“Paperwork is being processed now,” Lennon says, giving my arm a reassuring squeeze. “Could be fifteen minutes, could be an hour. You know how bureaucracy works.”
I don’t really know, but I nod, trying to keep my anxiety in check.
“Did you see him? Is he okay?” The questions tumble out before I can stop them.
Lennon’s expression changes, a flicker of anger crossing her face. “Noah roughed him up a bit. Split his lip.”
My stomach drops. “What? What a fucking asshole.”
“Don’t worry. We’re documenting everything. It’s all going to work in our favor when we file the harassment suit.”
“I don’t care about the lawsuit,” I say, my voice rising. “I care about Devlin being hurt!”
She sighs, running a hand through her hair. “I know, sis. I know. But he’s tough, you know that, and he’s more worried about you than anything else.”
That doesn’t surprise me. Even now, even when he’s the one in trouble, his concern is for me. It’s just who he is.
I lean back against my SUV, trying to calm my racing heart. The parking lot of the county jail is nearly empty, just a few official vehicles and Lennon’s car beside mine. The coming winter air is crisp, carrying the scent of pine from the surrounding forest. It would be peaceful if not for the circumstances.
“How are you holding up?” Lennon asks, studying my face. “You look pale.”
“I’m fine,” I say automatically, then catch myself. This is Lennon. I don’t have to pretend with her. “Actually, I’m terrified. What if they don’t let him out? What if Noah finds some way to keep him locked up?”
“That’s not going to happen,” Lennon assures me firmly. “Shawn’s one of the best attorneys in the state, and JudgeHolloway isn’t in Morrison’s pocket. The system doesn’t always work, but today, it’s working in our favor. She already told them to release the guys. It just takes a while for the wheels of justice to turn.”
I want to believe her. I need to believe her. “And the rustling charges? What if they stick?”
She shakes her head. “Like I said, the evidence is circumstantial at best. They’ve got some grainy video footage and Morrison’s word, which isn’t worth much once people find out what he’s been planning with Project Watershed.”
“What exactly is Project Watershed?” I ask. It’s been mentioned before, but no one has really explained it to me.
“It’s a land grab,” Lennon says, her expression hardening. “The Morrisons are trying to buy up all the land around the river and its tributaries. Once they control the water rights, they can charge whatever they want for access. They’d essentially control who gets to ranch in Grizzly River.”
“And that’s legal?”
“It’s in a gray area,” she admits. “But that’s not the point. The point is, once the other ranchers understand what’s at stake, they’ll see Devlin and the others as the ones fighting back against corporate greed, not as criminals.”
Before I can respond, the jail doors swing open, and my heart leaps into my throat. Jesse emerges first, followed by Truett and Carson. Then there he is, Devlin, his broad shoulders filling out a plain white T-shirt that’s clearly not his own. Even from here, I can see the angry red mark on his face where Noah struck him. It looks like they gave him clothes because he may have gotten blood on his.
I don’t think, don’t hesitate. I’m running before I realize I’ve pushed off from the SUV, my feet carrying me across the parking lot, dodging a patrol car that’s pulling in.
“Devlin!” I call out, and his head snaps up, his eyes finding mine.
Something in his face changes when he sees me, the hard lines softening, the tension in his jaw easing. He takes a few steps forward, opening his arms just as I launch myself at him.
His arms close around me, solid and warm and real, lifting me slightly off the ground as I bury my face in his neck, breathing in his scent. He smells like cheap soap and something distinctly him beneath it, and I’ve never been so grateful for anything in my life.
“You’re okay,” I whisper against his skin, my voice choked with emotion. “You’re really okay.”
“I’m okay,” he confirms, his lips brushing my temple. “Everything’s going to be fine, Atlee. I promise.”
I pull back just enough to examine his face, my fingers ghosting over the split in his lip and the bruise forming on his cheekbone. “He hurt you.”
A small, dangerous smile curves his mouth. “Trust me, it was worth it. Played right into our hands.”
I want to argue that nothing is worth his being hurt, but this isn’t the time or place. “Let’s go home,” I say instead. “I want to get you away from here.”
He nods, keeping one arm around me as we walk toward my SUV. Jesse calls out something about meeting tomorrow, and Devlin raises a hand in acknowledgment, but his focus remains on me.
