Page 52

chapter

thirty-six

Oliver’s third night at the ranch, and the kid still wasn’t sleeping through.

Jax woke to the sound of him crying about his pets—the mangy strays that lived behind Nessie’s Place and the elaborate menagerie of imaginary animals he’d drawn on every scrap of paper in their old apartment.

Jesus. The kid was breaking his heart one piece at a time, and Jax couldn’t do a damn thing about it.

He rolled to find Nessie’s side of the bed empty and cold. How long had she been in with Oliver tonight?

Jax threw back the covers and dressed before crossing the hall of the Valor Ridge guest cabin.

Walker had been more than accommodating when he’d shown up with Nessie and Oliver in tow, all of them soot-streaked and reeking of smoke.

Walker had ordered the guys to clean out the biggest of the guest cabins, which usually sat empty because guests were a rarity at the ranch.

Then he sent word through town about what really happened to quash rumors, and the donations flooded in. Clothes, toiletries, toys for Oliver.

And all the while, he kept Sheriff Goodwin off their backs, banning him from the Valor Ridge property unless he showed up with a warrant.

In Jax’s estimation, Walker Nash should be sainted.

Warm yellow light spilled from Oliver’s room. He hesitated, then pushed the door open a crack, peeking in.

Oliver sat up in the narrow bed, big tears rolling down his face. Echo was draped over his legs like a furry security blanket, where she’d been every night since the fire.

“They’re probably so scared. And hungry. They don’t know where I went.”

Nessie sat on the edge of the bed, wrapped up in a donated robe, stroking Oliver’s hair. Dark circles shadowed her eyes, and Jax felt the familiar twist in his chest—the need to fix things, to make her world easier somehow. She’d been through enough without losing sleep over feral cats.

“We can check on them tomorrow,” she murmured, but Oliver shook his head.

“What if they’re already gone? What if they think I left them?”

The raw fear in the boy’s voice cut through Jax like a blade. “Hey, buddy,” he said softly. “What if I went and got them?”

Oliver’s head whipped around, tear-filled brown eyes wide with hope. “Really? All of them?”

“All of them.” Even the invisible ones. Especially the invisible ones. “But I’m gonna need some help. Think the guys would be up for a rescue mission?”

So that was how Jax found himself in the bunkhouse at dawn, explaining to seven grown men why they needed to help capture a bunch of feral cats and pretend to see a dragon.

“So let me get this straight,” River said, leaning against the scarred pool table and crossing his bunny-slipper clad feet in front of him. “You want us to round up actual cats and also... invisible cats?”

“It’s actually an invisible dragon. And an invisible chinchilla named Niblet who hates Tuesdays.”

River blinked, then shook his head and took a long drink from his coffee. “I haven’t had enough caffeine for this.”

“I’m in,” Anson said, economical with words as always, and Bear grumbled his agreement.

“Me, too,” Jonah added. “Little dude’s been through enough. If this helps him heal, I’ll wrangle ten invisible dragons.”

“Hell, I’d wrangle a real one,” X said.

“You can’t wrangle a fence post, Cartier Cowboy,” Jonah shot back.

Ghost looked up from his laptop, pale eyes moving between them. “How many cats are we talking about?”

“Three real ones,” Jax said. “Trouble, Princess Jellybean, and Socks. And whatever imaginary ones Oliver needs us to see.”

“Christ,” Ghost muttered, but Jax caught the slight curve of his mouth. “Fine. But I’m not chasing anything through a dumpster.”

“That’s what X is for,” River said cheerfully.

“Why me?”

“Because you’re the prettiest. Cats like pretty things.”

Boone, who’d been silent through the entire exchange, pushed off from where he’d been leaning against the wall. “We’ll need carriers. And probably some decent cat food to lure them in.”

“Already thought of that,” Jax said. “Dr. Garrison is lending us some carriers. Apparently, she’s got a thing for strays, too.”

“‘Course she does. Lila’s got a soft spot a mile wide,” River said with that knowing grin of his, turning to Boone. “She wouldn’t put up with that grump otherwise.”

Boone lifted his middle finger over his shoulder as he pushed out the door. “I’ll get the carriers and load the trucks.”

Within an hour, they were loaded into two trucks and headed for town. The morning air was crisp, carrying the scent of pine and the faint smell of smoke that still lingered over Solace.

Jax’s chest tightened as they turned onto Main Street and he got his first good look at what was left of Nessie’s Place.

The building was still standing, but the front windows were blown out, black scorch marks crawling up the brick walls like fingers.

Yellow tape cordoned off the area, and he could see a couple of investigators still poking through the debris.

The bakery was toast, but the apartment looked intact.

With any luck, most of it would be salvageable.

“Damn,” Jonah said quietly from the driver’s seat. “That’s rough.”

Jax’s hands clenched into fists on his thighs. Someone had done this. Someone had tried to burn Nessie and Oliver alive in their beds, and the bastard was still out there. The urge to find whoever was responsible and make them pay clawed at his throat like a living thing.

“Easy,” Jonah murmured, and Jax realized his breathing had gone shallow and fast. “We’ll find who did this.”

“Yeah,” Jax said, but his voice sounded hollow even to his own ears. “We will.”

They parked behind the hardware store, out of sight of the investigators. Cody’s truck was back in its usual spot, and thankfully, the man hadn’t made a fuss about Jax taking it. He’d even told the sheriff he’d loaned it to Nessie.

The alley behind the bakery was a mess of debris and standing water from the fire hoses, but the dumpster was still there, and so were Oliver’s strays.

All three cats huddled together on a stack of wooden pallets, fur matted and eyes wide with fear. They looked as traumatized as Jax felt.

“Poor little shits,” Bear said, his voice surprisingly gentle for a man who looked like he could bench press a truck. “They’re scared.”

“Can’t blame them,” X said, pulling on a pair of work gloves. “Their whole world just went up in flames.”

Jax knew the feeling.

The rescue operation took longer than expected.

Trouble, the gray tabby, lived up to his name by leading them on a twenty-minute chase through the debris field.

Princess Jellybean, the calico, had somehow wedged herself under the dumpster, and it took three men and a can of tuna to coax her out.

Socks, the black and white ones, were the easiest. He seemed to recognize that they were trying to help and walked right into the carrier.

“That’s all of them,” River said, wiping sweat from his forehead despite the cool morning air. “Now what about the invisible ones?”

Jax pulled out his phone and scrolled through the photos he’d taken of Oliver’s newest drawings.

“Toothless, the bearded dragon. He’s got a favorite spot under Oliver’s bed.

Niblet the chinchilla, who apparently lives in the kitchen cabinet.

And there’s a duck named Honkules who likes to perch on the windowsill. ”

“Right,” Anson said, like this was the most normal thing in the world. “I’ll get the dragon.”

“I’ve got the chinchilla,” Jonah volunteered.

“Bird’s mine,” River said, then paused. “Do invisible ducks make noise?”

“Only when they’re happy,” Jax said, remembering Oliver’s detailed explanations.

They spent another ten minutes carefully “capturing” the imaginary pets, making a show of coaxing them into empty carriers and speaking to them in soothing voices while X recorded the whole thing on his phone.

A couple of passersby stopped to stare, but the Valor Ridge guys didn’t seem to give a damn what anyone thought.

That was the thing about these men, Jax realized as he watched Bear gently “load” an invisible dragon into his truck. They’d all been written off by society at one point or another, so they’d stopped caring about looking normal.

They just did what needed doing.