Page 56 of Open Arms

Found you.

A choked sob caught in my throat as I stared at those two words, their jagged letters searing into my brain. It was his handwriting. I would know it anywhere, even after all these years. The way the ‘F’ slashed across the page, the sharp angles of the ‘u’ . . .

But it couldn’t be him. He was locked away, behind bars where he couldn’t hurt anyone ever again. This had to be some kind of sick joke.

I snatched up the letter with shaking hands, my eyes scanning the page for any other clues. There was nothing else, just those two damning words. No signature, no date, nothing to indicate where it had come from.

My vision blurred as memories assaulted me, fragments of a past I’d tried so hard to forget. The glint of a knife, the coppery scent of blood, the sound of my own screams echoing in my ears . ..

“No,” I whispered, squeezing my eyes shut. “He can’t hurt you anymore. He’s gone.”

But the fear that had been my constant companion for so long wouldn’t be silenced. It coiled in my gut like a poisonous snake, ready to strike at any moment. I crumpled the letter in my fist, my nails digging into my palm.

I couldn’t let him win. Not again. I had to be stronger than this.

With a shuddering breath, I shoved the crumpled letter into my bag and stood up on shaky legs. I had to keep going, had to pretend everything was fine. I couldn’t let anyone see how much this had rattled me.

I needed a distraction. And I knew just where to find it.

23

Mason

I wipedthe sweat from my brow with a rough hand and squinted against the glare, taking in the sight of the horses training in the rings. We were down a trainer now that Walker was working in the new division, but everyone else was pitching in.

I led my horse through the stables. “Good job today, Jasper,” I said, giving the chestnut stallion a friendly pat on the flank before closing the stable door behind him. The comforting scent of hay and leather filled the air, mixing with the earthy smell of the outdoors. It was the kind of smell that sank deep into your clothes and skin, marking you as part of the land.

When I reached the sunlight again, a sudden cloud of dust caught my attention, and I glanced up. A familiar silver car was making its way down the long dirt road leading to the ranch house. My heart skipped a beat—Chloe’s car. Wasn’t expecting to see her till I got home tonight. She had that effect on me, always stirring up something that felt a lot like anticipation but warmer, sweeter.

I leaned against the wooden fence post, arms crossed,watching as the car drew nearer. Couldn’t help the excitement bubbling up inside me, though I tried to play it cool. She brought light into places I didn’t even know were dark.

The dust from Chloe’s car settled like a soft shroud over the ground, and there she was, stepping out with a heaviness that seemed to drag at her small frame. My heart hitched in my chest, something was off. She usually had this shy smile, the one that said she was happy to be right where she was. Today? Nothing. Just a tight line where her lips should’ve been.

“Chlo?” I called out, my voice laced with a concern I couldn’t mask. “Everything alright?”

She glanced up, and even from this distance, I could see the storm clouds in her blue eyes, the kind you don’t saddle up for.

The kind you shelter from.

“Hi,” she managed, her voice a leaf trembling on a tree, just before it falls. I closed the distance between us in a few long strides.

“Talk to me,” I urged, reaching out to gently touch her arm. Her skin was cool, a stark contrast to the warm summer air. “What’s got you lookin’ like the world’s about to end?”

She shook her head, a silent plea in her gaze. I recognized that look. It wasn’t just fear. It was the kind of terror that gets deep into your bones, the sort you can’t shake off. Whatever was eating at her, it was big.

“Come on,” I said softly, guiding her toward the ranch office connected to the stables. “Let’s find some privacy.”

My office was small, cluttered with paperwork and the faint smell of leather and old coffee. But it was a sanctuary in its own right, walls lined with memories, certificates and photos. A place where trust was as much a part of the room as the wood beams above us.

“Here we are,” I murmured, closing the door gently behind us. “No one’ll bother us.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to just show up,” she started, wringing her hands, a nervous habit I’d come to know.

“Hey, no need for sorrys,” I reassured her, “You know you’re always welcome here.”

She gave a weak nod, like it took all her strength to do just that. I stood across from her, giving her space but staying close enough so she knew I wasn’t going anywhere. No matter what she was carrying, I wanted to help lighten the load. That’s what people did for each other around here. That’s what I wanted to do for her.

The silence stretched between us, thick with unspoken words. Then, like a summer storm breaking loose from the hold of heavy clouds, Chloe surged forward. Her hands found my cheeks, and she pulled me down into a kiss that scorched every ounce of worry straight out of my mind.

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