"Yeah." Just thinking about Frank makes my chest ache. "He was more of a father to me than my actual father ever was. Took me in when I was fourteen, gave me a place to belong. Did the same for my brother and the other four guys."
"That's incredible," Harper says softly. "Not many people would do that."
"No, not many would." I point ahead to a large oak tree on the corner. "See that tree? Broke my head on it once."
She stops walking, staring at the tree. "How do you break your head on a tree?"
"Was riding my bike when I was younger. Maybe fifteen or sixteen. Going way too fast, showing off for some girl whose name I can't even remember now. Didn't see the turn coming, went straight into the wall next to the tree." I gesture to the brick wall bordering someone's property. "Knocked myself out cold. Woke up with Boone standing over me looking like he was gonna cry."
"Oh my God." But she's smiling, probably picturing teenage me being an idiot. "Did you learn your lesson about showing off?"
"Absolutely not," I say honestly. "Pretty sure I was back on the bike the next week doing the same stupid shit."
She laughs, and the sound does something to me. Makes me want to keep talking, keep telling her stories, just to hear that laugh again.
We pass the library, the small park with the ancient playground equipment that's probably a safety hazard but nobody's bothered to replace. Each building has a story, a memory, something that makes this town feel like home.
"How long have you lived here?" Harper asks.
"My whole life," I tell her. "Born and raised in Blackwater Falls. Never really left except for the occasional trip to other towns for supplies or cattle stuff."
"Never?" She sounds surprised. "Not even to see what else is out there?"
"I thought about college once," I admit. "Right after high school. Everyone was talking about where they were applying, what they wanted to study. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized there's nothing I'd want to learn that I can't just learn online or from experience. And I couldn't picture leaving the ranch. Leaving this life."
"So, you just... stayed?"
"Yeah." I squeeze her hand. "I love ranch life, Harper. Love working in the field, getting my hands dirty, being outside all day. Love working with the animals, seeing the results of what we build. There's something satisfying about physical work, about creating something real instead of sitting in an office somewhere pushing papers."
She's quiet for a moment, processing this. "I think that's beautiful," she says finally. "Knowing where you belong. Being satisfied with what you have instead of always chasing something more."
"You sound like you've been chasing something more."
"Maybe I have been." She squeezes my hand back. "Maybe that's part of what I'm running from. The constant feeling that nothing was ever enough."
I want to ask more. I want to know what wasn't enough, who made her feel like she had to keep chasing, but before I can, we round the corner and the burger place comes into view.
Murphy's Grill is a hole-in-the-wall joint that's been here longer than I have. The sign is faded, the paint is peeling, and the whole place looks like it should have been condemned years ago. But the food is incredible and Old Man Murphy doesn't give a shit about appearances.
"This is your secret place?" Harper asks, eyeing the building.
"Trust me."
We're almost to the door when I notice them: two motorcycles parked out front, gleaming chrome and black leather. And more specifically, the cuts the riders are wearing when I glance through the window.
Savage Riders MC.
I feel Harper tense beside me, her hand tightening in mine. She's seen them too, probably seen the skull logo, and she's doing the math that motorcycles plus leather plus skulls equals danger.
"Colt," she whispers. "Maybe we should go somewhere else."
"It's fine," I assure her, though I understand her concern. The Savage Riders have a reputation, and not always a good one.
"They're in a motorcycle club," she hisses, like I might not have noticed. "With skulls on their jackets."
"Yeah, they're an MC," I acknowledge, stopping just outside the door. "But they're also the town's protectors, in a weird way. They handle things the sheriff can't or won't. Keep the real trouble out of Blackwater Falls."
"That doesn't sound legal."
