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I shrug and give a tight smile.
His mouth forms a thin line, but he nods.
We all follow him out the door, Gage being the last one. He locks the bunkhouse door and when he turns, I see he has my favorite blanket tucked underneath his arm. It’s a comfort to me and he knows that from our many nights spent together. The fact that he thought to grab it sends a flare of longing straight through the center of my chest.
He catches up to me in a jog and threads his fingers through mine.
“I’m sorry, Blythe.”
I don’t reply right away.
“I disappointed you.”
I nod, tears in my eyes.
“I never meant for…” he reaches for words that aren’t coming to him.
“I know,” I say and squeeze his hand at the same time.
As we make our way to the horses, I notice the rifle that Gage is strapping onto the side of his saddle. The knife he tucks into the saddle bag. The pistol he clips into the holster laced under his jacket.
We’re not going down without a fight.
Chapter 31
Blythe
The thundering of hooves sounds against the dry prairie earth as we ride toward this mysterious house that I’ve never seen, let alone heard of. My curiosity grows more and more the closer that we get.
Sure enough, as Gage said, there’s a barely visible path past the gate at the end of the field. The thick leather reins in my hands threaten to snap from my death grip on them while we navigate as far down the road as possible. As if breathing for me, the sharp whip of the wind forces air into my lungs. I suck in the oxygen and will the looming fear inside of me to exhale.
We cross a shallow creek and on the other side of it, a large log cabin comes into view. It’s almost completely surrounded by gigantic shade trees, and the sun filters through them, leaving rays of gold light streaming onto the porch.
It’s huge. At least two stories above ground and spanning so far into the woods that I can’t see the back of it. We ride off to the right where there’s a barn. After dismounting, I check that the horses have water inside the corral while the guys untack.
It feels entirely secluded here. It’s silent apart from the sounds of nature, and the house and barn blend into the landscape. No manicuring or bulldozing for a view or a pool or decorations. It’s been left in as natural of a state as possible. I head toward the house, the heavy footfalls of several pairs of boots close behind me.
As I climb the half-log steps, I fight the urge to grab my blanket out of Gage’s hands and curl up on the bed swing in the far corner of the porch. It sways ever so slightly in the breeze and is covered in light gray pillows. Between the birds chirping and the rustling of the leaves all around, I can imagine myself napping or reading there for hours on end. It’s the picture of peace.
The exact opposite of how this day has gone so far.
Gage hustles ahead of me to reach the door first. He types several numbers into a keypad and scans his thumbprint into a screen. When a green light flashes, the lock dislodges from the door with a heavy click. Shoving the door open, he ushers us all inside.
I was expecting something more rustic and cozy, but the inside of the house is almost completely bare. The hum of computer monitors echoes in the space. Turning to my left, I see a large room, flanked by French doors, that is most likely supposed to be a family or living area. But instead, it’s filled with screens showing security feed from around the ranch. One of the screens shows a recognizable view of the bunkhouse’s main space.
I’ll ignore that disturbing little discovery for now.
I have to crane my neck all the way back to look up at the tall cathedral ceiling draped with natural wood beams. We make our way into the kitchen, which seems to be the most habitable room. Just as I pull a bar chair from the island to sit, an alarm blares through the entire house. I cover my ears and duck my head down, feeling two arms wrap around me and pulling me toward the wall. Most likely Warren’s since he was standing closest to me a second ago. My heart races from the jarring noise and I relive the shock of Gage’s words:“You’re not safe with me.”
“Sorry,” Gage yells over the insistent beeping. I look up to see him typing furiously on his phone until the alarm stops. He shuffles into the security screen area that we just passed, and returns just a moment later. “They’re here.”
“Who’s they?” Always Tripp with the questions.
“My brother and his men. I gave them this location and asked them to meet us here.”
“I thought you said your family was dangerous,” I say in a worried tone.
“They are. But he’s as much of a target as I am. And we’re a stronger defense if we work with him instead of against him. He knows more about Reynolds’ operation than I do, and I want them taken care of. I don’t have much of a choice.”
