The two men regarded each other with wary familiarity, and I wondered how well they knew each other. Then the sheriff’s gaze landed on me, and his expression softened.
“Jacqueline.” He pulled me into a warm, fatherly hug, the kind he’d given me since I was a little girl tagging along after his daughter. “You okay?”
I nodded against his uniform shirt. “Yeah, I’m okay.”
Behind me, I heard a low, rumbling growl from Stryker. Instead of being irritated, butterflies swarmed in my belly at the sound. When Bex’s dad released me, he shot Stryker a warning glare, but he just stared back, completely unfazed.
Shaking his head, the sheriff turned his attention to the track loader that didn’t belong in my barn, and then to the three men on the ground. He crossed his arms over his chest and let out a low whistle. “Been waiting a long time to catch something solid on Wade’s crew.”
Stryker looked at the blond guy on the ground with narrowed eyes. “Wade Kessler is dirty, and you didn’t let me know?”
Bex’s dad shrugged. “The shit he’s into hasn’t impacted the Black Crowns since you’ve never hired his company, and he’s smart enough not to fuck with anything you own.”
“You know I like to be aware of what’s happening in my town,” Stryker growled.
“I do.” The sheriff tapped the badge pinned to his shirt. “But I didn’t have anything solid enough to make an arrest.”
“Now you do.” Stryker jerked his chin toward the men the deputies were tugging off the ground. “But it might’ve been sooner if you had brought us in.”
The sheriff quickly explained the local theft ring while his deputies cuffed the men. They targeted equipment, trailers, ATVs, expensive tools—anything valuable that could be moved fast. They’d strip decals and tracking devices, alter serial numbers and plates, then haul everything out of the area to private buyers, using Kessler Hauling & Recovery as the perfect cover.
“Looks like they already started on the identification plates here,” Bex’s dad noted, crouching to inspect the loader. “Altered serials will slow us down, but we’ve got them on trespassing and attempted assault at the very least.”
I shivered a little, and Stryker stepped closer to me. “The charges better stick.”
“That’s Trent Kessler, Wade’s son. He’s not going to be happy.” The sheriff tipped his chin at the blond guy being loaded into the back of a squad car before warning, “Odds are he’ll push for bail, and he’ll be able to pay it.”
My shoulders slumped as I realized the danger hadn’t passed with their arrests. Stryker leaned in, his breath hot against my ear as he promised, “Nobody is gonna hurt you.”
Approval gleamed in the sheriff’s eyes, and it made me think the unspoken truce between him and the Black Crowns went even deeper than I realized. He hadn’t even asked about the man whose arm was bent at a painful angle. And Stryker never offered an explanation.
“They’re not going to scare me off this ranch, either,” I muttered, crossing my arms over my chest with a slight wince. “And I’m not selling to that Brogan Rourke guy. My grandpa left it to me because he knew I’d be able to make my dream come true out here on land that’s been in my family for generations.”
Judge coughed, but it almost sounded like he was trying to cover a laugh.
“What’s your dream?” Stryker asked, drawing my attention back to him.
My voice came out softer than I wanted as I explained, “I’m going to offer horse rehabilitation and boarding on part of the ranch. The zoning allows for it already, and I have plenty of acreage.”
Judge nodded, his expression thoughtful as he began, “About the acreage?—”
“Drop it,” Stryker cut in firmly, his deep voice leaving no room for argument.
I blinked, glancing between the men. “Drop what?”
Stryker’s steel-gray eyes locked onto mine. “Nothing you need to worry about.”
My eyes narrowed. “Why do I feel like I’m missing something important here?”
A muscle jumped in his stubble-covered jaw. “I’m Brogan Rourke, Jacqueline.”
I gasped, unsure how to respond to the verbal bomb he’d just lobbed.
Before I could come up with any words, he spoke again.
“I’m not going to talk you into selling. We wanted the land because we didn’t want a stranger living this close to the compound. That would be a major security concern. Especially if it was a developer.” I opened my mouth, but he shook his head and forged on. “You’re not a stranger. You care about the land, and you’re smart enough to work with us on the parts that affect security.”
Before I could fully process that statement, he turned to one of the men whose name I hadn’t caught yet. “Make sure a prospect brings over my bag from the clubhouse with thesecurity equipment. I’ll be staying in the spare bedroom until the property is secure.”
