Someone was following me.
My hand shook slightly as I pulled out my phone, keeping one eye on the road and one on my rearview mirror. I hit redial on Harlow's number, pressing the phone to my ear.
He answered on the first ring. "Dan? We're almost to town."
"I'm coming to you," I said, trying to keep my voice steady despite the adrenaline coursing through me. "I think I'm being followed. Tell me where to meet you."
There was a brief pause, then Harlow's voice came back, calm but urgent. "Old logging road off Highway 12. There's a turnoff about three miles past the Bridger property, marked by three big pines. Follow it until it forks, then take the left path. We'll be waiting at the clearing."
I knew the spot—isolated, with multiple escape routes, surrounded by dense forest. Good choice.
"I'm on my way," I said, checking my mirror again. The headlights were still there. "But Harlow—be careful. These people know about you, about us. They were watching at your farm earlier."
"You'll be okay, Dan," he promised, his deep voice unwavering. "I'll protect you."
Those simple words squeezed my heart like a vise. That's exactly what I was afraid of—Harlow putting himself in danger to protect me. I couldn't bear the thought of those gentle hands, the ones that had touched me with such tenderness just hours ago, being harmed because of my investigation.
I ended the call and made a series of quick turns, trying to lose my tail before heading toward the meeting point. The muscle in my jaw jumped rhythmically as I clenched my teeth, my knuckles white around the steering wheel. The car behindme stayed consistent—not aggressive, just... present. Watching. Following.
As I turned onto Highway 12, heading away from town toward the outskirts where the McKenzie property began, a terrible clarity settled over me. This was more than just an investigation now. By allowing myself to get close to Harlow, I'd created a vulnerability that could be exploited. I'd put him and his entire family at risk.
The memory of Harlow's face in the tack room, open and trusting as I'd shown him pleasure, made my chest ache with a physical pain. I'd never meant for this to happen—not falling for him, and certainly not dragging him into danger. But both had happened anyway, and now I had to face the consequences.
I checked my mirrors again. The headlights had fallen back, almost disappearing in the distance, but I knew they were still there. Still watching. Still following.
My breathing grew shallow as I approached the turnoff Harlow had described. Three tall pines stood sentinel at the entrance to the logging road, just visible in my headlights. I slowed but didn't signal—no need to telegraph my movements—before making the turn onto the unpaved road.
The truck bounced over ruts and potholes, the suspension groaning in protest. The dense forest closed in around me, branches reaching over the narrow track like grasping fingers. In my rearview mirror, the headlights had reappeared, distant but unmistakable, now turning onto the logging road behind me.
"Damn it," I hissed, pressing harder on the accelerator. The truck lurched forward, tires struggling for purchase on the uneven ground.
As I approached the fork in the road, time seemed to slow. Left would take me to Harlow, to safety, to the man who had somehow become my anchor in this storm. But it would also lead these people directly to him.
The realization hit me with absolute certainty: I couldn't do that. I couldn't lead this danger straight to the McKenzies' doorstep.
Without signaling, I jerked the wheel to the right instead of left at the fork, my decision made in a heartbeat of clarity. The truck fishtailed slightly on the loose gravel before straightening out.
In my mirror, the following headlights momentarily slowed at the fork, then turned right as well, confirming my suspicions. I needed to lead them away from Harlow, not toward him.
Even if it meant facing them alone.
My phone buzzed with a text—Harlow, no doubt wondering why I hadn't appeared at the meeting spot. I ignored it, focusing on the winding forest road ahead. Each mile I put between myself and the McKenzie clearing was another mile of safety for Harlow.
As the headlights behind me grew closer, more aggressive now that we were isolated on this remote track, I made a silent vow that settled in my chest with the weight of absolute certainty: I would not let anyone hurt Harlow McKenzie, even if it meant walking away from the best thing that had ever happened to me. Even if it meant facing these threats alone.
Some prices were too high to pay. Harlow's safety wasn't negotiable.
Chapter Fifteen
~ Harlow ~
I shifted my weight from one foot to the other, scanning the dark tree line for headlights that should have appeared five minutes ago. Something wasn't right. Dan should have been here by now.
The clearing where we waited was silent except for the soft murmur of Knox and Ransom talking strategy behind me, but all I could focus on was the empty logging road and the growing knot in my stomach that said Dan was in trouble.
"He should be here," I said, my voice coming out rougher than I meant it to. "It doesn't take this long from town."
Knox checked his watch, his face half-hidden in shadow. "Could be taking extra precautions if he's being followed."
