“I didn’t tell you everything,” she said. “Not because I didn’t trust you. Because I didn’t want to decide for you.”
Tanner’s voice was gentle. “Decide what?”
“Whether this place was worth the risk.”
Cole’s expression hardened, not with anger but with clarity. “You don’t get to decide that alone.”
“I know,” she said. “That’s why I’m telling you now.”
She explained — concisely, without drama. A dispute that had escalated beyond reason. Pressure disguised as obligation. A refusal that hadn’t been accepted.
She didn’t name names. She didn’t have to.
When she finished, Cole nodded once. “You’re right. This isn’t random.”
Adrian returned moments later, expression grim. “Tracks match what she saw. Vehicle slowed. Didn’t commit.”
Cole exhaled slowly. “They’re probing.”
Tanner glanced between them. “Then we need to decide how visible we want to be.”
Cole looked back at her. “If you stay, this becomes our problem.” “I understand,” she said. “And if you ask me to leave—” “I’m not,” he interrupted.
That surprised her.
He held her gaze steadily. “But staying means full transparency. No holding things back to protect us from a choice we’re capable of making.”
She nodded. “Agreed.”
Tanner reached for his mug. “Well,” he said lightly, “that settles that.” Adrian’s eyes met hers briefly. “You did the right thing.” Relief washed through her — not because the threat was gone, but because she wasn’t carrying it alone any more.
Later, as Cole coordinated next steps and the ranch shifted into a different kind of readiness, she stood by the window, watching the land that had seemed so neutral only days ago.
She hadn’t brought danger here.
But she had brought truth.
And that, she realised, was the moment everything truly changed.
**CHAPTER TEN.
The ranch changed tone without changing pace.
There were no raised voices. No dramatic announcements. Just small, deliberate adjustments that rippled outward from Cole like a signal only the three of them recognised.
Adrian moved the vehicles. Tanner checked supplies. Cole spoke quietly into his phone, words clipped and precise.
She watched for a moment, then spoke. “Tell me where you want me.” All three looked at her.
Cole didn’t answer immediately. He assessed — not her courage, but her usefulness. When he spoke, it was with the same matter-of-fact calm he’d used since the beginning.
“You stay within sight of the house unless one of us says otherwise,” he said. “You keep your phone charged. And if something feels wrong, you don’t second-guess it.”
“That’s it?” she asked.
“That’s the minimum,” he replied. “What you do beyond that depends on you.”
She nodded. “I won’t be a liability.”
