"Yeah. Showed up at Frank's door one night after a particularly bad beating. My mom had kicked my father out temporarily, but I knew he'd be back. Knew it wasn't safe. Frank took one look at me—black eye, split lip, bruises all over, and just opened his door. Said I could stay as long as I needed. Work on the ranch to earn my keep."
"He sounds like an amazing man."
"He was." Mason's voice cracks slightly. "He saved all six of us. Wade, Tucker, Rhett, Boone, Colt, and me. We all came from fucked up situations, all needed somewhere to belong. Frank gave us that. Gave us a family when we had nothing."
The pieces are fully assembled now. Six broken boys who became brothers. A ranch that's not just property but a legacy of love and second chances. Men who help strangers because they remember what it's like to need help and have nowhere to turn.
"That's why you helped me," I say, understanding flooding through me. "Last night, when you found me in the parking lot. It wasn't just about Rosie being cold. It was because you've been there. You've been the person with nowhere to go and nobody to help."
"Yeah." Mason's eyes meet mine again, "I remember what that feels like. The desperation. The fear. The exhaustion of just trying to survive day after day. If someone had offered me shelter back then, no strings attached, it would've changed everything."
"So, you're paying it forward."
"Something like that." He manages a small, sad smile. "Frank taught us that. Help people who need it. Don't ask for anything in return. Just make the world a little less shitty, one person at a time."
Sweat is pouring down my face now. My cardigan is completely soaked, clinging to my body in uncomfortable ways. Mason's henley is dark with sweat, his hair damp, his face flushed from the heat. But neither of us suggests stopping. Neither of us wants to break this moment.
"Do you still have nightmares?" I ask.
"Sometimes." His honesty is brutal and beautiful. "Not as often as I used to. But yeah, they still happen. Probably always will."
"What do you do when they happen?"
"Usually? Grab my phone, text one of my brothers. They know. They understand. Sometimes one of them will come over, just sit with me until I calm down. Other times I just need to know I'm not alone, that there are people who give a shit whether I make it through the night."
This strong, capable man who can fix anything, who handles horses like they're extensions of himself, who offered me shelter without hesitation... He still needs people. Still needs support. Still struggles with demons that won't let him go.
"Last night," Mason adds, "when I let you stay at the cottage? I didn't have any nightmares. Slept straight through for the first time in weeks."
"Maybe it's because you did something good," I suggest, my voice barely above a whisper. "Helped someone who needed it. Your mind finally let you rest because you'd done what Frank taught you."
"Maybe." But the way he's looking at me suggests he thinks it's something else entirely. Something to do with me specifically, not just the act of helping. "Or maybe it's just you."
Chapter 8 - Mason
I have no idea what the fuck I'm doing, but at least I'm being frontal and honest.
No more holding back. No more burying my feelings so deep they never see the light of day. I already poured my heart out about my past: about my father, my mother, the military, the nightmares that still wake me up screaming. Might as well go all the way. Might as well tell her the truth about why I slept through the night for the first time in weeks, why I can't seem to stop thinking about her.
"What do you mean by 'just me'?" Lily's voice is cautious like she's afraid of the answer.
I stumble over my words, trying to figure out how to say this without sounding like a creep or making her feel pressured. "I mean... since you're staying in Blackwater Falls, maybe we could see each other often. Maybe even go on a date, if that's something you'd be interested in."
Her eyes widen, lips parting in surprise.
Fuck. I'm doing this all wrong. Making it sound like she owes me something, like the shelter and the food and the job recommendation come with strings attached after all.
"But I don't want to pressure you," I add quickly, the words tumbling out too fast. "I don't want you to feel like you owe me anything. You don't. The cottage, the food, the help with Sarah… None of that has conditions. Either you want to go out with me, or you don't. And I'll respect your decision either way."
Lily's speechless. She opens her mouth, but nothing comes out. Just stares at me with those wide green eyes, her face flushedfrom the heat and maybe from something else. Fear? Attraction? I can't tell.
I have no idea if she's too afraid to say no, worried I'll rescind my help if she rejects me. Or if she's too shy to say yes, uncertain whether this is real or just another man trying to use her.
Either way, we're both clearly distracted. Too focused on each other, on this fragile moment balanced between us. I'm not paying attention to Daisy anymore, my grip on the lead rope loosening without me realizing it. And Lily's hands have gone slack on the saddle horn, her body language no longer communicating calm to the horse.
Daisy feels the change. Feels the sudden lack of direction, the tension crackling in the air between Lily and me. Her ears flick back, and she shifts her weight, growing restless.
I should notice. Should see the warning signs. But I'm too busy staring at Lily, waiting for her answer, my heart pounding in my chest like I'm back in combat waiting for enemy fire.
