“Like you forgot to be afraid?”
Heat crept up my neck. “I guess not.”
“Well,” he said, his voice low, “you should. It suits you.”
I smiled as I stepped out onto the porch and leaned against the railing, keeping an eye on Lucas as he investigated the nearby corral. A breeze lifted my hair, brushing it against my cheek. I tucked it behind my ear. Caleb had stopped next to me, close enough that our arms nearly touched. Neither of us moved.
I could feel the heat of him, the steady presence, and the quiet calm that had carried me all the way here.
His gaze dropped briefly to where our arms almost brushed, then lifted back to my face. “You don’t have to hide here,” he said. “You’re safe.”
The words wrapped around something inside my chest that had been braced for so long it had forgotten how to rest. “I want to believe that.”
He nodded. “You take the bedroom. If I sleep at all, I’ll crash on the couch.”
That night, Caleb organized his foster brothers to surround the ranch. A few of them took turns pacing the perimeter. One manned the front gate. One took up a position near the cabin. Several more spread out over the ridge. They treated it like a security operation, and no one questioned his authority.
I stood on the porch watching them move through the dark like shadows. Lucas and I hadn’t just run to Caleb. We’d run into his family. For the first time in days, I let myself breathe.
Lucas fell asleep before his head hit the pillow, exhausted and safe.
Caleb joined me on the porch. The ranch stretched out under the stars, the land ancient and steady and unmovable.
“I didn’t know places like this still existed,” I said.
“It raised me,” he replied.
That told me everything I needed to know about him.
“You should be able to sleep well tonight, Marisol.” He nodded toward the door. “Go to bed. I’ll make sure nothing happens to you or your brother.”
I reached for his hands. Awareness shot up my arms like a wildfire spreading out of control. I knew what it felt like to be cradled in those strong arms, and I craved more. But that had been a mistake. My brother and I were a job to him, that was all.
“Thank you so much for bringing us here.” I gave his hands a squeeze then let go and turned to head inside.
“Goodnight, Marisol,” he whispered.
A simple thank you wasn’t enough, but it would have to do for now. I got undressed and slid under the covers. The cabin went quiet, but I couldn’t sleep. I stared at the ceiling, feeling the weight of everything I’d never let myself say to Caleb Stone. I could feel his presence on the other side of the bedroom door, remembering, wanting, pretending the line we crossed hadn’t changed everything.
Outside, men stood watch. Inside, I closed my eyes. For the first time since the danger found us, I tried to believe we might survive it.
CHAPTER 7
CALEB
I wokebefore the sun did, the way I always did when something mattered. The cabin was quiet in that deep-country way. Just the soft creak of old wood settling, the low chorus of insects outside, and the steady, even breathing coming from down the hall where Lucas slept.
The couch creaked as I got up to check on Marisol. She was curled on her side, her dark hair spilling across the pillow. One hand tucked under her cheek like she’d finally run out of fight. In the low light, she looked younger than she had any right to. Not because she was a kid, but because exhaustion had stripped her down to something bare and honest. There was no mask on her face in sleep. No grit. No stubbornness. No careful control. Just a woman who’d been holding up her whole world alone and had finally put it down long enough to rest.
I stood there for one more heartbeat and let myself sink into the memory of the warmth of her body, the heat of her mouth on mine, and the way she’d hung onto me like I was the only thing preventing her from drowning. I knew better than to let my mind wander, but it did anyway, sliding back into every sound she’d made, every time her nails dug into my shoulders,every moment I’d had to grit my teeth and hold myself back from giving her everything I wanted to give her.
Then reality came crashing in the way it always did. Lucas. The threat. The intercept attempt. The fact that we were on borrowed time.
I went back to the main room, pulled on jeans and boots, then stepped outside. The air hit my lungs clean and cool, carrying the smell of damp grass and horses and wood smoke from somewhere near the main house. The ranch spread out under the faint edge of dawn, shadowed pasture rolling into darker fence lines, a few barn lights glowing like steady eyes.
I hadn’t brought them here to hide. I’d brought them here because this land was mine in a way Valor Springs never would be. Not the property. Mama Mae owned the land, and she’d earned every inch of it. What I meant was the people. The eyes. The hands. The men who didn’t ask questions when I said, “I need you,” because they already knew what I meant.
A truck sat at the gate, idling low. I could see the silhouette of one of my brothers inside, his elbow hanging out the window, his head turning slow as he scanned the road.
