Willow’s gaze flashed to her brother’s. “You can’t go, Carson. You have a meeting in twenty minutes.”
“Postpone it.”
“We can’t do that. You already postponed it once.”
He pushed out a breath through his nostrils. “Push it back a half an hour. I’ve got an idea.”
He left the room. A minute later, he returned…with the tall, handsome cowboy Felicity ran into when she arrived at the ranch. “Felicity, this is Gabe Thorne.”
She lifted her gaze to him, and found him staring at her with that same wrinkle over his brow she’d seen when they spoke outside.
“I’ve seen you around,” she said.
He ducked his head in a single nod but said nothing.
“Gabe’s helping me out. We can use more eyes on the scene of the crime.”
Crime was such an awful word. A shiver rolled through her, and she tensed her muscles to stop the tremor before anyone noticed.
Gabe noticed anyway.
“I’m going too.” Honor pushed away from the table.
Felicity threw out a hand. “No. Honor, you’re teaching an art class in half an hour.”
Her sister gave her that stubborn look Felicity knew all too well from their childhood. Before she could speak, Felicity shot down her argument.
“The vets need you. I’m fine.” She straightened her shoulders as if the words really made it so.
She stood to prove it, steadier on her feet than she’d felt all morning. Honor turned to her, clasping her hands, her wayward curls messy after running her hands through the mass during Felicity’s retelling of the events.
“You’re in good hands.”
“I know.” She squeezed Honor’s hands. Suddenly, she was more aware of the tall man standing there, still and silent, watching her like he was personally responsible for her.
That was silly. Gabe was only helping out Carson. He had no reason to watch out for her.
But as she followed the men outside, she couldn’t help but study the way the man moved, all rolling muscle that was both confident and…prepared for anything at the same time.
Carson paused to turn to her. “Want to ride with us?”
She glanced at her car. “I think I’ll drive.” Then she could go home and curl up in bed and let loose everything she’d bottled up.
He narrowed his eyes. “You’re okay to drive?”
She nodded.
Carson headed for the Black Heart Ranch truck, and Gabe hesitated just long enough for Felicity to feel it. He gave her a long, assessing look—as if deciding whether he trusted her to drive alone after everything she’d been through.
Then, with a decisive shift of his shoulders, he climbed into the truck beside Carson.
Felicity slid into her SUV and followed them down the long lane toward the road, her pulse still jumping in uneven beats. The last few hours spun through her mind—shattered shelves, police questions, her own voice cracking in her the Malones’ kitchen.
But one thing cut through all of it.
When she’d stood in the yard, lost and drowning in the fallout of the morning, Gabe had seen her breaking…and he hadn’t flinched.
He hadn’t turned away.
