Page 52 of She Autumn Be Mine

“Who?”

“Someone with means and a reason to pay for such information.”

Her face fell. “Marlene?”

“Based on what Trig said about her and what you know? It wouldn’t be a stretch to think she’d find out about me and our wedding, and pay someone to dig up anything they could find.”

“Oh, my God. I thought with the dismissal she would stop. But it’s not over. It probably only made her angry. It might never be over.” Her hands massaged her temples. I could see things spinning out of control inside her head.

“If it’s Marlene we’ll find out somehow. We’ll keep it together until then. I’ll talk to the guys in the morning and we’ll come up with a plan. You have me now to share all of this weight, remember? Together, we’ll get through this.” I kissed her solemnly, but she reared back.

“I need Stetson. Now. We need to get him from your mom. I can’t have him away from us a minute, not if Marlene is out there pulling stunts like these.”

“Okay, we’ll go get him. Whatever it takes for you to feel safe.”

We did, but she was quiet the rest of the night more than usual. We went to bed wrapped around each other, Stetson between us. They both fell asleep before I did, breathing slow against my chest.

Everything played back through my head as I lay there in the dark telling myself it was fine. That Autumn understood me now. That the quiet coming off her was a tired woman processing a hard night.

By morning the story had legs. Two news vans made their way to the ODRR gate and parked, reports streaming from there about “the decorated SEAL with a penchant for fighting” and whatever else they manufactured.

Ash called a meeting of the same men I’d grown to count on. The precedent held that nothing went beyond our inner circle. I shared quickly what I told Autumn about that night long ago.

Cash agreed with me. “Archive clipping, mugshot scrape, 'sources close to the family,' delivered ready-to-air just days after the custody case dies in court? That's a paid package, Jake. My trade, done dirty." He hadn’t known about the past since he joined my unit about a year after, and I’d never told him. His being here helped confirm my suspicions.

Gavin stood with his hat in his hand and the file result that had been nagging me for weeks. “Ran Brantley Eaton through everything I can legally touch. He’s clean, Jake. No warrants, no priors, not so much as a parking ticket. He’s not in the system at all.”

“That’s the part I find curious.” Cash stood, the PI showing through the ranch hand. “A man that is rich stays visible and careless. He’d get parking tickets at least.”

“So what should we do?”

“Give me the weekend.” He was already working it behind his eyes. “If I leave now, I could take the bike down to Sheridan and be there by noon. I’ll ask around—gyms, bars, the places guys like him with money would hang. If Brantley Eaton is there, I’ll know by Sunday. If he’s not—” He didn’t finish it with the sheriff standing there, but shot a look my way.

“I wasn’t here. I don’t know a thing.” Gavin commented. “Drive safe, Cash.”

He left, and took the long rumble of that chopper south out of the valley.

Ash chewed his cheek. “Now. What do you want to do about the circus at the ranch gate?”

“Fight fire with fire.” I stood and put my hat on. “I won’t hide, and hiding looks like guilt. I’m going to walk down there and answer the questions.”

Ash nodded once. “I’ll drive. You talk.”

One reporter’s eyes lit up when he saw us approach. “There he is!”

The cameras swung our way. The newspeople all shouted questions into their microphones, hungry like sharks smelling blood.

I started speaking and they all shut up to record. “You ran an old arrest. But sorry to break it to you, those charges all got dismissed. Every charge was dropped.” Click, whir went the cameras. Someone shouted a follow-up.

“The night in question, a man was hurting a woman in a parking lot. I stopped him in her defense. He had the knife. I got stabbed. I hit him and broke his nose. They charged me at first, but then all got dropped. I’m the good guy here. If you’re looking for a villain to sensationalize, you’re at the wrong ranch. End of story. Now please leave.”

We left a few of our guys at the gate to keep watch, and walked back up the drive to the sound of them shouting questions at our backs.

The story ran all day: McCALL RESPONDS—CHARGES WERE DROPPED. WAS SAVING A WOMAN. Not a retraction. But the first crack in Marlene’s attempt to disrupt things, and I’d made it with my own voice instead of a lawyer’s letterhead.

Autumn hadn’t texted today like usual. I figured we’d get back on track tonight and talk more over things. When I opened the cabin door, nobody was there. The place always held a hum of baby noises, kitchen noises… I spotted a note on the table. Something wasn't right.

Jake: I’m not ashamed of you. I meant every word last night. But I watched them put your face on the news today—your scar, your record, your name—and none of it is about you. It’s about ME. Marlene wants Stetson and won’t stop until she gets him. Even if she hurts the people I care about most. You. Your family. This ranch. There’s no low this woman will shoot for, and every person I let close is another thing she can set fire to. Until she gets what she wants, she won’t stop. I can’t let her do that. I can’t stand by and watch her dismantle my life here. I’m sorry. — Autumn.