“That… that was thoughtful of him.”
“Yeah, he pretends he’s all rough around the edges, but the man’s got more heart than he knows what to do with.”
Lucy’s nails click softly across the wood floor as she wanders deeper inside, sniffing everything she can before returning and settling at my feet. I glance down at her, and she lifts her head, tail sweeping the floor as she looks up at me.
“Guess she’s decided where she’s sleepin’ tonight,” Beau says, leaning against the doorframe. That easy warmth radiating off of him in waves.
I crouch to run my fingers through Lucy’s fur, her red-and-white coat soft beneath my touch. “You sure that’s okay?”
“‘Course it is,” he answers. “She’s good company, and she’ll let us know if somethin’ ain’t right.” He gives Lucy an affectionate pat on the head before looking back at me. “You get some rest and come over to the main house tomorrow whenever you’re ready. If you can’t find us there, one of us will be in the barn.”
“Okay,” I answer softly.
“You’re safe here, alright? We promise.”
The promise lands heavier than he probably means it to. Because that word,safe, well, it’s been a long time since anyone or anywhere has made that true.
“Thank you, Beau.”
He offers me one last soft smile before slipping out into the night, closing and locking the door behind him.
For a moment, I just stand there, in the middle of my new home. The silence feels different here. Almost… alive. The crickets outside, the distant sound of horses whinnying in the barn, the soft breath of the dog now stretched out on the rug in the living room like she owns the place. It feels right.
I exhale slowly, my shoulders sagging under the weight of the last forty-eight hours. When I finally wander into the bedroom, I stop in the doorway. The space is small but inviting, the white linens covering the bed practically calling my name. There’s a window that looks out toward the main house, its porch light still shining through the dark. Constant. Never wavering.
The memory of Lawson’s voice drifts back to the forefront of my consciousness. The way he’d talked about his cattle like they were more than just animals. Like they were a responsibility. A promise.
Everything about him was unnerving. There was no question about it. Something about the way he was looking at me, like he could see through my carefully crafted facade and straight to the very core of who I was. But there was a comfort in him, too, buried deep beneath all of that quiet command. There was a steadiness to him. An ease that was drawing me in.
Shaking the thoughts away, I change into one of the oversized T-shirts Joe packed for me and place my clothes from today into the laundry hamper. I know I should shower, but I suddenly feel like I have barely enough energy to keep my head up for one more moment.
Not showering before bed is one thing, but I draw the line at not brushing my teeth. So, I quickly run to the bathroom, not even bothering to look around, brush my teeth, throw my hair in a braid, and make my way back into the bedroom.
Lucy hops up beside me without hesitation, curling against my side like she’s done this a hundred times. “Guess it’s just you and me tonight, pretty girl,” I whisper, running my hand down her back. She releases a contented sigh that fills the small space with warmth.
I shoot one last text to Joe, letting her and the guys know I made it and set my new phone on the nightstand. Lying back, I stare at the faint light still glowing from the porch until my eyes grow heavy. Beau’s promise ringing in my ears.
I’m safe here.
But even as sleep pulls at me, the image that lingers behind my eyelids isn’t the visions of what tomorrow brings. It’s them. Beau and Lawson. The men I met today and the weight behind everything they’ve already done for me. Everything they’ve said.
We owe them freedom. Right up until their very last breath.
Freedom.
It’s the last word that rolls around my head before I finally drift off to sleep.
Chapter six
Abigail
Thesunlightisalreadyslipping through the small crack in the curtains when I finally blink awake. For a few disoriented seconds, I don’t know where I am. The air feels too clean, too soft, and the bed beneath me is far too comfortable. Then everything from the last few days comes crashing back in rapid succession. For the first time in what feels like forever, I’ve slept through the night. Despite the new bed, the new sounds, the newlife,I felt safe enough to just sleep. There were no strange noises, no worries of men trying to get in my room in the middle of the night, no nightmares plaguing my dreams every time I shut my eyes.
Just quiet.
A peaceful, healing quiet.
Somewhere outside, I can hear the sound of horse hooves against gravel, the low voices of men talking to one another as they work, the clanking of metal, and what I’m assuming is the groan of cattle. And the idea that, despite everything that’s happening beyond the fenceline of this ranch, despite everything that’s happened to me, the world here doesn’t stop. It has a pulsethat you can count on. Day in and day out. The notion is oddly comforting.
