“He’s at the ranch,” Jake explained. “Said he needed to check the perimeter, make sure everything was secure before you arrived.”
I nodded, unsurprised. Mikhail had always been meticulous about security, a habit born from growing up in the Russian mob.
Nora snuggled closer to me, her small fingers playing with the zipper of my coat. “Mom, is Mr. Mikhail going to stay with us at Jake’s ranch?”
The innocent question made my stomach clench. I glanced at Jake, who kept his eyes fixed on the road ahead, giving me space to answer.
“For a little while,” I said carefully. “There are some things we need to take care of.”
She nodded, accepting this without question. “I like him. He knows lots of cool stories about Russia. And he has the same eyes as me.”
My heart stuttered in my chest. Of course, she would notice—she was too observant not to. I caught Jake’s gaze in the mirror, saw the understanding there. The conversation couldn’t wait much longer.
“Nora,” I began, stroking her hair. “When we get to the ranch, there’s something important I need to talk to you about.”
She looked up at me, curiosity in her eyes. “What is it?”
“It’s about Mr. Mikhail,” I said, choosing my words carefully. “And about your father.”
Her eyes widened slightly, but she didn’t say a word.
I nodded, my throat tight. “Yes, sweetie. That’s part of what we need to talk about.”
She was quiet for a moment, processing this. “Is it a sad talk?”
I thought about it, then shook my head. “No, not sad. Just... different than what you’ve known before.”
This seemed to satisfy her for now. She settled back against me, returning to her examination of my coat zipper. “Okay. But can I have hot chocolate during the talk? Serious talks are always better with hot chocolate.”
Despite everything, I laughed. “Yes, you can definitely have hot chocolate.”
Chapter 18
Jake
The drive to my ranch took us through the heart of Pinecrest, past the bakery and the town square. Everything looked so normal, so unchanged—as if the world hadn’t nearly ended for Ella a few days ago.
We turned onto the long driveway leading to my property, and I felt a strange mix of apprehension and relief. The ranch house came into view, solid and welcoming against the backdrop of snow-covered mountains. Several vehicles were parked in front—that I recognized as the MacGallan’s, and a sleek black SUV I didn’t recognize.
“That’s a lot of people,” I said as Declan parked.
He shrugged. “Word travels fast in this family. Everyone wanted to help.”
I nodded, scanning the vehicles. “I only see one missing.” I didn’t want to say Mikhail’s name in front of Nora, not before Ella had a chance to talk to her.
“He’s around back,” Declan said quietly. “Checking things out.”
Nora bounced in her seat, eager to get out. “Can we go in now? I’m hungry.”
I helped Ella from the truck, noticing how she leaned on me more than she wanted to admit. The doctor had warned us she’d be weak for a few days, her body still recovering from the trauma.
“Easy,” I murmured, my arm steady around her waist. “No rush.”
The front door opened before we reached it, and Rory stepped out, his massive frame filling the doorway. “Welcome home,” he said, his eyes warm as they settled on Ella. “Got the fire going and soup on the stove.”
“Thank you,” Ella said, her voice still raspy. “For everything.”
Inside, the house was warmer than I usually kept it, the fire crackling in the stone hearth. The scent of homemade soup filled the air, and for a moment I was struck by how different the place felt—lived-in, like a real home.
