Chapter 4

Chapter Four

NEIL

The storm was unrelenting, pounding on the roof of my office like a thousand fists. It was so loud it seemed as if the entire world was moving. The noise was almost deafening, my empty mug rattling on my desk and my favorite pen slipping off the side.

Solomon burst in, his face pale. "Did you feel that?" Solomon—our dispatcher—should have gone home hours ago. I wasn't going to make him leave now, though a storm like this, caught in the valley and up into the mountains, was going to cause issues, and I appreciated his level head.

"It didn't sound good," I replied, my voice barely audible over the storm's roar. The unsettling sensation of the ground moving beneath us lingered, and then everything stilled.

"Flash flood?" Solomon asked and glanced out of the window. The town itself wasn't in the path of the mountain's river and streams, but what about the outlying ranches? Fuck knows what was going on .

"Get calls out to all the ranches," I announced, pulling on my slicker. I'd not long come back from patrolling the town looking for disaster, and my hair hadn't even dried. Lewis still hadn't made it in, still trapped on the other side of the flash flooding.

The office phone rang on my desk, and I grabbed it. "Sheriff's office."

"Neil, it's Chris. I'm at the Lennox Ranch. There's been a landslide. It's bad."

I gestured at Solomon, and he frowned. "Lennox," I mouthed, and his frown turned grim. "Is everyone okay?" I asked.

"Close call, but so far."

"You need help up there? Paramedics?"

"They're not back yet."

"Who?" Who the fuck was out in this storm during a landslide?

"The guys, all of them. I'm at the house with Rachel and the kids."

Fuck. I could imagine Micah and Levi being out, and if Chris was up there, did that mean Noah was out as well? A freaking teacher? Jesus.

"Do you need medical help?"

"We're good here, but the others outside…"

"Help's on its way, Chris. Hang tight." I switched over to the radio as I hurried out of the door. "Solomon, patch me through to Deputy Redfearn and call this into Engine seventeen."

"Copy that, Sheriff." Solomon pressed buttons. "You're connected."

"Redfearn, you there? "

"Yeah, I'm here, Sheriff," Wyatt said. He was steady but new, still finding his feet in this town, two months into a six-month secondment with me.

"What's the ETA for removing the Carson vehicle?"

"Done. He's out with no injuries. Seventeen is leaving the site, and I'm heading back."

"Okay, cover town. The Lennox Ranch has a landslip, and I'm heading there. Solomon is calling Seventeen back. Lewis is on the other side of the flooding and can't get through, so it's just you and me."

"Copy," Wyatt responded.

The drive out of town and up the mountain to the ranch was treacherous, even with the four-wheel drive and years of training. The car skidded and slid on the muddy road, and new rivers formed down the sides, carving and creating new paths. The water was a torrent, relentless as if it aimed to wash away Whisper Ridge.

The town might be out of the path of the raging torrent, but the ranch was close enough to be in real danger. I worried about the people up there. Micah, Rachel, the kids, and the rest of the ranch folks were friends, and I'd grown up with Micah Lennox and Daniel Sheridan. The thought of something happening to any of them hurt. I tightened my grip on the wheel.

If the storm significantly affected the town, I'd call the state police for backup and maybe the National Guard if it got really bad. But for now, my priority was to check out the damage at the ranch, hoping firefighters wouldn't be far behind me.

The main house and outbuildings looked untouched as I approached. I parked the car, taking a moment to steady myself before getting out. The rain was a wall of water, slamming down with a force that made me squint against it. I tugged my slicker closer around my neck and clipped the hood as I checked the vehicles parked by the barns.

There were a lot.

There were too many for this to be the family alone.

I recognized the flashy SUV immediately—Connor's vehicle. Why was he up here in the dark, in a storm? He had to be here somewhere. Had he heard about the landslip and wanted to be all heroic? The thought of him being near potential danger sent a jolt of concern through me, overshadowing my worries about the ranch.

The hell?

"Focus."

I trudged through the mud toward the house, my boots sinking into the softened earth. As I got closer, I pushed the door open and stepped into the ranch house, shaking off the rain and taking in the scene. The place was decorated for a birthday, with a cake on one side and empty plates scattered around. A hand-colored banner with Quinn scrawled across it hung crookedly above the fireplace.

"How many more people are up here?" I muttered to myself, the situation's urgency pressing down on me. I needed a head count, and I needed it stat.

Quinn was there and spotted me first. He was nursing his left arm, and Rachel was applying a bandage. "Neil, thank God you're here."

"You're hurt?"

"Nothing I can't handle," Quinn said. "Levi brought me back down, but he's just left to go back up. "

"Who else?"

Quinn blinked at me. "Micah, Scott, Daniel, Levi, Noah, Connor." Six souls. Got it. "Connor's bleeding after he got sucked down, but he wouldn't come back."

Fear and anger surged through me in equal measure. Of course, the idiot wouldn't give up. My heart pounded, a mix of dread and fury. Connor always had to play the hero, putting himself in danger without a second thought. The thought of him out there, injured and stubbornly refusing help, made my blood boil. I clenched my fists, struggling to keep my voice steady.

"Where's the damage?" I asked, cutting straight to the chase.

"Further up the mountain, at the west stream, where the boulders are."

"I know the place." I turned to Rachel. "The kids?"

"In with Chris, playing games."

I nodded. "You know your land. If you're worried about the house and the kids, get them down the hill to the sheriff's office. Take Chris and Quinn."

"Will do."

"Levi's up there, and I'm not leaving," Quinn began.

I sent him my best sheriff stare, and he subsided. I didn't have time for idiots being where they shouldn't be.

"Rachel will decide," I said, and after a pause, Quinn gave a sharp nod. "I'll head up now. Send the firefighters up when they arrive." If they arrive.

"Will do," Rachel murmured, wrapping her arms around herself and staring out of the window.

I barely registered her reply as I returned to the storm, scanning the area for any sign of anyone. I wasn't looking for Connor—nope, I had a job. I wasn't worrying about what the idiot was doing up there. The rain blurred my vision, and the wind howled, but I pressed on. I had to see the damage for myself and ensure everyone was safe—including the one man who could always turn my world upside down with his stubbornness and ability to mess up everything. I grabbed my flashlight, a spare, and the medical go bag from the SUV, then headed up in a stumbling half-run away from the house.

I caught up with Levi towards the slip, both of us scrambling over loose stones as the wind howled around us. We stopped next to each other, bracing ourselves against the relentless gusts. The rain pelted, cold and unforgiving, but Levi's expression worried me.

"The water's changed course," Levi shouted over the wind. "It's further from the ranch, heading away from town and the graveyard. It's not close enough to cause immediate trouble, but it's something we need to watch. Quinn's at the house with Rachel and the kids."

"I know," I replied, my voice carried away by the storm. "I told them to go into town if they needed to."

"Same."

"Firefighters on their way if they can make it through."

The wind stole his words as we turned and trudged on up the hill. I needed to see the damage for myself. Each step was a battle against the mud and rain, but I pressed on. As I got closer, lightning and my flashlight revealed a few guys working hard to shore up the banks of a new watercourse. And then, of course, right in freaking danger was Connor.

He was apart from the others, moving stones, covered head to toe in mud and standing too damn close to the gaping hole in the hillside.

What the fuck was he doing?

I pushed forward, anger and concern mixing in my gut. "Connor!" I yelled, trying to get his attention over the storm's roar.

He looked up as I pointed the flashlight at his face, his gray eyes locking onto mine before he blinked and dipped his gaze. I was relieved he was okay, but frustration followed the relief. Connor had a knack for putting himself right in the middle of danger, and this was no exception.

"Get back from the edge!" I shouted, as I slipped through the mud to reach him.

Connor didn't move, the light resting on his face. Was that blood? He frowned at me as if I were interrupting something important. "We need to stabilize this area," he yelled, calm despite the chaos around us, using a branch to lever a huge slab of stone and heaving it into place, then swiping a hand through the blood streaking his face.

"Not if you get yourself killed first," I snapped back, grabbing his arm and pulling him away from the edge. "You're too close to the edge. It's not safe."

Connor tried to wriggle free, but he let me drag him back. "I know what I'm doing."

"No, you don't!" I tried to control my anger at the idiot who was asking mother nature to swallow him whole.

"You get back!" He shoved me.

I saw red.

"I'm supposed to be on the fucking edge!" I shouted, with no real logic. There was no way anyone should be this close to a crumbling hillside. "You're a civilian!"

We pushed and shoved at each other until we reached a more stable area where the others worked. They didn't even look at us, focusing on the shifting ground as the storm eased up and the rain slowed.

"Blood!" I gestured at Connor's head in the glow of the flashlight.

"I couldn't get to Quinn," Levi said, devastated. "Connor got him. We sent Quinn back down, but Connor won't leave."

Of course, he wouldn't. I gestured at his face. "You need to see a medic."

In return, he wiped at the blood and examined it before picking up a handful of mud and packing it on the forehead wound.

"It's not a fucking war zone!" I yelled, and he glanced around us.

As he turned to go back to the others, I grabbed his arm again, pulling him close enough he could hear me over the storm. "And be careful, dammit."

He gave me a half-smile that threw me off-balance. "You too, Sheriff ."

I watched him go, then turned my attention back to the task at hand and pitched in, picking up the nearest dislodged stone—half the weight of the one that Connor hefted, the asshole. There was a lot to do, but with everyone working together, we had a fighting chance to stop the bank on this side from breaking.

We were buffeted and soaked through but determined.

The relentless downpour became a steady drizzle. The earth stopped sliding, and the water, while still bubbling and hissing at speed, had settled into a more predictable path. The immediate danger seemed to be over enough that we canceled the firefighters, who wouldn't have been able to make it up here anyway, but the damage was done. The mountain's weight had carved into the soft mud, creating a new, precarious landscape.

Everyone worked tirelessly to stabilize the area as the storm began to ease up and I took a moment to survey the scene, trying to plan my next steps.

Micah approached me, his face smeared with mud, but his eyes were sharp and focused. "It's looking better, but we'll set up a watch rotation tonight. Make sure nothing shifts unexpectedly."

"Okay."

Connor moved close. "I'll take the first watch."

"You don't know what you're looking for," I said.

He pointed at the water. "Mud. Slip. Boulders. The big hole getting bigger. It's not rocket science."

"You're not a rancher." He raised an eyebrow, and I glanced at the head wound that was covered in mud but had stopped bleeding. "You could have a concussion."

"I've had worse."

Not that shit again. I wanted to argue, to tell him he needed rest, but I knew better than to offend the former SEAL, who would probably take it as a slight against his manhood, then beat his manly fucking chest. "Fine. But you're not doing it alone."

Connor's smile widened just a bit. "Wouldn't dream of it. Are you volunteering to hold my hand?"

"I have to go back down to town..." I stopped when I realized I'd engaged with him, as if I wanted to stay, and was pissed I had to leave.

How did he do this to me? I wanted to shove him away and pull him close all at the same time. How did he tie me in knots?

"I'll take the first shift with you," Micah said, his voice heavy with exhaustion. "We've done what we can for now. Let's get everyone down to the house and dry off, then Connor and I will come back up."

We made our way down the hill, the ground still unstable but no longer shifting. The ranch house was a beacon of warmth and safety, and as we reached the porch, I felt a wave of relief that I hadn't been here to file anything worse than whatever had happened to Connor's forehead.

Inside, Quinn and the others had set up a makeshift command center, ready with hot drinks and dry clothes. Levi fussed over his husband, convincing Quinn to head to the hospital. Meanwhile, Connor, ever the protector, was adding pressure.

"You need to go, Quinn," Connor insisted, his voice firm. "It's not worth the risk."

Quinn tapped his forehead. "It's not me who hit my head, throwing myself into the way of rocks to drag me out of the hole."

I swear Connor growled—he'd have to have broken all his limbs to believe he was hurt.

"It's my job to look out for you," he said.

Quinn patted his face. "No, it's not anymore. But thank you." He pulled Connor in for a hug, and I saw Connor stiffen but then give in to the enthusiastic man who was a head shorter than him.

Levi offered a hand, his other across Quinn's shoulder. "Thank you," he said from the heart.

"Doing. My. Job," Connor muttered, clearly embarrassed. Connor took his role as Quinn's protector seriously, almost obsessively. Even now, with Quinn settling quietly in Whisper Ridge with Levi, far from the dangers that once shadowed his life or the media wanting its pound of flesh, Connor hovered like a sentinel. His sense of duty never wavered, and I couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to have that kind of fierce protectiveness aimed at me. The thought of all that attention and focus sent an involuntary shiver down my spine, mingling unease with a flicker of longing.

I didn't want Connor's attention, nor did I need it.

Right?

"I still think you should go to the hospital," Connor added in a last-ditch effort.

His face flushed with pain and irritation, Quinn snapped, "It's just a sprain."

"What if it isn't?" Connor added, and I almost stepped in when Quinn began to turn scarlet and looked toward me as if he needed help.

"Maybe you should let Daniel take a look," Levi interjected, worry etched into his features as he refocused back on his other half.

"Stop! Both of you!" Quinn pointed at Connor and then Levi. "Daniel already checked me out."

Daniel raised a hand cautiously as if he didn't want to get in the middle of the Connor/Levi worrying-over- Quinn show. "As his doctor, I did, and he needs rest, not a hospital trip."

I watched the exchange, noting the tension between Quinn, his husband, and Connor. It wasn't just about Quinn's injury; it was the undercurrent of Connor's protectiveness and Quinn's fierce independence.

Connor sighed, and Levi hugged Quinn closer, both torn between their concern for Quinn and the logic of Daniel's assessment.

"Fine," Connor muttered. "But if anything changes, we're heading to the hospital."

Quinn rolled his eyes but managed a small smile. The tension eased slightly, but I could still feel Connor's frustration. As everyone settled down, I caught Connor's eye and gave him a reassuring nod. It was hard not to respect his genuine concern for Quinn, even if his bullish need to control things drove me crazy.

As I stripped off my muddy coat and accepted a cup of coffee from Rachel, I couldn't help but look for Connor across the room, as if I were drawn to watch him despite the chaos and the fact the idiot had been standing too close to that damn hole.

Did I admire him?

Did I have a thing for the hero with mud covering an injury who insisted he'd be guarding a mountain from Mother Nature in the middle of the goddamned night?

Who was I kidding?

Of course, I did.