18. Kat

EIGHTEEN

Kat

Somehow, we'd all gotten out alive.

But that didn't mean we'd escaped without scars.

When the EMT's and the fire department got to the ranch, the fire had already destroyed most of the barn. They managed to control the blaze before it spread across the field…but they hadn't gotten there in time to stop me from putting myself in danger.

That meant I had a few bad burns, a ton of smoke inhalation, and a body that ached like hell.

It also meant that I had to stay in bed for a few days, even though I knew there was work to be done.

That was probably the hardest part.

"Kat, you need to rest." Gabe's voice was firm, and definitely not a request. He towered over my bed like some kind of mountain-man sentinel, his hands planted on his hips.

I squinted up at him, the pain meds making me feel like I was trying to focus underwater. "Work isn't gonna do itself."

"Your health comes first," he shot back, and there wasn't any room for negotiation in those four words.

Damn, if his stubbornness didn't match mine every step of the way.

"Fine," I conceded with a huff, sinking deeper into the pillows. But as soon as his back was turned, I'd be up.

…or so I thought until a wave of dizziness glued me to the bed.

"Sleep," he ordered softly, brushing a lock of hair from my forehead—a touch that lingered just a second too long.

"Bossy," I accused.

"Guilty." His lips twitched in that semblance of a smile I'd come to know. Then he was gone, leaving me to the mercy of the meds coursing through my veins.

One day melted into two, and two into three. My consciousness ebbed and flowed, dreams tangling with reality until I couldn't tell one from the other. Gabe was always there, a constant presence. Sometimes I'd wake to find him changing my dressings, his touch gentle yet efficient, his brow creased with focus.

"Shouldn't you be doing…I dunno, manly stuff?" I teased once, my voice weak but my spirit still kicking.

"Taking care of you is the manliest thing I can do right now," he retorted without missing a beat.

How do you argue with that?

I didn't know how long it had been when I finally got the strength to get back out of bed, but a quick glance at my phone told me it had been several days. Shit . That was too long, and my horses had been out in the elements that whole time. I crawled out of bed and dressed as fast as I could, steeling myself to get a lay of the land.

Nobody was home, though I could hear Bandit whining somewhere in the house.

"Bandit?" I called, my voice hoarse from disuse—but the dog was already bounding down the hall towards me when I came out of my room. He whined, pawing at the front door like he was trying to dig his way to China.

There was one hell of a racket outside, but I couldn't make sense of what it might be.

Given my luck lately, probably someone else here to destroy our lives.

I shuffled to the door, my body protesting every movement. I unlatched the door and swung it open, squinting against the light that spilled into the dim hallway.

Only to find cars.

A whole mess of them, cluttering up the gravel driveway.

"Jesus, Bandit, what kind of party did you throw?"

I watched as he dashed outside, his tail a furious pendulum. Following his lead, I stepped out onto the porch, hugging my arms around my middle. It was cool, October making its presence known. And the barn…

The old barn—or where it used to be—was a hive of activity. My gaze fixed on it, not quite believing what I was seeing. New wood structures rose from the ashes, beams stretching up to the clear sky.

This…there was no way it was real. It would take weeks of work, thousands of dollars…

I shuffled down the stairs then into the field, my bare feet cold against the dewy grass. I was only wearing a set of mismatched pajamas and an oversized hoodie, but I didn't care; there was something happening on my land that I hadn't approved.

Now to figure out the culprits.

As I scanned the field, I caught sight of Gabe with his back to me, hauling lumber like it weighed nothing; Sheriff Callahan, surprisingly, in work clothes rather than his uniform; Deputy Langley was there too, hammer in hand. And on the roof, a mountain of a man with a beard and hair the color of autumn leaves.

My heart thudded unevenly as I realized just how many people were here. Lisa Morales, our park ranger with an affinity for lost causes—apparently, including my family's ranch—nodded to someone, and a couple of faces I couldn't place were busy measuring and cutting.

This wasn't just a few hands helping out; this was a community, coming together.

Bandit bounded over to Gabe, tongue lolling, and that attracted Gabe's attention to me—at which point he put down the wood he was carrying and set off toward me. He met me halfway to the barn, taking in my disheveled appearance and bare feet.

"Kat! You shouldn't be out here!"

"Too late for that," I retorted. "Where are the horses?"

He looked at me like I was insane—I guess because any ordinary person would've asked about the barn first. "They're safe."

"Safe where, Gabe?" I pressed.

"Jake O'Hara's got them. Just up the road." His tone was gentle, reassuring. "You saved every last one, Kat. They're fine."

I sighed in relief. Now I could figure out what the hell was going on with the barn.

"And…this," I waved a hand at the new structure, "how much is this going to cost me?"

"Actually," Gabe started, scratching the back of his neck, "Me and Sheriff Callahan got the ball rolling on a collection for you, seeing as he felt responsible for dropping things in the first place. The whole town pitched in. It's all funded."

"Really?" My gaze drifted past Gabe and sure enough, there was the Sheriff, edging closer with a sheepish look. I crossed my arms and nailed him with a look that would've made my mama proud.

He flinched, just slightly.

Good.

"Kat, I'm glad to see you're on your feet," Sheriff Callahan started as he walked hesitantly toward us, his voice tinged with regret.

"No thanks to you," I shot back.

He winced but nodded, taking it on the chin. "I'm genuinely sorry, Kat. I wanted to believe Silver Ridge was above this kind of violence. I thought better of our town and…it clouded my judgment."

"Are you finally taking me seriously then?"

"Absolutely." He met my gaze squarely now. "There's an ongoing investigation. We're looking at the barn burning, the home invasion, and Ben's murder as interconnected crimes."

I held his gaze for a long moment, searching for the sincerity that had been lacking before. Finally finding it, I nodded once, sharply. "Good."

A part of me wanted to keep grilling the Sheriff, make him squirm a bit more for brushing off my concerns about Ben's murder and the attacks on my property—but what would that solve? Instead, I turned to Gabe.

"Show me the barn?" I asked.

"Sure thing." He offered his arm like an old-fashioned gentleman. "But watch your step, and mind your head with all the construction going on. You sure you don't want me to carry you?"

I eyed him, knowing people would talk…

…but people were already talking. And gossip was better than a nail to the foot.

"Wouldn't that be weird?" I asked.

He huffed out a laugh, then turned around and looked over his shoulder at me. "Come on, cowgirl. Climb on."

The building site was buzzing, hammers clanging against nails, saws whirring through lumber. I felt a swell of something warm in my chest as Gabe navigated around tools and planks scattered across the ground, my legs dangling from where he held me piggyback. Every few steps, someone would stop their work to greet me, their faces flushed with effort and amusement.

"Hey there, Kat!" Lisa called out from where she was helping hoist up a support beam.

"Hi, Lisa. This is…wow," I managed, my heart swelling at the sight of her, along with others—familiar and not—working together on my family's land.

"Kat, you don't have to thank us," Chris Langley said, wiping sweat from his brow as he approached with a cooler of drinks for the volunteers.

"Well, you can't stop me," I shot back.

"Fair enough," Chris chuckled, handing a bottle of water to a volunteer before turning back to his work.

As I passed more faces, giving nods and murmurs of gratitude, a figure descended from the roof, agile despite his size. He jumped the last few feet, landing with a soft thud. His hand reached out as he approached, a subtle smile splitting his beard.

"You must be the woman Gabe won't shut up about."

I laughed. "Guilty as charged," I said, taking his hand. Gabe set me down, a scowl briefly crossing his face.

"Kat, meet Clay Hawthorne," Gabe said, the tone in his voice tighter than the grip he'd had on my legs moments ago. "He's a friend from up in the mountains."

"Nice to meet you, Clay," I said, trying not to read too much into Gabe's reaction.

"Likewise," Clay replied, his eyes lingering just a beat too long for casual interest.

I cleared my throat, glancing between the two men. "I'll have to treat you all to dinner soon, given how much you're doing for me."

Clay waved a dismissive hand. "It's nothing."

"Still," I insisted, feeling the weight of their labor on my shoulders, "it's the least I can do."

Gabe relaxed slightly, giving me a nod. "We'll take you up on that, won't we, Clay?"

"Sure thing," Clay agreed, though his gaze suggested dinner wasn't all he was considering.

I made a mental note to keep an eye on that one.

Gabe hoisted me back up to avoid any injuries, taking me away from the half-built barn and the cluster of townsfolk who were hammering and sawing with a sense of purpose I hadn't seen in Silver Ridge for years. "Wait," I said. "I should stay…help out."

"Kat," he murmured, "you should be in bed, or at least wearing some shoes on your feet. And those burns need more time."

I looked down at my pajama-clad self and couldn't help but agree. The cool dirt beneath my feet and the sting of the sun on my bandaged arms were reminders of just how unprepared I was to face the outside world.

"Right," I sighed as we reached the porch steps, Bandit trotting loyally behind us. Gabe set me down and Bandit licked my hand—as a show of support, I guess.

"Thank you, Gabe. For all of this." I gestured vaguely back toward the barn, feeling a lump form in my throat. The sight of the community rallying around me…it was overwhelming.

Gabe just shook his head, a wry smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Don't mention it. Now, let's get you inside before you catch a cold."

"Or before Clay offers to carry me back in his big, strong arms," I quipped, the smirk on my lips belying the flush of heat that Gabe's proximity brought to my cheeks.

"Over my dead body," Gabe muttered, though I caught the ghost of a smile. His hands found their way to my shoulders, thumbs gently rubbing circles into the fabric of my top.

The air between us crackled, a current that had nothing to do with the dry, mountain wind. Even in all the chaos, I hadn't forgotten what we'd been about to do…what we'd done in his truck. He leaned in, and I tilted my chin up, my heart pounding a reckless rhythm?—

A burst of laughter erupted from the direction of the barn. We pulled away, startled out of the moment.

"Sorry," Gabe mumbled, scratching the back of his neck, eyes darting away from mine. "We should?—"

"Focus on the barn. Right." The words came out more sharply than I intended. A part of me burned to close that distance again, but another, louder part screamed caution.

Every time we got close, chaos wasn't far behind.

It had happened twice now—our first time distracting me from protecting the ranch from Everett Jones, and the last time the barn catching fire. But even as I stepped inside, leaving the threshold—and the almost-kiss—behind me, I couldn't shake the feeling of being perched on the edge of something vast and unknown.

With Gabe, with Silver Ridge, with everything.

We could tell ourselves over and over not to get distracted…but me and Gabe were hurtling toward each other, no matter what promises we made.

I just had to make sure that didn't get anyone killed.