Chapter 27

27

They had been some of the longest hours of his life, but he had his sister safely tucked in at his cousin Houghton's mansion. Complete with multiple armed guards around her—and Gunnar Erickson watching every move she made. Powell and Heather were both going to recover, though Heather had taken far worse damage than Powell had. Protecting his sister.

Powell had told his parents she was pregnant days ago.

Powell and her baby, due around mid-September, were going to be fine. Brandt was still coming to terms that he was going to be an uncle. And that Gunnar and Powell were together now. If they were, no one had really said yet. But Powell was pregnant, his mother was thrilled, and Gunnar was the father.

Life in Finley Creek was going on without him. Brandt still hurt a little that he wasn't going to be such a big part of his family's lives any longer. He knew Masterson was the best place for him to grow in the way he needed to, and Masterson was the best place for Meyra—but he would always miss his family. Being an almost daily part of their world, and them his.

Just how much they meant to him had been reiterated in the hours between his plane landing at the private airstrip at the Barratt Ranch and the moment word had come that Powell had made her own way to the hospital. She had been out there, with monsters. Men who hadn't cared one damned bit about her, her baby, or Heather and the two little girls who needed Heather most.

Nowhere was truly safe. He had learned that long ago. Every moment with the ones you loved was infinitely precious.

He made it back to the Talley Inn really late . Close to midnight.

He just wanted to find a bed, and in the morning—he wanted to find the woman he loved. He just needed to see her—as soon as he could.

Just to remind himself the world was a good place, and the monsters weren't destined to win.

To his shock, she was at the front desk with her sister. Meyra always took the morning hours.

"Brandt!"

He dropped his bag and just stared at her. She had on a hoodie again, her hair was in braids, and she wore pajama pants. She looked tired. But no one had ever looked more beautiful to him now. "Meyra."

She came to him. "Is Powell okay?"

"She will be. She will be." He just opened his arms. He hoped…

She walked right into his arms. Just like that.

He pulled her close and just breathed in the scent of her. And held her close.

And finally felt like things were going to be okay.

He was shaking. That sank in, fast. Meyra just wrapped her hand around his. "Come on."

She wanted to take care of him. Meyra just did. She looked at her sister. "Good night. I'm…going to go upstairs and talk to him for a while."

Marin had a look in her eyes Meyra didn't quite understand when she nodded. "Take care of him."

Meyra would. She just didn't want him to have to be alone. He didn't say anything in the elevator. Meyra just followed him to 306 and waited while he used his card. He hadn't let go of her hand, though.

"Tell me what happened." He was hurting, she could see that. And she wanted to help.

She listened as he gave the details. How his sister had just told his brothers and his parents about the baby that week. How thrilled his mother was. How he thought Powell and Gunnar really loved each other. And how Heather had distracted the men holding them hostage so Powell could get away.

Heather had been hurt far worse than Powell. "She just did it. Knowing what the cost could be, that she might not get back to her girls—she just did it. For Powell. And I can't stop thinking about that. I held Heather's little girls before I left. They were in the waiting room of the hospital, and I just held them both. Thinking of what those assholes could have taken from them."

And she wasn't stupid—thinking about what could have been taken from him, too. Meyra had lived those same fears before.

She walked to him, where he stood right there in the middle of one of their largest guest rooms. And wrapped her arms around his waist. She pressed her cheek to his chest and just held him. While she listened.

Somehow, she ended up sitting on his lap, in the chair by the window as they talked. As she listened. Just watching the snow drift down.

Meyra just held him. He just held her.

No, they really just held each other.