Page 55 of Montana Justice

My chest tightened at the memory. “I loved that library. It was quiet, safe. Mrs. Henderson would let me stay past closing sometimes, pretend she didn’t see me reading in the back corner.”

“What were you reading?”

“Everything. Fiction, nonfiction. Then as I got older, college brochures, textbooks people had donated, scholarship applications I’d never be able to submit.” I smiled at the memory, bittersweet. “I had this whole plan mapped out. Community college first, then transfer to a four-year school. Business degree, maybe marketing. Something that would let me use what I’d learned about reading people for good instead of just survival.”

“It’s not too late.” His voice was gentle but insistent. “Lots of people go back to school later. Especially new moms—online classes are perfect for working around baby schedules.”

“Maybe.” The lie came easily, practiced. Because we both knew I’d never make it to registration. Ray would make sure of that. And even if he didn’t, I was realistic about my future. Best-case scenario, I’d be in prison. Worst-case… I didn’t let myself think about worst-case.

“I mean it,” Lachlan pressed. “You’re smart, Piper. Scary smart. And now you have stability, support. There’s no reason you can’t?—”

“I should get to bed.” I started to stand, needing to escape before his faith in me made me shatter completely. “Thank you again for tonight.”

“Wait.” He caught my hand, gentle but firm. “If this was your first real date, we can’t end it yet.”

“Lachlan—”

“Stay here.” He was already heading toward the kitchen. “Don’t move.”

I sank back onto the couch, too emotionally wrung out to argue. The sounds of him moving around the kitchen were oddly soothing—the freezer opening, spoons clinking against bowls, the soft thud of cabinets closing.

He returned with two bowls of chocolate ice cream and a grin that made him look like a kid. “Can’t have a proper first date without ice cream and a movie.”

“It’s late?—”

“So?” He handed me a bowl, the cold ceramic shocking against my palms. “Tomorrow’s Saturday. I’ll get up with Caleb. We can afford to stay up past our bedtime.”

He grabbed the remote and started scrolling through options on the TV. “What do you like? Action? Comedy? Please don’t say horror—I’m man enough to admit those things give me nightmares.”

A surprised laugh escaped me. “The tough sheriff is afraid of scary movies?”

“Have you seen horror movies lately? They’re terrifying. Give me a good old-fashioned shootout any day over creepy kids and jump scares.” He paused on a romantic comedy, glancing at me sideways. “This okay?”

“Perfect.”

He started the movie, then surprised me by pulling an old quilt from the back of the couch. “My grandmother made this. Said every couch needs a proper cuddle blanket.”

“Cuddle blanket?”

“Her words, not mine.” But he spread it over both of us, creating a cocoon of warmth that smelled faintly of cedar and home.

I ate my ice cream slowly, hyperaware of every place our bodies touched beneath the blanket. His thigh against mine. Hisshoulder solid and warm when I let myself lean just a little. The movie played on the screen, but I couldn’t focus on the plot. My entire attention was caught by this moment—ordinary and perfect and completely outside my experience.

“Thank you,” I whispered, not sure if I meant for the ice cream or the movie or the blanket or just for being him.

He shifted his arm along the back of the couch, an invitation I couldn’t resist. I curled into his side, my head finding the hollow of his shoulder like it had been made to fit there. His arm came around me, holding me close but not tight, and I felt something in my chest finally, finally unclench.

“Better?” he murmured against my hair.

“Yeah.” My eyes were getting heavy, the combination of emotional exhaustion and unexpected safety pulling me under. “This is nice.”

I was already drifting, suspended between waking and sleeping, held safe in the circle of his arms. For the first time in longer than I could remember, I fell asleep without fear. Without planning escape routes or listening for danger or calculating the cost of kindness.

I fell asleep feeling protected. Feeling wanted. Feeling like, maybe, in another life, I could have been the kind of woman who deserved this.

The last thing I heard was Lachlan’s voice, so soft I might have imagined it. “I’ve got you, Piper. You’re safe.”

If only that were true.

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