Between the three of them, they untied her. When she tried to stand, her knees buckled. She would have fallen but for Avery and Bree wrapping their arms around her, holding her up.
The paramedics arrived wheeling in stretchers. Sarah didn’t want to let go of her daughters. Her bony fingers gripped their hands. Tears slipped down her cheeks.
“You’re going to be okay,” Avery said. “We’ll be right behind you and follow you all the way to the hospital. He’s gone now. You don’t have to be afraid ever again.”
The medical technicians loaded her into the ambulance and pulled away
Grant drew Avery into his arms and held her close. “I thought I’d lost you.”
She sighed, glad it was over. “It was close.”
“Too close.”
Avery leaned back and looked up into his face. “If you hadn’t come when you did...” She looked around until her gaze found Bree.
Bree came to stand beside her. “It’s over.”
Avery nodded.
“She lived thirty-four years in fear.” Bree shook her head. “How does one get past that level of PTSD?”
Avery leaned into Grant. “With the love and care of family.”
He bent and pressed a kiss to Avery’s forehead. “Sarah and her father, your grandfather, will have love in spades.”
She smiled up at him. “And love heals.”
Epilogue
Eagle Rock, Montana
Four months later
* * *
Grant stood on the wide wooden porch of White Oak Ranch, staring out at the ladies leaning on the wooden rail of the horse paddock, talking like old friends, laughing and happy. Children played at their feet, chasing a puppy they’d rescued from the shelter days earlier.
Hank Patterson, founder of Brotherhood Protectors, stepped out of the house, carrying three beers. Swede leaned his tall body against the porch rail, a cowboy hat covering his shock of pale blond hair. He turned to accept one of the bottles. Grant took the other and twisted off the cap.
The three men lifted their bottles in a silent salute before they downed a long swallow.
“I’m glad to see Sarah is recovering from her ordeal with her ex-husband,” Hank said.
“She’s bouncing back faster than I expected.” Grant studied Avery’s mother as she smiled and talked with the other women. “She still looks over her shoulder and keeps her head down in public to avoid being seen. At least she isn’t wearing a hat everywhere she goes.”
“Thirty-four years of hiding is hard to shake in a couple of months,” Hank noted. “Thanks for taking the time to meet with me here in Montana. I know you’re busy back in Texas, settling into your home in the Hill Country.”
“It gave us an excuse to avoid some of the noise and dust of the remodel on the fixer-upper we bought in the same neighborhood as Avery’s boss, Paul Fletcher.”
“When’s the big day for the wedding?” Hank asked.
Grant grimaced. “It’s done.”
“What? I thought you were going to have a big shindig to celebrate your getting back together with Avery.”
“That was Bree’s idea.” Grant smiled. “She wanted that for her twin. After their grandfather died a month ago, Avery and I figured a ceremony wasn’t necessary. We marched down to the local justice of the peace, tied the knot and are now happily married for the second time.”
“Was Bree disappointed she didn’t get to plan the whole event?” Hank asked.
