Page 137 of Finding His Redemption

His jaw flexed under her hand, and his eyes went hot and fierce. “Over my dead body.”

This man would kill for her, would die for her, and somehow that didn’t scare her. Instead, it filled her with a warmth that spread through her chest and settled deep in her bones.

Alek was dead. The shadow that had haunted her for years was gone.

She was free.

She buried her face against his chest, her fingers digging into the solid muscle of his back as the first sob tore from her throat. All the fear, all the vigilance, all the looking over her shoulder—it was over. Oliver would never have to run again. She would never have to teach him a new name, a new story, a new life.

“It’s okay,” Jax murmured against her hair. “Let it out.”

And she did.

chapter

forty

Nessie ranher fingers along the blackened edge of what used to be her favorite display case. The glass had shattered in the heat, but the wooden frame remained, scorched but stubbornly intact. Like me, she thought, tracing the warped edge where fire had tried to devour it. Beaten down but not broken. Two weeks since Brandt had delivered the news of Alek’s death, and she still caught herself looking over her shoulder, still startled at sudden noises. Old habits died harder than ex-husbands, apparently.

She stepped carefully through the debris, salvaging what she could. The fire had been concentrated in the kitchen, but smoke and water damage had touched everything. The pink Formica countertops were stained with soot. The faded checkered floor tiles were warped from the firefighters’ hoses. But the building’s bones were sound. The fire marshal had confirmed that yesterday, giving her the all-clear to begin cleanup.

The insurance money would cover most of the repairs, but not all. Still, it was more than she’d had when she first arrived in Solace with nothing but a new identity and Oliver’s hand in hers.

Nessie set down her box of salvaged utensils and straightened, pressing her palm against the small of her back. Through the front window, she watched Jax and Oliver carefullyloading bags of feed into a Valor Ridge truck while Echo supervised from the sidewalk. The dog never let Oliver out of her sight these days. She’d appointed herself his protector, and Nessie couldn’t be more grateful.

Oliver was laughing at something Jax had said, his whole face lighting up. He looked happier than she’d seen him in years. Maybe ever. The ranch had been good for him—the wide-open spaces, the animals, the daily routine of chores that made him feel important and needed.

And Jax...

God, Jax had been everything. Patient, steady, there for both of them in ways she hadn’t known were possible.

She watched as he ruffled Oliver’s hair, then helped him carry a heavy bag. Her son was soaking up every bit of male attention like a plant that had been kept too long in the dark. And Jax seemed to blossom under Oliver’s adoration, too, standing taller, smiling more. They were healing each other.

Nessie turned back to the bakery, surveying the work ahead. It would take months to get it all back to working order, but she already had plans forming. Not just to restore, but to improve. The pink countertops would go, replaced with butcher block that Jonah had offered to help her install. The dining area would be expanded into the small storeroom, making space for more tables. She might even add a small children’s corner with books and toys.

She’d sketched it all out last night, sitting on the cabin porch while Jax and Oliver hunted for constellations in the vast Montana sky. For the first time in a long time, she’d let herself plan beyond next week, beyond next month. She’d allowed herself to think in terms of years. A life. A future.

“How’s it looking in here?” Jax’s voice pulled her from her thoughts. He stood in the doorway, silhouetted against the bright afternoon light.

“Better than I expected,” she said, brushing dust from her hands. “The insurance adjuster says I should have the first check by next week.”

He stepped inside, careful where he placed his boots. “Walker says the guys want to help with the rebuild. Ghost’s already talking about rewiring the whole place. And I’m getting you that espresso machine you’ve been drooling over.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“They want to.” He moved closer, taking her dust-streaked hands in his. “I want to.”

The simple declaration made her throat tight. She’d spent so many years alone, convinced that asking for help was a weakness Alek would exploit. Even in Solace, she’d kept herself separate, friendly but guarded. And now here was this man, these men, offering to rebuild her world from the ashes without expecting anything in return.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

Jax’s thumb brushed over her knuckles. “You’re part of us now. Like it or not.”

“I like it.” She stepped into the circle of his arms, resting her cheek against his chest. His heartbeat was steady under her ear, strong and sure. “I like it a lot.”

They stood like that for a long moment, his chin resting on top of her head, her arms wrapped around his waist. Through the window, she could see Oliver sitting in the truck bed, Echo at his side, his legs dangling as he chatted with Margery Pendry on the sidewalk. Just a normal kid on a normal day. No need to look over his shoulder anymore.

“I’ve been thinking,” she said, the words muffled against Jax’s shirt. “Maybe instead of rebuilding the apartment, Oliver and I could stay at the ranch. Walker offered to let us rent the cabin.” She pulled back to see his face. “If you want us there.”