Page 56 of Montana Justice

Chapter 19

Piper

The soundof children’s laughter mixed with barking dogs and the occasional whinny created a special kind of chaos at Pawsitive Connections. I stood near the rabbit hutches, watching Evelyn chase after her almost-three-year-old son Zeke, who seemed determined to climb into the pen with the goats.

“Zeke, sweetie, we pet the goatsthroughthe fence,” Evelyn called, her dark hair escaping from its ponytail as she moved. Six-year-old Avery sat cross-legged by the rabbits, carefully offering lettuce leaves with the serious concentration only a child could manage.

Emma laughed from where she supervised her four-year-old Tyson’s attempts to brush one of the therapy dogs. “At least yours listens sometimes. Tyson’s current life goal is to ride every animal on this property like a horse.”

“Including the chickens,” Jada added, emerging from the barn with fresh water buckets. Her movements were efficient,practiced from months of working here when she wasn’t in school. “Last week, he tried to saddle up Big Bertha.”

“The rooster?” I couldn’t help but smile at the mental image.

“The very one. Lark had to bribe him with cookies to let go of the poor bird.”

I’d been working at Pawsitive for three weeks now, but this was my first time experiencing what Lark called “controlled chaos day”—when the Resting Warrior and Warrior Security moms brought their kids to visit. The property transformed from a working farm to something closer to a petting zoo, complete with sticky fingers and delighted squeals.

Caleb watched everything from his carrier strapped to my chest, his dark eyes—so like his father’s—taking in the activity with serious baby contemplation. At five and a half months, he was more alert every day, reaching for things that caught his interest.

“He’s getting so big,” Emma said, moving closer to peek at him. “Look at those cheeks!”

“He’s finally catching up from being premature.” I adjusted the carrier straps, the weight of him both grounding and terrifying. Every pound he gained was proof I was doing something right, even as I betrayed everything else.

“Mama! Mama, look!” Zeke had managed to get his entire arm through the fence and was petting a very patient goat. “Soft!”

“Very soft,” Evelyn agreed, gently extracting him. “But we need to be gentle, remember?”

Jada set down the water buckets and stretched, her college sweatshirt riding up to reveal a scar along her ribs. She’d told me pieces of her story over the past week—how she’d stalked and kidnapped Kenzie Hurst, one of Resting Warrior’s own, and nearly destroyed multiple lives. Then her memories had been permanently erased when she’d been given some sort of drug.

The parallels to my own situation felt like accusations every time I looked at her. The difference was, when Jada learned the truth about what she’d done, even though she couldn’t remember the person she’d been when she’d done it, she’d chosen to make it right.

She’d nearly died protecting the people she’d once targeted.

I was still actively betraying mine.

“Earth to Piper,” Emma called, waving a hand in front of my face. “Where’d you go?”

“Sorry. Just thinking about everything I need to get done today.” I forced a smile, adjusting Caleb when he started to fuss. “Duchess is getting closer to foaling. Lark wants me to check on her every hour.”

“That mare’s been ‘getting closer’ for two weeks,” Jada said. “I swear she’s holding that baby in just to make Lark crazy.”

“Speaking of babies,” Evelyn said, corralling Zeke again as he made another break for the goats, “how are things going with you and the sheriff?”

Heat flooded my cheeks. “Things are fine.”

“Fine?” Emma’s eyebrows shot up. “That’s not what I heard. Margie Henderson said she saw you two at the grocery store yesterday, and I quote, ‘looking at each other like the sun rose and set in each other’s eyes.’”

“Margie Henderson needs a hobby,” I muttered.

“She has one,” Jada said. “It’s called gossiping about Sheriff Sexy.”

I choked on air. “Sheriffwhat?”

“Oh, come on,” Evelyn said, finally giving up and lifting Zeke into her arms, despite his protests. “He’s gone from Deputy Dashing to Sheriff Sexy if you ask any of the single women in town—and quite a few of the married ones too. Those shoulders? That smile? And now he’s gone and turned into a devoted father and boyfriend? The man’s practically catnip.”

“We’re not— I mean, he’s not my boyfriend.” The word felt strange in my mouth, too normal for what we were. Too simple for the complicated tangle of want and guilt and impending disaster.

“Riiiight,” Emma said, drawing out the word. “That’s why he looks at you like you personally hung the moon. And why you’ve been wearing that little smile all week.”

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