“Seems like you and Walker have the same kind of love, though.” She’d watched them together in the weeks she’d been at the ranch, and Walker—that grizzled old cowboy—worshiped the ground Johanna walked on.
“Yes, now we do, but it took us far too long to figure it out. We wasted a lot of time dancing around each other.” She slid Maggie a sideways glance as she unbuckled and pushed open the driver’s side door. “Don’t waste time, Maggie. If you want him, just tell him. Don’t make him guess.”
Maggie’s face warmed. She wasn’t surprised that Johanna had picked up on her feelings for Anson, but having it laid out so directly was another matter. “It’s complicated.”
“It always is.” Johanna climbed out of the truck. “Now come on. Let’s get you geared up for a Montana winter.”
Maggie’s phone rang just as they reached the hardware store’s front door. Ghost. Her stomach instantly wrapped itself in knots. He wouldn’t call unless it was important. Or bad. Or both.
“Hello?”
“Landry Whitaker was spotted at a gas station in Ogallala, Nebraska, yesterday morning.” His voice was clipped, straight to business. “Credit card receipts confirm.”
The world tilted, the snowy parking lot suddenly too bright, too exposed. “Is Ogallala closer than Lincoln?”
“Yes.” A pause. “Could mean nothing. He has family in the area, according to our research.”
“But you don’t think so. He’s heading west.” Her voice came from somewhere far away. “Toward me.”
“We don’t know that for certain.” Ghost’s tone stayed flat, and she appreciated it. The lack of anger, panic, or urgency in his voice steadied her. “But I wanted you informed. Naomi’s reaching out to her contacts in Nebraska law enforcement to get more details, and we’ll continue monitoring his credit cards and phone. He’s not getting onto Valor Ridge property without us knowing.”
“Thank you.” She ended the call and stared at the blank screen, willing her breathing to steady.
“Bad news?” Johanna asked quietly.
She swallowed hard and pocketed the phone. “It was Ghost. Landry is heading west. Maybe just visiting family, but...”
“But you don’t think so.”
“No.”
“And neither does Ghost.”
“No.” She looked up, meeting Johanna’s clear, assessing gaze. “He’s looking for me.”
Johanna didn’t offer empty reassurances or dismissals. She simply asked, “Do you want to go back to the ranch?”
The offer was tempting.
Valor Ridge meant safety.
The forge.
The kittens.
Bramble.
Anson.
But it also meant surrendering to fear again, letting Landry dictate her movements without even being present. If she went back now, how would she cope on Wednesday when she was scheduled to teach at Haven House?
“No.” She squared her shoulders, though her hands still trembled. “I need winter clothes if I’m staying in Montana, which I am. I’m not running again.”
“You sure? We can come back another day.”
“I’m sure. I spent years looking over my shoulder and changing my routine. I’m done with that.”
Johanna studied her for a long moment, then nodded. “For what it’s worth, I think you’re making the right call. Running just teaches your brain that the only way to be safe is to keep running.”
