Page 56 of Into the Fire
“She’s okay,” Emery breathed. “She’s okay, Levi,” she said to him, but in a way, she needed to reassure herself just as much.
He leaned forward and kissed her hard, full of gratitude and something deeper—something that anchored itself into her soul.
Around them, people began to breathe again. They went back to their conversations as the chaos faded. The fire pit crackled. The sun dipped lower on the horizon.
But Levi didn’t let go. Not of Emery. Not of June. He just held them there in the grass, like they were his whole damn world.
Because they were.
20
Levi stood at the counter, pouring coffee into his travel cup before he went back out to move irrigation on the back field. Emery had already gone to town and was back after dropping June off at school, the morning sunlight coming through the window and warming the kitchen, including the man who somehow made her heart race and settle all at once.
“You ever heard of the Spring Saddle Swap?” Levi asked, tossing her a crooked grin as he placed a fresh cup of coffee in front of her in the oversized mug that he knew had become her favorite.
She furrowed her brow, sitting down at the counter and tucking her legs up under her. “Sounds like a cowboy code for something kinky.”
Levi barked a laugh, shaking his head as he reached intothe fridge to pull out her French vanilla creamer without her having to ask, sliding it over to her.
“No, ma’am, it’s a tradition. Been around longer than my grandpa’s barn. It’s kinda like… Cold Creek’s version of Secret Santa, but it’s every fall on the same week. People sneak each other gifts; it could be funny, sweet, or sometimes downright weird. No names. You just find something tied to a saddle or your porch rail.”
Emery smiled, taking a sip of her coffee and watching him tell the story, unable to stop staring at his intense, deep blue eyes, noticing that Margaret was right, and lately, they looked a bit more full of light, the scowl that used to be a permanent fixture on his face missing. “Sounds adorable, like mysterious cowboy valentines.”
Levi chuckled, moving to stand behind her, his hands rubbing her shoulders. “Only tradition around here that makes even the grumpiest old ranchers smile.”
“Even you?” she teased.
“Even me,” he said, tipping her chin up over her shoulder for a kiss. “I'll be closeby today, but this will take me most of the afternoon. Keep an eye on the porch,” he told her with a wink, looking at her so gently, scanning her face as if he were trying to memorize it.
After spending a couple of hours prepping dinner and slicing some apples and cheese sticks for an afterschool snack, and now standing at the sink, just about finishing all the dishes from her project, the breeze picked up and filtered through the curtains above the window. Emery glanced up, catching a glimpse of something near the barn.
From the window, she couldn’t quite make it out, just the vague shape. Curiosity pulled her forward, but instinct whispered something else.
Sliding into her flip flops at the door, she stepped outside, Levi’s flannel thrown over her tank top as she walked through the soft grass towards the hitching post outside the main barn doors. As she approached the hitching post, her breath slowed.
It was a Barbie.
But not a pretty, smiling kind.
Thisone had been altered.
A brunette matted and rough around the edges, her hair hacked off unevenly, clothes tattered. The Barbie’s plastic hands had been bent and tied behind her back with twine, like some sick joke. The toes were painted pink—messy, smeared. She held the doll in her hand while looking past it down at her own pink toenails.
And tied to the doll's ankle was a note.
Scrawled in messy, hurried writing:Do you think he will protect you?
Emery stumbled back a step.
Her stomach flipped.
Pink toenails.
Cole had said something about her like that in the barn when they first met. When he'd made that off-hand comment, she remembered the heavy way his gaze had scanned over her and how her skin had crawled.
Then the coop.
She’d never told Levi about Cole cornering her in the chicken coop; he was too close, making her feel small and powerless. She’d convinced herselfit had passed.
