“What is?—”
My words cut off when I looked up and saw the dead coyote hanging from the front gate. Across a rough board nailed beside it, someone had painted a single word in thick black letters: LEAVE.
The cut fence had been frightening. This was something else entirely. The cruelty of it was horrifying.
Brogan was out of the truck before I could even unbuckle. He strode straight to the gate, cut the rope with a pocketknife, and lowered the animal to the ground so I wouldn’t have to look at it any longer than necessary.
Then as I climbed out of the truck, he pulled out his phone. “Hawkeye, get a couple of brothers out here now. Someone left a message on the gate. Preserve anything that might carry evidence.”
His controlled tone was somehow more unnerving than if he’d been shouting, but I took comfort in it because I knew his fury was on my behalf.
11
STRYKER
Jacqueline hadn’t said much through dinner. She smiled when I talked to her, thanked me when I handed her a drink, and even laughed quietly when I caught myself checking the locks for the third time before sitting back down. But the laughter never quite reached her eyes. Every few minutes, I’d catch her staring toward the dark kitchen window before she remembered I was watching and turned back with another brave little smile that didn’t fool me for a second. She was trying not to let me see she was shaken.
After dinner, she curled into one corner of the couch with a blanket tucked over her legs and a book open in her lap. But ten minutes later, she still hadn’t turned a page. Her eyes tracked the same paragraph repeatedly while her thumb worried at the edge of the blanket.
Eventually, I held out my hand. “Come here, baby.”
She looked up immediately, blue eyes soft with exhaustion. “I’m distracting you.”
“You’ve been doing that since I saw you pointing a shotgun at three men who were twice your size.”
The corner of her mouth lifted despite herself, and I leaned back against the couch, still holding out my hand.
She didn’t hesitate to slip her fingers into mine, and I tugged her across the couch. My hands settled on her waist, and I guided her onto my lap until she straddled me. Her eyes searched my face with a shy uncertainty that tightened something deep inside my chest.
“There you are,” I murmured.
She ducked her head, a faint blush warming her cheeks. “You make it sound like I wandered off.”
“You did.” I brushed a strand of hair behind her ear, letting my fingers linger against the silky warmth of her skin. “Been somewhere else all night.”
Her lashes lowered, and I slid one hand up her back, spreading it between her shoulder blades until I could feel some of the tension beneath my palm. “Look at me.”
She raised her head, and her beautiful azure orbs glistened in the soft lamplight.
“I won’t let anything happen to you.”
“I know.”
“No.” I shook my head. “I don’t think you do.”
Her brows drew together as she searched my face again.
“I’m not talking about cameras, fences, or brothers parked outside.” My thumb drifted slowly along her side in an absent stroke that seemed to soothe both of us. “I’ll protect you, and that means this ranch, your horses, and every damn dream you’ve got tied to this place. You don’t have to carry all this heavy shit on your own.”
Her eyes shimmered, and I watched the fight slowly leave her shoulders. It was the kind of relief that only came when somebody finally believed they had another pair of hands helping carry the weight. “You really mean that.”
I scowled. “I don’t say shit I don’t mean.”
A watery laugh escaped her. “I’ve noticed.”
She bent her head until her forehead was resting lightly against mine. Every instinct I possessed urged me to pull her closer and keep her there until the rest of the world stopped existing.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
