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I was ready to find the bastard who hurt Ellie and make him regret ever crossing her path. The ranch was plenty big enough—I could hide a body and no one would ever know.

The way she looked at herself—ashamed, defeated—I never wanted to see that look in her eyes again.

When the last of her tears dried up, she finally spoke, her voice weak. “I think I want to take a hot bath and call it a night.”

I shook my head. “I’m sleeping on the couch tonight. You’ve probably got a concussion, and you shouldn’t be alone.”

She frowned. “Colt, that’s really unnecessary.”

Ellie could argue all she wanted to. I wasn’t going to budge. “I’m not taking no for an answer.” I said, my tone firm. “Go take your bath and relax. I’ll be right here if you need me. And if you start to feel dizzy or nauseous, just yell for me, okay? ”

She hesitated, but there was no point in protesting further. “Okay,” she murmured, surrendering the battle.

As Ellie filled the tub with warm water and bubbles, I headed to the linen closet, pulling out a pillow and blanket for the night. After setting them on the couch, I grabbed my phone and dialed Liam.

“Hey, Colt. What’s up?”

“I need a favor.”

“Sure, whatcha got?”

“What can you tell me about a man who lived with Ellie back in Dallas? His name is Jason.”

“I can do some digging. Why are you asking?”

“Just wondering about him, is all.” I didn’t want to betray Ellie’s trust, so I kept it vague.

“This have anything to do with the way she flinched when I put my hand on her shoulder at Maggie’s yesterday?”

Liam didn’t miss a thing. He was ex-military, sharp as hell, and had a talent for reading people. Body language was his specialty. He could tell you more about a person’s emotional state in a minute than most would catch in a lifetime.

“I’ll tell you more once I can,” I promised.

“No problem. I’ll call you when I find something,” he said before hanging up.

I let out a slow breath, running a hand over my face before heading to the kitchen. I wasn’t sure if I was actually hungry or just needed something to do with my hands, but I started looking through the fridge anyways.

Chicken, carrots, celery, one white onion, and butter were all neatly stacked together on the same shelf—the ingredients for the chicken and dumplings Ellie had planned on making tonight.

I grabbed the items and set them on the counter. I started with the chicken, cutting it into chunks and placing them in a bowl. Then I peeled the carrots, chopped the celery, and diced the onion.

After melting butter in a large pot on the stove, I added the vegetables, stirring them as they began to soften. The scent of cooking vegetables filled the kitchen as I moved efficiently from one step to the next, following the process from memory.

Once the vegetables were ready, I added the chicken to the pot, letting it brown lightly before pouring in chicken broth and bringing everything to a simmer.

I pulled out flour and baking powder, starting on the dumplings next, trying to keep my hands busy.

By the time I finished mixing the ingredients to make the biscuits and placing them on top of the pot to cook, Ellie walked in.

She wore loose sleeping shorts and a plain white T-shirt, her damp hair curling slightly now that it was wet. The shorts showed off her lean, tan legs—the hem just short enough to leave a man guessing about what lay beneath the surface.

Shifting slightly, I used the counter to cover my lap, hoping she wouldn’t notice the situation stirring in my jeans.

“How was your bath?” I asked, keeping my voice steady.

“Very relaxing, actually. Just what I needed. It was kind of hard to get up and out of the bath, but I managed,” she said .

I forced a small nod, trying to keep my mind on her words and not her body.

“This smells amazing, Colt. I didn’t know you were a secret chef,” she joked, bumping her hip into mine.

The closer she got to me, the less oxygen there was in the air.

“Uhh. Well, I just kind of went off memory from watching my mom make it a bunch of times. I hope it tastes as good as it smells.”

Ellie grabbed two bowls from the cabinet, extra slow so she didn't overextend her hurt shoulder, and placed them on the counter next to the stove.

“Didn’t think my first dinner in the guesthouse would be shared with the one and only Colt McKinley, and he cooked it too. What did I do to deserve such princess treatment?”

“Well, for starters, you got bucked off a horse about two hours ago,” I said with a chuckle, trying to stay serious.

“Which leads me to my next point—you’re not allowed to get back on a horse without someone riding with you.

I know I sound like an ass right now, but if I hadn’t been watching, no one would have known you were out there, and things could have ended a lot worse.

It’s not about controlling you. It’s about protecting you. ”

She looked at me, eyes squinted. I suspected she was contemplating how hard-headed she wanted to be in the moment.

“You were watching me ride?”

Busted .

“Don’t make me sound like some creepy stalker,” I said, trying to steer the conversation anywhere but where it was going.

“Well, are you one?” she asked playfully.

“I just so happened to come back when you were leaving the stables on Sunflower. What can I say? Curiosity killed the cat.” I filled both bowls with chicken and dumplings, then held one out to Ellie.

“You’re telling me,” she said, accepting the bowl. “Fine. I won’t ride alone again.” She lifted a spoonful, blowing on it before putting it into her mouth.

Her eyes widened in surprise.

“Colt, this is so good. Like really good. I need you to write your recipe down for me, word for word,” she demanded playfully.

“As long as you promise not to give me another heart attack ever again, like you did today.”

“Gotta keep you on your toes,” she said, winking at me.

“I’m a cowboy, not a ballerina. I like my feet planted firmly on the ground,” I said, shooting her a crooked grin.

“Suit yourself,” she said, shrugging.

After dinner, Ellie went to the bathroom to find some pain medicine to take before bed. While she did that, I washed the dishes.

As I finished stacking the clean dishes on the drying rack, Ellie walked back into the kitchen.

She gave me a soft smile. “I came to tell you goodnight before I went to bed.”

“Remember, if you need me, I’ll be in here all night,” I said, heading towards the couch that would be my makeshift bed. “And I mean it. If you start feeling bad, wake me up.”

Ellie walked up to me and gave me a hug, catching me off guard. After a few seconds, I hugged her back, careful not to cause any more pain.

“Goodnight, Colt.”

“Goodnight, El.”

Falling asleep was nearly impossible. I lay on the couch for a few hours, not sleepy at all.

Everything Ellie had told me and all the bruises I had seen kept replaying in my head.

I couldn’t believe she thought I was disappointed in her. If anything, I was disappointed in myself.

Maybe if I’d told her how I really felt all those years ago—if I hadn’t chickened out that night—she would have stayed in Silver Creek, and none of this would have happened.

After several mental replays of the day’s events, I finally drifted off to sleep.

When I did, I dreamed of Ellie.

Most summers, Ellie, Jace, Molly, and I spent our hottest days down at the lake on the far end of the ranch.

But on this particular afternoon, Jace and Molly were away at an overnight summer camp, leaving just Ellie and me with nothing to do.

After a few minutes of contemplating, we grabbed two fishing poles, a quilt from the linen closet, and a picnic basket filled with sandwiches.

I was in the mood for fishing, but Ellie wanted to read her new Nicholas Sparks novel, so I lugged the fishing poles in one hand and the picnic basket in the other—Ellie’s book tucked safely inside—and we headed down to the water .

After two hours of catching nothing but frustration, I gave up and climbed back up the hill, dropping onto the quilt beside Ellie with a sigh.

“What are you reading over there?” I asked, stretching out my legs.

She glanced up, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

“Well, I’m only halfway through, but from what I can tell, it’s about two people who write letters to each other, confessing their love. They each lock their letter in a bottle and throw it into the ocean without knowing the other has done the same.”

I hummed, considering it. “Like a message in a bottle. Sounds interesting.”

Ellie held out the book. “You can take it when I’m done if you want to read it.”

I snorted, shaking my head. “Ellie, there’s a reason I was born a cowboy and not a poet. I’ll just take your word for it.”

She rolled her eyes. “Come on, Colt. I know, deep down, if you really wanted to, you could do it. Poetry—writing—it’s all about emotion,” she said, clutching her chest dramatically.

I smirked. “I’m pretty sure that’s what hell is like—writing poetry about love.”

She laughed, nudging me with her shoulder. “Oh, come on. I bet you can do it. Let’s try.”

I quirked an eyebrow and examined her face, trying to determine if she was serious or not.

“Tell me what you love most about your parents,” she said, confirming that she was .

“Well, I guess I love the way they put everyone else first. They make sure we always have what we need, even when it’s hard.”

“Great answer. Now, what do you love most about Molly and Jace?” she continued.

I paused for a moment, contemplating.

“I love that they always have my back, no matter what. I can count on them to be there when I need them.”

“Exactly. Now, last but certainly not least, what do you love most about me?” she asked jokingly, not expecting me to give an answer.

“Everything,” I said without hesitation.

She looked at me suddenly, my quick response surprising her.

I reached for one of the glass Coca-Cola bottles, popping the cap off with a pocketknife before handing it to her, trying to break the awkward moment up. I took a long sip to buy myself more time.

“You ever thought about it, though?” she asked after a moment, tucking her bare feet under her legs.

“About what?”

“Writing something down. Not for anyone else, just for yourself.”

I gave her a sideways glance. “Can’t say I have.”

“I think you’d be good at it. You don’t talk much, but I know there’s a lot going on in that head of yours Colt McKinley.”

I chuckled. “Yeah, well, I prefer to keep it there.”

Ellie just shook her head, smiling to herself as she turned back to her book .

I watched her for a second—how the sunlight caught the golden strands in her hair, the way she absentmindedly bit her lip as she read.

She always had her nose buried in a book, lost in some world that wasn’t ours.

But a sharp cry suddenly jolted me from my dream.

“Stop! Let go of me!”

Ellie.

The panic in her voice had me on my feet in an instant, heart pounding as I rushed towards her room. I shoved the door open, ready for a fight, but there was no one else there.

Ellie was still asleep.

She twisted and turned, tangling herself in the sheets, her face twisted in fear. “Please… help,” she whimpered, lost in whatever nightmare had its claws in her.

Crossing the room, I pulled the blanket back and eased onto the bed beside her, wrapping my arms around her.

I held her close, gently rocking her awake.

“Ellie, it’s okay,” I murmured against her hair. “I’m here. You’re safe.”

Her body jerked once more, then suddenly stilled. A shaky breath left her as her eyes fluttered open, wild and disoriented. Sweat clung to her forehead, her chest rising and falling too fast.

“You’re okay,” I whispered again, brushing damp hair from her face.

She blinked, her breathing still uneven as she exhaled shakily, rubbing a hand over her face.

“It felt so real,” she whispered .

“I know,” I said. “But it wasn’t. You’re here. You’re safe.”

She released another breath, slower this time, and I felt the tension in her body ease.

“Will you stay?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Yes,” I said without hesitation. She shifted her body into mine and closed her eyes.

I let out a quiet breath, resting my chin on the top of her head, and I stayed like that, holding her body close against mine until morning.