“Sure,” Rowan said.
“I should check the cattle in the south pasture,” Sierra said as they pulled out into the highway. “Make sure they have enough water.”
“Want company?” Rowan asked.
The simple offer made her chest warm. “I’d like that.”
Huck spent the rest of the drive talking about the upcoming festival and the other contestants and peppering Rowan with questions about his own rodeo wins.
Rowan had the patience of…well, she supposed a guy who spent hours hidden under a bush or something, watching for bad guys through a rifle scope. And that was her extent of Delta Force knowledge.
But the fact that he’d been some kind of special-ops soldier sort of hit her, watching him drive, sitting there with so much…well, strength. He’d grown into a big, solid, strong, beautiful man.
I never stopped loving you, Sierra.
Okay, so maybe Bailey was right. Time to tell him.
The house came into view, the cedar-shingled home with its soaring gables and wraparound porch looking like something from a Mountain Living magazine. Oh, she loved this house.
Seemed like it was time it had a family again.
They pulled up and she got out, Huck sliding out of the back seat.
Rowan came around the car. “Huck! Stop!”
Huck practically skidded to a stop in front of the step.
“Sierra.” Rowan’s voice had changed, gone sharp and alert. “Is your front door usually open?”
Sierra followed his gaze. The front door stood ajar, just a few inches. She would have missed it.
“No.” Cold flooded her veins. “I locked it before we left for church.”
Rowan’s entire demeanor shifted in an instant. The relaxed man who’d been teaching her son fancy handshakes vanished, replaced by someone harder, more focused. “Stay here, both of you.”
His voice turned her still. She reached for Huck and pulled him against herself.
Rowan’s eyes scanned the house, the yard, the tree line beyond. “Someone’s been here.”
“What’s wrong?” Huck said.
“Probably nothing, buddy,” Rowan said, his voice softening, just a little. “Just…stay with your mom.”
The door frame showed scratches around the lock. He stepped up the porch stairs, then eased the door open with his boot.
“Stay here,” Rowan said. “Do not come inside until I say it’s clear.”
“Rowan—”
“Sierra.” He turned to face her, and she saw something she’d never seen before—the soldier he’d become, the warrior who’d survived things she couldn’t imagine. “Trust me on this. Please.”
The word trust hit her like a physical blow. She nodded, pulling Huck closer.
Rowan disappeared into the house, moving with a silence that was somehow more frightening than noise would have been. Sierra strained to hear something—footsteps, voices, anything—but only silence echoed back.
Huck fidgeted beside her, and Sierra fought the urge to follow Rowan inside.
“Clear,” Rowan’s voice finally called from inside. “But you’re not going to like what you see.”
