“In return, I signed a contract.” The admission felt like tearing something vital from her chest. “Twenty years of performances. I owe him until I’m thirty-five years old.” She looked up at James then, seeing her own horror reflected in his eyes. “He owns me, Jamie. Legally owns me.”
The silence that followed was deafening. James’s hand tightened on hers, and his jaw clenched. Something fierce and protective flashed across his features.
“A twenty-year contract?” His voice was barely controlled. “Rose, you were fifteen when your mother died. That’s—” He stopped himself, but she could see the word he didn’t say written in the hard line of his mouth. Horrible. She’d sold herself, and she was irretrievably horribly dirty.
“I was desperate. Mama was suffering, and the doctors said they could help her, but it cost so much.” Even now, the awful weight of it pressed down over her. Smothering.
“Rose.” James’s voice came out rough, laced with a barely contained fury. “That’s not a contract—that’s slavery.”
She flinched at the word. How it felt so right and yet… “It’s legal,” she said flatly. “Vincent made sure of that. And now he’s looking for me.” She turned away from him and stared out into the darkness. “He’s not going to let me walk away. He has too much invested in me, and he’s not a man who accepts losing what he considers his property. He has connections everywhere. Men who owe him favors, who’ll do what he asks without question.”
“Then we’ll make sure he doesn’t find you.” James’s voice carried a quiet determination that called to her heart. “Rose, listen to me. Whatever papers you signed, they can’t be binding. You were a child, desperate and grieving. No court would uphold such a thing.”
Rose shook her head, desperation clawing at her throat. “You don’t understand. He has money, influence. He could bring the law down on all of you for harboring me. I won’t let that happen.”
“The law?” James straightened, his voice dropping to an urgent whisper. “Rose, it’s not right, and no judge will allow it.”
“You think Vincent cares about what’s right?” The words came out too loud. Too high-pitched. “He cares about what’s profitable. And I’m profitable, James. Very profitable.” She wrapped her arms tighter around herself, shield against hope. “He’ll find me. He’ll make sure everyone believes he’s right.”
The sound of laughter drifted from the dining room, warm and oblivious to the nightmare unfolding here on the porch. The easy comfort of family life she’d tasted for barely a day was now already slipping away.
“I shouldn’t have come here to begin with. I’ll go pack my things.” She turned toward the door.
“No.” James’s hand closed around her wrist. “Rose, you’re not going anywhere. Not tonight, not until we figure this out together. And by the way, the two-week trial we agreed to doesn’t count anymore. I won’t let you leave if you’ll be in danger. We’ll protect you, figure this out together. But you’re not going anywhere until it’s safe.”
The warmth of his touch pulled at the deepest parts of her, and she couldn’t stop herself from looking up into his eyes—that familiar green gaze that had once been her anchor in a world that felt too big and frightening outside of the haven of this ranch.
But she wasn’t a child anymore, and the world had proven itself far more dangerous than either of them had imagined all those years ago.
“You don’t understand what you’re asking.” She forced strength into her voice. “If Vincent finds me here, if he brings the authorities?—”
“Then we’ll deal with it.” His thumb brushed across her knuckles, the gesture so gentle it nearly tore down the rest of her determination. “Rose, you’re not alone anymore. You have family here. People who care about what happens to you.”
Family. The word stirred something deep in her chest that had died so long ago. She’d forgotten what it felt like to have someone stand between her and the world’s cruelties, to have someone willing to fight for her simply because she mattered to them.
“You said Vincent has connections everywhere. Men who do his bidding.” James spoke with a power that vibrated through her. “But he doesn’t have connections here. Not in these mountains. This ranch is five miles from the nearest neighbor, and every man in Walnut Springs has known my family for nearly twenty years. They won’t betray us to some stranger from Virginia City, no matter how much money he waves around.”
“You can’t know that?—”
“I can.” The nob at his throat worked. “And I can promise you that everyone on this ranch will protect you with our lives. Besides.” His voice gentled. “Winter’s coming. Even if Vincent does narrow down his search, the mountain passes will be snowed in within weeks. No one’s going to be traveling these roads until spring. By then, we can have the details worked out to make that contract null and void. You won’t have to worry about Vincent another minute.”
She took in a breath, and for the first time in years, the air felt laced with something like hope. Could that really be possible?
The urge to tell him more pressed through her, and she spoke before her own fears forced her to stop. “I used to pray. When Vincent first took us to Virginia City. I prayed every day for someone to find us. For God to rescue us.” She looked down at her hands. “But no one ever came. After a while, I stopped praying. It seemed…pointless.”
James was quiet for a long moment. And when he spoke, his voice came rough. “I prayed for you too. Every night after you disappeared. I asked God to keep you safe, to bring you home somehow.” His mouth formed a gentle curve. “I didn’t know if those prayers reached heaven. But Rose—you’re here now. You survived. Maybe God was answering all along, just not in the way either of us expected.”
She wanted to believe that. Wanted to believe her suffering had meant something, that God hadn’t abandoned her in Virginia City. “But if God was protecting me,” she whispered, “why did it take so long?”
“I don’t know.” He drew a slow breath. “I don’t have answers, Rose. But I know God can redeem even the years that were stolen. I have to believe that, or missing you all this time would have drowned me.”
The silence that settled between them felt different now—not empty, but full of something fragile. She let herself lean into it. Maybe James was right. Maybe God hadn’t abandoned her after all.
His hand found hers in the darkness, his calloused fingers warm against her cold ones. “We’ll figure this out together,” he said quietly. “The contract, Vincent—all of it. Robert has a good head for legal details. We can get him started on it tonight. If you’re up for that.”
She stared up at him, searching his face in the lamplight for any sign that this was too good to be true. But his expression held only steady determination and something deeper—a fierce protectiveness that made her chest ache. Maybe if Vincent never found her, she would never have to tell him the rest. Maybe she could simply be part of the family like Bea.
“You really think Robert could help?” Her voice came out small, tentative.
