Page 61 of Rancher's Embrace


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“Except we’ve got families sleeping two miles that way,” Nash said. “Let’s keep it quiet.”

Kipp clapped his gloves together. “Ryder, you and Griff follow the tire tracks to the road. Get a tread cast. Nash, take photos near the porch. I’ll pull your camera feeds, Linc.”

They moved without hesitation. Each man fell into rhythm, like the years between this and the old days had never happened.

I stood still a second longer, staring at the tree line. The wind moved through the branches, soft and low, a whisper in the dark. That crawling feeling under my skin wouldn’t quit. It wasn’t fear. It was familiarity.

Whoever had been here knew what they were doing. They knew how to move unseen, how to watch, how to disappear.

And they’d been close enough to see her through the kitchen window.

An hour passed before the yard settled again. The snow had started to fall heavily, slow flakes spinning through the light like ash. The men drifted back one by one, their breath white in the dark. Ryder leaned against his tailgate, his phone glowing in his hand as he typed out notes. Griff stood near the fence, his shoulders broad and still. Nash tightened the strap on his gloves, watching the tree line. Kipp poured the last of his coffee into the lid of his thermos and handed it to me.

“Tire cast looks good,” Ryder said. “No plates on the road, but we’ll match the tread when we get it run through the shop.”

Griff held up his phone, showing me a picture of the cigarette butt sealed in a bag. “We’ll send it to Billings in the morning. Our contact still owes me.”

Kipp nodded once. “Until we know more, this stays between us. Kristin doesn’t need the weight of it yet.”

Nobody argued.

Nash gave a half-hearted smile. “Lexie’s going to figure it out faster than any of us. She’s got radar for trouble.”

Ryder chuckled, though it held no real humor. “Too late. She already texted me twice asking why I’m out at midnight.”

Kipp shot them both a look that cut through the joking. “This isn’t gossip. Someone crossed onto our property tonight. That makes it a threat, and we treat it like one.”

“Yes, sir,” Ryder said, the grin fading.

The trucks peeled away one after another, their engines low against the snow. The red of their taillights glowed on the drifted fence posts until the darkness swallowed them whole.

When the last sound faded, I was alone again. The yard looked clean, almost peaceful. The horses shifted quietly in the pasture, steam rising off their backs. From the house, a single window glowed a golden hue. It looked small out here, fragile against all this space.

I took one last slow circle of the yard. The flashlight beam swept over the tracks that led to the fence, the faint marks where the wire had bent. Snow had already started to fill them. By morning, it would be like no one had ever stood there. But I had seen it, and that was enough.

I stepped inside, boots heavy with snow. The warmth hit me all at once, carrying the smell of coffee and wood smoke. The quiet in here was a different kind of heavy. Kristin stood at thetop of the stairs, wrapped in my flannel, legs bare, and her hair loose around her face.

“Well?” she asked, her voice small.

I climbed the steps slowly. “Nothing out there now. Probably someone cutting through on a trail.”

Her shoulders sagged a little, and the breath she let out came shaky. “You’re sure?”

“Positive.”

It was a lie, and it lodged deep in my throat, but I forced a smile anyway.

She searched my face for another beat, then nodded and stepped aside so I could pass. We walked together into the bedroom, the floorboards creaking under our feet. She slipped back under the quilt while I set the rifle against the wall and kicked off my boots.

She was trembling when I slid in beside her, though she tried to hide it by tucking herself into my chest. I wrapped my arms around her and let my hand rest on her back until her breathing evened out.

“You’re safe,” I whispered.

Her fingers twisted into my shirt. “Promise?”

“Promise.”

I waited until her body went still before I reached for my phone on the nightstand. The screen lit the room with a faint blue glow.