They approached the front porch with glee, as if visiting an old friend. The two wooden rocking chairs sat side by side, facing outward toward the gravel drive and the endless prairie beyond. But that arrangement was all wrong. Too formal. Too distant.
Working quickly, they repositioned the chairs to face each other, creating an intimate conversation area. Yes, this was better. This was how it should be when they finally sat together, and when Rose understood that all the waiting had been worthwhile. The chairs would hold their quiet conversations about her writing, her dreams, her future. Their future.
Moving around the perimeter of the house, they peered through windows. The bedroom blinds were drawn tight, which was disappointing but expected. But her office window revealed everything.
The room where the magic happened. Where Rose created the characters and stories that enthralled. Bookshelves lined the walls, filled with research materials and dog-eared novels. Her desk faced the window, probably so she could look out at the prairie when searching for inspiration. They imagined sitting in the corner chair, watching her work, offering suggestions and encouragement.
They so wanted to be part of her creative process. More than just part of it—essential to it.
From the pocket of their jacket, they withdrew a small velvet bag filled with rose petals. The symbolism was perfect for beauty and romance shadowed by longing. They scattered the petals carefully underneath the window, creating a trail that could be discovered but not immediately understood.
The return trip to the SUV required the same careful attention to timing and concealment. By the time they reached the grocery store, Rose would be emerging with her weekly supplies, unaware that her sanctuary had been visited by someone who longed to be closer.
I see you, my sweet Rose, they thought as they watched her look around as though she could sense their eyes on her. She felt our connection. The temptation to continue surveillance was strong, but their patience remained paramount.
They turned off at the next intersection, watching her taillights disappear. Not yet. She needed more time to discover the signs, to understand that someone was thinking of her and caring for her.
The roses would tell her everything she needed to know when she was ready to listen.
6
The early morning text from Logan had been brief but clear:Compound. 0800. Pack for a week.Casper had learned not to question the terse communications from his boss. Just like in the military, when the leader said to jump, the only appropriate response was to ask, "How high?" It didn’t take long for him to pack, considering he kept his duffel ready to go.
Then another message came through.Include a suit.
Casper blinked, reading the three words again.What the fuck?He looked at the suit in his closet, last worn at a Keeper’s wedding.Well, that won’t pack well in my duffel.Using the same Army roll method he used for his dress uniforms when in the military, he quickly finished the task.
The Montana air was crisp with the promise of an oncoming winter as Casper left the bunkhouse. Cole and Timothy, neither carrying a bag, walked alongside him. Several vehicles were already parked outside the main building. Frazier was climbing from his pickup truck, a travel mug of coffee in one hand and a duffel bag slung over his shoulder. Casper knew Frazier was heading to Canada and wondered if Logan needed to send him along as well.
"Morning, Mary," Casper said as they all filtered through the reception area where her wheelchair was positioned behind the desk.
"Good morning, gentlemen," she replied with her characteristic warm smile. "Logan's waiting for you in the main conference room. Coffee's fresh if you need it. And I brought in bagels.”
“Strawberry cream cheese?” Timothy asked.
She laughed and nodded. “Of course.”
"Bless you, Mary," Timothy muttered as Casper chuckled. Timothy was known for having a sweet tooth, dunking more cream and sugar into his coffee than any other Keeper.
As soon as they made their way through the security checkpoints to enter the main working space of the compound, they all made a beeline for the industrial-sized coffee maker that had become the compound's unofficial lifeline.
The conference room buzzed with quiet energy as the Keepers filed in. Todd and Sadie were already seated at the long table, heads bent together over a tablet that displayed what looked like surveillance photos. Dalton sat across from them, methodically cleaning his glasses while studying a printed report. The organized chaos of a team preparing for a mission filled the space with focused tension.
Logan walked in and stood at the head of the table, his commanding presence immediately drawing everyone's attention as they settled into their seats. His expression was that of a leader who had a job to do and confidence in his people to do it well.
"Good morning," Logan began without preamble. "We have a situation that needs immediate attention. Yesterday evening, I received a call from Leo Parker, one of Carson Dyer's Keepers with LSI's West Coast branch. They're down two Keepers due toa flu outbreak, and Leo's wife is about to give birth any day, so they couldn't handle this personally."
Logan activated the wall-mounted screen, and a professional headshot appeared. The woman had pale blond hair and striking blue eyes that seemed to hold both strength and vulnerability.
"Willow Thorton," several of the Keepers muttered with various degrees of interest and surprise.
"Oh wow… she is so talented," Sadie said immediately, leaning forward with interest. "She won the Oscar for that amazing screenplay adaptation a few years back. Brilliant work."
"She was Rose onRiverside High," Todd added with a slight grin. "My sister was obsessed with that show when we were teenagers."
"Wait, that's Willow Thorton?" Dalton looked up from his report with surprise. "I thought she'd completely disappeared from Hollywood."
Casper glanced around the table, noting the recognition in everyone's faces. He felt like he was missing something important, but pop culture had never been his strong suit. Between military deployments and his preference for solitude, he'd managed to miss most of the entertainment world's major players.
