mode. “Just get to her. We’ll handle everything here.”
My chest tightened—not with fear this time, but something that felt dangerously like gratitude. They had never even met her. But they knew me. Knew what she meant. And that was enough.
I nodded once, sharp, because speaking felt impossible. Then I turned and sprinted for the truck.
As I tore down the drive in Owen’s Ford, gravel spitting behind me, I caught a glimpse in the rearview mirror: Wyatt already pulling out his phone, Ivy hurrying toward the house, Aunt Lou gathering the family, Clay and Hunter moving with purpose.
All of them stepping in. All of them stepping up. Not because they owed Stephy anything. But because they loved me. And I loved her.
And that was all this family ever needed.