“Naomi.” Millie’s smile softened, but her eyes stayed sharp. “I’ve seen the way he looks at you. And I’ve definitely seen the way you look at him when you think no one’s watching.”
Heat crept up the back of Naomi’s neck.
She opened her mouth to respond—to say what, exactly, she wasn’t sure—but the words wouldn’t come.
Because Millie wasn’t wrong.
Naomi had noticed. Had felt it.
She’d noted the way Micah showed up without being asked. The way his hand had settled on her elbow outside, grounding her when Dale’s presence had made her feel like the ground was shifting. The way he looked at her sometimes—steady, patient, like he was willing to wait as long as it took for her to figure out whatever she needed to figure out.
And the way her chest tightened every time he was close.
She looked down at Grace, who was still eating contentedly, oblivious to the conversation happening above her.
But the question hung in the air between them, unanswered.
And Naomi wasn’t sure she had an answer to give.
Micah moved carefully through the woods, his eyes scanning the ground ahead for any sign of another trap.
Thunder and Hamilton ranged behind them—Wyatt and Caleb had both called the dogs back the moment they’d stepped through the gate. Better to keep them close. Better to be cautious.
“Any more trouble with the Hendersons?” Wyatt asked, his voice low.
Micah and Caleb exchanged a glance.
“Yeah,” Caleb said. “Travis hit Naomi’s SUV a few days ago on Hollow Ridge Road.”
Wyatt stopped walking. “He what? Why didn’t someone tell me?”
“Sorry—we’ve had a lot going on,” Caleb said.
“He came flying down a side road and clipped her rear bumper.” Micah kept his tone factual. “She saw him and accelerated just in time. Otherwise, he would’ve hit her door.”
Wyatt’s jaw tightened, his expression darkening. “Was she hurt?”
“Shaken,” Caleb said. “But physically fine.”
“And Travis?”
“Left the scene,” Micah said. “I caught up with him later. He claimed it was an accident. Said he stopped to check on her, but he didn’t have insurance and didn’t see any reason to stick around.”
Wyatt let out a sharp breath and shook his head. “I don’t like that. I don’t like any of this.” He started walking again, his strides harder now, angrier. “I don’t know what it’s going to take to get them off our backs. Their fixation with gettingthis property back—it’s not just stubbornness anymore. It’s an obsession.”
Micah nodded. He’d been thinking the same thing.
The Hendersons had never accepted losing the land. That much was clear from the beginning. But lately, something had shifted. Travis seemed to be escalating. Testing boundaries. Getting bolder.
And if Dale Harding was tied up with shady people, and the Hendersons were still circling this property like wolves?—
Micah didn’t like where that logic led. Both represented two separate threats—which meant double the trouble.
“We need to stay alert,” he said. “All of us. Until we know what we’re dealing with.”
Caleb nodded. “Agreed.”
They continued walking, the woods growing denser as they moved farther from the fence line. Thunder stayed behind them, his nose low as he worked methodically through the underbrush. Hamilton moved with Caleb, ears forward, body tense.
Then the crack of gunfire split the air.
