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Callum stepped into the kitchen, his boots scuffing lightly against the worn hardwood floor. The scent of coffee lingered in the air, but it was the sight of Sloane by the dishwasher that brought a flicker of warmth to his chest. She was upright, moving—a far cry from the pale, bedridden figure she’d been for the past two days.

“Well, look who’s up and about,” he said, his voice soft enough to avoid startling her. A smile tugged at his lips. “You’re looking better today.”

Sloane glanced over her shoulder, a small, shy smile curving her lips. “I’m feeling better,” she admitted, her voice steady but tinged with the lingering weight of exhaustion. Her hands worked methodically, loading dishes into the dishwasher with the kind of determination that made Callum’s heart ache.

He approached slowly, watching her. There was a quiet strength in her movements, a resolve to reclaim control. But he couldn’t ignore the way her shoulders still seemed too fragile or the faint tremor in her hand as she reached for a plate.

“You sure you shouldn’t still be resting? I can load the dishes.” He leaned against the counter. “You don’t want to overdo it.”

“Resting only makes me feel worse,” she said, not pausing in her task. “I needed to do something. Anything.”

Callum nodded, understanding the need to keep moving, to push past the shadows of helplessness. “Fair enough. But take it easy. No heroics in the kitchen, all right? I don’t want to see you juggling plates or leaping over the island.”

She chuckled softly, the sound like a faint chime in the quiet. “I’ll try.”

He moved closer to help her, and for a moment, they worked in companionable silence, his eyes lingering on her. Maybe now, he could get answers to some of the questions that had been burning a hole in his gut. He hadn’t wanted to press her while she was barely doing more than sleeping, but now that she was up and about…

“I’ve been meaning to ask. How did you find me?”

She stilled, her hand hovering over a glass. Her expression tightened for a heartbeat before she placed the glass carefully in the rack. “I remembered Oak Creek from our talks. This was the only one in Wyoming near the Teton Mountains, so I figured this must be it.”

That made sense. “How’d you end up in my yard?”

“I asked around,” she said, her voice measured. “Someone mentioned you lived out this way. I wasn’t sure if you’d want to see me, so I didn’t want to just knock on the door…”

“Next time, know I have no problem with you knocking on my door. I’d hate for you to wander around here and end up in one of the thousands of bear traps.”

Those blue eyes got big. “Bear traps? Really?”

He grinned. “No. But I would prefer not to tackle you anymore, so let’s plan on using the door from here on out.”

“Deal.”

“And I noticed there’s no car parked anywhere around,” he said. “How’d you manage to get here?”

She hesitated, then shrugged. “Hitchhiked most of the way from Seattle. Walked from town.”

“You hitchhiked across three states?” A surge of anger and worry tightened his chest. Hitchhiking . The thought of her out on those lonely roads, vulnerable, made his jaw clench. He forced his voice to stay calm. “Sloane, that’s…dangerous.”

“I didn’t have a car and didn’t have much money, so I did what I had to do,” she replied evenly, meeting his gaze with quiet defiance. “I’ll try not to do it again.”

Try . Meaning, if she had to, she would once again put her safety at risk. There was both a desperation and a determination in her words and appearance. One he didn’t totally understand.

Callum exhaled sharply but let it go. He didn’t want to push too hard, not when she was just starting to regain her footing. “What about your things? I didn’t see a bag either.”

She’d been sleeping in one of his T-shirts for the past two days. Although now, she had on the jeans and sweater he’d tackled her in. He’d washed them while she was out but hadn’t found any other clothes, even when he’d gone back out on his property to search and see if she’d stashed a suitcase somewhere.

“No bag,” she said, her tone flat.

She didn’t elaborate, and he didn’t press. Whatever she’d left behind, it was clear she wasn’t ready to revisit it.

He leaned closer. She didn’t want to talk about any of this; that much was obvious. But he had to ask. “Why here, Sloane? Why now? I haven’t heard anything from you in two months, and then you just show up.”

Her expression flickered, and she looked down at the counter, her hands stilling. “I couldn’t stay home anymore.”

“Do those bruises have anything to do with that?”

She looked down at her arms. “Yes and no.”

The thought of somebody hurting her…

“Nobody was abusing me at home, if that’s what you mean,” she continued. “But I did get these from climbing out my window to leave.”

Climbing out her window? That meant she’d snuck out.

“So, your family doesn’t know you’re here? That you left at all?”

“I assume they know by now that I left. But I doubt they care. You know my father wouldn’t even…” She swallowed hard. “He wouldn’t even pay the ransom to the kidnappers to get me back.”

There was no way to fix that. Nothing he could say that would make her understand that William Getty’s actions said nothing except he was a Grade A asshole. “Sloane…”

“If you don’t want me here, I understand. I needed a place to go, and Oak Creek kept coming to my mind. The way you described it has lived rent-free in my mind for weeks. But if you don’t want?—”

“Stop.” He stepped closer, his voice low and steady. “I’m glad you’re here. You did the right thing coming here. Whatever you need, we’ll work it out. Okay?”

The tension in her shoulders eased, and she turned to him, her eyes softening. “Thank you, Callum.”

Without thinking, he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her. She froze for a moment, then melted into the embrace, her head resting against his chest.

Callum closed his eyes, letting himself savor the quiet connection. She felt small and warm against him, and for the first time in a long while, he felt something stir in the emptiness he’d grown used to. When they pulled back, the moment lingered between them, charged but unspoken.

Clearing his throat, he glanced toward the door. “Why don’t we get out of here for a bit?” he suggested. “Stretch our legs, get some fresh air. I’ll show you around the Oak Creek that is taking up so much of your brain power.”

Her smile widened slightly. “I’d like that very much.”

Callum turned the wheel, the familiar hum of his truck blending with the steady rhythm of the road beneath them. Beside him, Sloane sat quietly, her gaze fixed on the Wyoming landscape outside the window. He decided to take her by Linear Tactical before going into town since Oak Creek had sort of built up around the survival and defense school.

She pressed her hand against the window, her breath fogging the glass as her eyes darted to the sprawling property just off the main road. Linear Tactical’s training facility stood like a sentinel, blending seamlessly with the surrounding wilderness. Callum slowed the truck as they passed, letting her take it all in.

“That’s Linear Tactical,” he said, glancing her way. “Theo Lindstrom runs it now. He was with me in Moldova, remember?”

She nodded. “What do they do here?”

“A mix of things. It started out as part survival school—weapons and self-defense training. In the past few years, it has also expanded to include animal therapy to help people with PTSD.”

She turned to him, eyes serious. “That’s impressive.”

“Zac Mackay, Dr. Annie’s husband, is one of the original founders. He started it with a group of other former Special Forces soldiers. They’re the kind of people you want in your corner when things go south.”

“You sound like you admire them,” Sloane said softly.

“I do. They’ve done a lot of good for this community. I knew them all before moving here.”

They drove on, into Oak Creek proper. He pointed out the sheriff’s office where he worked and the Frontier Diner, a local favorite. He could tell she remembered it from their talks in Moldova. She asked him questions about the people and some of the other buildings, seeming genuinely interested.

As they continued down Main Street, Callum noticed her clothes again. As much as he liked her sleeping in his T-shirts, if she truly didn’t have anything else to wear, now was the perfect time to get her something.

“You know,” he began casually, “we should stop by the general store. Pick up a few things you might need.”

She hesitated. “Oh, I don’t want to be any trouble.”

“No trouble at all,” he assured her, already pulling into a parking spot. “Come on.”

Inside, the store was a cozy maze of wooden shelves stocked with everything from flannel shirts to fresh produce. Callum grabbed a basket and started adding items—clothes, toiletries, and other essentials. Sloane trailed behind, her expression growing increasingly anxious.

“Callum, this is too much,” she protested, trying to put a shirt back on the rack.

He gently took it from her and placed it back in the basket. “You need these, Sloane.”

She shook her head, her cheeks flushing. “I can’t afford all this.”

He met her gaze. “Let me take care of it.”

“I can’t let you do that,” she insisted, her voice barely above a whisper. “You’re…you’re not responsible for me.”

He almost argued that he wanted to take care of her. That, no, he wasn’t responsible for her, and that he didn’t even understand exactly what was going on, but that he wanted to help .

She needed this stuff, and he needed to figure out a way to get it for her that she could accept.

“How about this—you let me pay now, and you can pay me back later. We’ll keep the receipt so you can keep track.”

She considered that, then nodded slowly. “All right. But I will pay you back.”

“I don’t doubt it for a second.” Although he wished he could make her understand that he wouldn’t mind if she didn’t.

As they walked back to the truck, Sloane’s gaze drifted toward the edge of town, where a rustic sign marked the entrance to the Eagle’s Nest. “That’s the place you told me about, isn’t it? The one with the Electric Smurf?”

Callum grinned. “Yeah. Are you hungry? They’re open for meals during the day.”

“Actually, yes, I’m a little hungry.”

Good. He wanted to feed her more. She was still too thin. He pulled into the gravel lot, and they stepped inside the cozy pub. Callum was so used to coming in here that he barely took in the details anymore. But with Sloane, he was much more aware of particulars. The scent of wood smoke and grilled food greeted them, along with the faint hum of conversation. It was a good, friendly place.

Callum spotted Hudson Zimmerman, who had taken over ownership of the bar a few years ago when he’d moved back home, putting away some glasses behind the bar. Bear was back there too, chatting with a customer.

“Hey, Callum,” Hudson called, hand raised. “Good to see you.”

Callum nodded. “You too. Hudson, this is Sloane. She’s new in town.”

Hudson offered a warm smile. “Welcome to Oak Creek, Sloane.”

Bear came over from behind the bar. He looked like he might hug Sloane but then thought better of it and offered his hand to her instead. “Sloane, good to see you again. I didn’t know you were coming to Oak Creek.”

She took his hand, giving him a shy smile. “I didn’t know I was coming either. It’s good to see you too. I never got a chance to thank you for getting Marissa to safety in Moldova. And, knowing her, she probably didn’t say thanks either.”

Bear grimaced. “I have to admit, when I first saw you come in the door, I thought you were Marissa.”

“Did you have to fight the urge to run for the hills?”

Bear let out a bark of laughter. “Maybe.”

Bear headed back to the bar to help some customers, and Callum led Sloane to a booth near the window. When the waitress came by, they ordered their food, Callum being sure to include an Electric Smurf, despite the early hour. He couldn’t wait to see Sloane drink it.

When the vibrant blue drink arrived, she tilted her head, eyeing it with amusement. “This is the drink that has caused so many problems?” She studied it curiously. “Well, it certainly lives up to its electric name.”

He chuckled. “Go on, give it a try.”

She lifted the glass to her lips but then hesitated. “Actually, Dr. Annie suggested I avoid alcohol and, um, spicy foods until I’m…feeling better.”

He had no idea why he was disappointed by her reluctance to try the drink, especially for a completely logical reason. But he was.

“Yeah, another time, maybe.” Stop being a pussy, Webb. She doesn’t want to drink. Nothing wrong with that.

But then she shrugged. “Surely a tiny sip won’t hurt.”

She took a cautious sip, her eyes widening in surprise. “It’s…actually good. I like it.”

“Yep, that’s the biggest part of the problem.” He took the glass from her as she pushed it toward him, glad she at least tried it. “It looks crazy, but good judgment flies out the window with a couple of these in your system.”

“Sounds dangerous.”

“Maybe once Dr. Annie clears you tomorrow at your appointment, we can go out sometime and you can have a full one.”

“I…” She stared down at the drink, not meeting his eyes. “Yeah, maybe.”

Definite hesitation, but he didn’t know what it meant. Maybe she’d just been pretending to like the drink so it didn’t hurt his feelings? Maybe she didn’t plan to stay in Oak Creek long enough to get a drink?

Maybe she was saying she didn’t necessarily want to go have a drink with him .

He didn’t know. He just knew that, once again, there were things she wasn’t telling him.

Their food arrived, and as Sloane took her first bite of the burger, a look of pure bliss spread across her face. “This is incredible.”

Callum watched her with a mix of amusement and something deeper. The way she enjoyed the simple things—a good meal, a scenic view—reminded him of the afternoon they’d shared crème br?lée in Moldova. That same look of wonder had crossed her face then too.

And had caused the same reaction to his body. He wasn’t sure exactly what it said about him that he got hard seeing her enjoy herself, but he couldn’t deny it was true. Maybe it was because she had the same look on her face when they made love.

Fuck . He needed to stop thinking about that right damn now before he ended up with an imprint of his jeans’ zipper along his dick.

“You okay?” Sloane asked, her voice breaking through his thoughts.

He cleared his throat, shifting in his seat. “Yeah. Just glad you’re enjoying yourself.”

“Thank you, Callum. For everything.” She looked down at the bruises on her arms. “I know there’s a lot I haven’t told you. I…”

He reached over and grabbed her hand, stopping her. “It’s okay. Another time. Let’s just enjoy the Eagle’s Nest and obnoxious blue drinks. When you’re ready to talk about more, then we can. We’ll take it one day at a time.”

Callum didn’t know her plans and didn’t know if she did either. He didn’t even know of all the factors at play as she figured out her next steps. All he could do was offer whatever support he could. And not put any pressure on her to stay if that wasn’t what she wanted.

For right now, that would have to be enough.