Page 20 of Keeper of Talon Mountain
"Thank you," I manage. "That means a lot."
After Finn leaves, I stand in the kitchen staring at the supplies he brought—flour and sugar and coffee, mundane things that feel surreal after yesterday's violence. Gabe comes up behind me, his hands settling on my shoulders.
"You okay?" he asks.
"People in town are organizing watch rotations because of me. Because I brought you here."
"Because someone attacked you on your property," he corrects gently. "That's not the same thing."
"Isn't it?" I turn to face him. "Those men came here for you. Whatever danger you're in, I'm in it now too. And so is everyone who tries to help us."
"I should leave." The words are quiet, careful. "If I left, they'd follow me. You'd be safe."
The suggestion makes my chest tight with panic and anger in equal measure. "Don't. Don't you dare suggest that again."
"Mara...”
"We talked about this yesterday. I chose to stand with you, and I'm not changing my mind just because it's gotten complicated." I grab the front of his shirt, holding him in place. "You don't get to make decisions about my safety without me. We're in this together."
His face changes—relief mixed with gratitude. "Okay."
"Okay." I pull him down for a kiss, hard and quick. "Now help me make breakfast. If people are watching the road, we should probably feed them."
We work in comfortable silence, falling into an easy rhythm. Gabe sets the table while I cook eggs and bacon, brew coffee and toast bread. It feels normal, which is strange considering everything that happened yesterday.
Zara arrives as we're finishing breakfast, letting herself in through the back door like she always does. She stops short when she sees Gabe sitting at my kitchen table. Her gaze flicks from his damp hair to the fact that he's wearing yesterday's clothes to the way we're moving around each other without getting in each other's way.
"So," she says, dropping her bag on the counter. "That happened."
"Zara...”
"It's fine." She holds up a hand. "You're an adult. You can make your own decisions. Even if those decisions involve sleeping with a guy who had professional killers trying to kidnap him yesterday."
Before I can respond, there's another knock at the door. Gabe tenses, but through the window I can see Nate Barrett's truck. A moment later, Nate and Zeke come in together, both looking serious.
"Morning," Zeke says, though his expression suggests this isn't a social call. "Heard you already got Finn's message about the vehicles."
"Yeah." I pour them both coffee. "What's really going on?"
Zeke and Nate exchange a look, and something passes between them—some kind of silent communication that makes my stomach tighten. Finally, Zeke pulls out his phone and shows me a photo. Three black SUVs parked in a clearing off the old logging road, barely visible through the trees.
"Caleb took this about an hour ago," Zeke says. "He was checking the northern trails and spotted them. Got close enough for photos before they noticed him."
"Did they see him?" Gabe asks, his voice sharp.
"Saw him leave, but he was on his sled and knows those trails better than anyone." Nate takes the coffee I offer with a nod of thanks. "They didn't follow. But they know we're watching them now."
"Good," Gabe says, which surprises me until I see the calculation in his eyes. "Let them know they can't move without being seen. Makes them think twice about another approach."
Nate's expression shifts, becomes appraising. He settles at the table across from Gabe, his posture relaxed but his eyes sharp. I've seen that look before—he's a former Navy SEAL, and he recognizes something in Gabe that the rest of us can't quite name.
"You've done this before," Nate says. It's not a question.
"I don't remember doing it," Gabe replies carefully. "But yeah. My body knows."
"Navy?" Nate asks.
Gabe touches his dog tags through his shirt. "That's what these say. But I don't remember serving."
