Page 27 of Montana Justice

Piper

The warmth from the fireplace mixed with laughter and conversation, creating a cocoon of belonging I’d never experienced before.

I sat at the massive dining table in the Resting Warrior Ranch lodge, surrounded by people who’d welcomed me without question, and tried not to cry from the sheer overwhelming normalcy of it all.

This was what family really meant. Not blood relations who used and discarded you, who saw children as possessions or pawns.

But people who chose you, who passed your baby around like he’d always been part of their circle, who noticed the slightest tension in your shoulders and immediately handed him back without making you ask.

“More lasagna?” Emma appeared at my elbow with a serving spoon poised over my already full plate.

“I couldn’t possibly.” I pressed a hand to my stomach, genuinely stuffed for maybe the third time in my life. “I’ve already had two helpings.”

“That’s what you’re supposed to do at family dinner,” Evelyn said from across the table, bouncing her toddler on her knee. “Eat until you hate yourself a little, then have dessert anyway.”

“Speaking of which,” Daniel called out, “who made the apple pie? Because I need to know who to worship for the scent coming out of the kitchen.”

“That would be Jada,” Lena said, pointing with her fork. “Girl’s got hidden depths.”

Jada flushed under the attention. “It’s just following a recipe.”

“Following a recipe, my ass,” Hunter said, grabbing his fiancée Jada by the same part of the anatomy, then quickly added, “Sorry, kids,” when several small heads turned his way.

Some meat fell on the floor, and a couple of dogs scampered over to see if they could get it.

“Remember when Thunder decided he was afraid of butterflies?” Lark’s voice carried from the other end of the table. “This massive security dog, trained to take down armed intruders, running in circles because a monarch landed on his nose?”

“That wasn’t as bad as when Duchess figured out how to unlock her stall,” someone else chimed in. “Found her in the feed room at three a.m., looking guilty as hell with grain all over her muzzle.”

“Like a teenager caught raiding the fridge,” Beckett added, grinning.

More stories flowed—about escape artist goats, a therapy cat who’d appointed himself supervisor of all barn activities, and several about an alpaca named Al Pacacino. Each tale was told with affection for the animals who’d become more than just part of their work.

“All right, all right,” Lucas finally said, standing up. “Who’s ready for dessert?”

A chorus of agreement rose from around the table. Several of the men headed toward the kitchen, Lachlan among them. He squeezed my shoulder as he passed, and I turned to press a kiss to his hand—a gesture that felt both natural and impossible.

The moment his skin left mine, Caleb started fussing. His hungry cry.

“I’m going to step out on the porch,” I told Lachlan quietly. “Feed him where it’s quieter.”

“Want me to come with you?”

“No, stay.” I nodded toward where Zeke was already making his way over, eyes fixed on Lachlan’s shiny badge. “You’ve got a fan.”

“Badge, Unca Lock!” Zeke announced, reaching up with grabby hands.

Lachlan’s face softened as he knelt down to the toddler’s level. “Want to see? Got to be very careful, though.”

I slipped out through the French doors onto the lodge’s back deck, the cool night air a relief after the warmth inside. October in Montana meant crisp evenings that warned of winter’s approach. Soon, it would be too cold for moments like this.

I settled into one of the wooden rockers, adjusting Caleb against my chest. He latched immediately, those dark eyes—so like his father’s—staring up at me with absolute trust. The sounds of laughter and clinking dishes filtered through the windows, muffled but still present. Still welcoming.

For just this moment, I let myself believe this could be my life. This could be my family, my place, my?—

“Hello, daughter. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you belonged in that little party.”

The voice came from the shadows beyond the porch light, and every drop of warmth fled my body. Ray stepped forward just enough for me to see his face, but not enough for anyone inside to spot him through the windows.

“Don’t make a sound,” he said conversationally, like we were discussing the weather. “Just sit there with that baby and listen.”

My arms tightened around Caleb instinctively. He made a small protest noise at the change in pressure, and I forced myself to relax, to keep nursing him like my world wasn’t crumbling.

“What you’ve done so far has been okay,” Ray continued, moving closer but still staying in the shadows. “But I need more. Real intel. The kind that comes from being in the room when plans are made.”

“I can’t.” The words came out as barely a whisper. “There’s no way to get more without Lachlan realizing I’m the one?—”

“Betraying him?” Ray’s laugh was soft and cruel. “Oh, sweetheart. You crossed that bridge the moment you spread your legs for him. Everything since has just been details.”

Shame flooded through me, hot and sick. Caleb pulled away from my breast, his feeding disturbed by my distress. I quickly adjusted my shirt and lifted him to my shoulder, patting his back with a shaking hand.

“I have something that will help.” Ray pulled a small box from his pocket.

Even in the dim light, I could see it was a watch box.

Expensive-looking. “You’re going to give this to lover boy.

Tell him you bought it for him with your paycheck or some shit.

I’ve seen how he looks at you—like the sun shines out of your ass. He’ll wear it.”

“What is it?”

“Recording device. He wears it to meetings, I get the intel I need, everybody wins.”

“Ray, please?—”

“Except there is no winning for whores, is there?” His voice dropped to that dangerous whisper I’d learned to fear as a child. “But you already knew that. Take the watch, Piper. Give it to him tonight. Or I stop being so nice about our arrangement.”

He set the box on the small table beside my chair and melted back into the darkness. I sat frozen, listening to his footsteps fade away, Caleb warm and trusting against my shoulder.

The French doors opened, and Lachlan stepped out. If he’d come outside thirty seconds earlier—even twenty—he would have caught Ray.

But that was it, wasn’t it? Even catching Ray wouldn’t have ended this hell. It would’ve just made it worse.

“Hey.” His voice was soft with concern. “You okay?”

I realized I was crying. When had I started crying? I wiped at my cheeks with my free hand, trying to pull myself together.

“What’s wrong?” He crouched beside my chair, one hand gentle on my knee. “Talk to me, Piper.”

“It’s nothing.” The lie tasted like dirt in my mouth. “I just… I was nervous about giving you something.”

“Giving me something?”

My hand shook as I reached for the box Ray had left. The weight of it felt enormous, like holding my own death sentence. “I bought this for you. I wanted… I wanted to thank you. For everything.”

I couldn’t look at him as I held out the box. Couldn’t watch his face as he opened it, couldn’t see the pleasure in his eyes at what he thought was a gesture of affection instead of the ultimate betrayal.

“Piper.” His voice was thick with emotion. “You didn’t have to. This must have cost?—”

“Please.” I still couldn’t look at him. “Just…please.”

I heard the box open, heard his soft intake of breath. “It’s perfect. I can’t believe you spent your money on this. I’ll treasure it.”

The sincerity in his voice broke something inside me. I forced myself to look as he fastened the watch around his wrist, the silver gleaming in the porch light. It looked good on him. Looked like something he’d chosen himself.

“Thank you,” he said, leaning in to kiss me.

I turned my head at the last second, his lips landing on my cheek instead of my mouth. If he noticed the rejection, he didn’t comment.

“I should tell you,” he said, still crouched beside me, “I have to go back to a meeting after this. Work stuff. I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.” The words came out too quickly. “Actually, would it be okay if I sleep in the guest room tonight? So we don’t wake Caleb when you come in?”

Something flickered across his face—hurt, maybe, or confusion. But he nodded. “Of course. Whatever you need.”

Whatever I need. I needed to not exist. I needed to have never been born, never have contaminated his life with my presence.

I felt filthy, dirtied by Ray’s visit, by what I’d just done.

The thought of Lachlan touching me—noble, honorable Lachlan with his friends who were more like family, with his genuine goodness—made me want to claw my own skin off.

“We should get back inside,” he said, standing. “They’ll be wondering where we are.”

I nodded, not trusting my voice. As I stood, Caleb stirred against my shoulder, making soft baby sounds. Pure and innocent and untouched by the taint that ran in his mother’s veins.

I followed Lachlan back into the warmth and light of the lodge, where dessert was being served and children were getting sleepy and conversations had reached that comfortable rhythm of people who knew one another well. Back into the fairy tale I’d been foolish enough to believe might be real.

But fairy tales weren’t for people like me. They were for people who deserved good things, who didn’t carry destruction in their DNA, who could accept love without weaponizing it.

I sat back down at the table, smiled at the right moments, even managed to eat a few bites of Jada’s apple pie. But inside, I was already gone. Already running even while sitting perfectly still.

Because that’s what we Matthews did. We destroyed everything we touched.

And now, with that watch ticking on Lachlan’s wrist, I’d just delivered the killing blow to the only good thing I’d ever had.