Page 17 of Stalked By the Rancher

"Stop hurting each other!" Nora's plea's desperate, her voice shattering against the wooden beams above.

Her face is a canvas of fear and anguish, tears streaking down her cheeks, and it stabs at me sharper than any punch ever could. This ain't what I wanted—for her to witness her world, her men, her heart, clashing in a violent dance meant for enemies, not lovers, not family.

"Enough!" The word explodes from her lips, and everything freezes for a heartbeat—my fist midair, Edward's face a mask of rage, the dust swirling around us like specters.

A sob breaks from her chest, raw and ragged, slicing through the chaos. It's the sound of breaking—her heart, my resolve, the very earth beneath our feet.

"Please," she whimpers, and God, if that plea doesn't bring me to my knees.

I shove Edward hard, and he stumbles back. Blood tastes like iron in my mouth, and I swipe at the trickle leaking from my split lip. My chest rises and falls like I've been running miles instead of trading blows with a man old enough to know better. But hell, I should've known better too.

"Look what you've done!" Nora cries out, her voice trembling worse than a leaf in a storm.

Her eyes—those big, soulful ones that hooked me from day one—are wide with shock and glistening with unshed tears. It's like looking into a mirror that reflects all my screw-ups, and it hits me square in the chest. I may have just lost her.

"Baby, I—" I start, but words are damn useless now.

She doesn't wait for me to stitch together some apology. With a heart-wrenching sob, she turns on her heel, a blur of sun-kissed hair and raw emotion, tearing out the barn door faster than a spooked colt. Her small figure gets swallowed up by the sprawling ranch outside, leaving nothing but dust devils dancing in her wake.

"Damn it, Edward," I growl, glaring at him through the haze of pain and regret. "You pushed her to this."

"Me?" He's panting, disbelief etched across his aging features. "You're the one who?—"

"Enough!" I cut him off because if I hear one more word, I might just take a swing at my own reflection next.

The barn feels hauntingly empty without Nora's presence, her absence a void no amount of anger can fill. I'm left standing there, my fists still balled at my sides, the taste of blood and fear thick on my tongue. The silence throbs louder than any punch ever could, and I can't shake the feeling that I've messed up in ways that can't be punched or kissed away.

"Shit." I whisper, the word as broken as the scene before me.

I’ve got to go after her. She could get hurt. She’s in no right mind to be running off on her own.

I burst out the barn door, boots kicking up dust and heart hammering against my ribs like it's trying to break free. Panic is a wildfire in my veins, burning me up as I scan the sprawling ranch for any sign of her.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," I mutter under my breath, every curse a prayer that she hasn't gone far. The horizon stretches out, taunting me with its vastness, hiding Nora somewhere in its golden waves.

"Noraaa!" My voice rips from my throat, raw and desperate. It echoes back at me, empty and unanswered. She could be anywhere, hidden by the rolling hills or tucked away in one of the countless nooks on Blackwood land.

I sprint past the stables, my eyes flicking over each fence and thicket, searching for that familiar glint of sunlit hair, aching for a glimpse of her lithe frame. I know every inch of this goddamn property, but right now it feels like foreign territory, every second without her stretching into an eternity.

As I round the bend near the old oak grove, my breath hitches. There's a spot there, a secret place tangled with wildflowers and shaded by ancient branches, where I once caught Nora staring out at the sunset, her face awash with peace. It calls to me now, whispering promises of refuge and solace.

My jog slows to a walk as I approach, every step filled with dread and hope fighting for dominance. Then I see her, a small figure crumpled at the base of an oak tree, her body shaking with sobs that cut through the still air.

"Ah, hell, Nora." The sight of her, so broken and alone, tears at something inside me, fierce and sharp. Her vulnerability, laid bare among the wildflowers, is a punch straight to the gut.

She doesn't notice me at first, too lost in her own world of hurt. I crouch down beside her, close enough to reach out but too shaken to touch. Her sobs are a gut-wrenching melody, and every tear that falls is an accusation, a reminder of the chaos I've caused.

"Shit, Nora," I mutter under my breath as relief floods through me, so potent it's damn near crippling. I can't lose her, won't let that happen.

She's a sight, all vulnerability and raw beauty, and it hits me hard in the chest. My girl, out here alone, because of me. My determination kicks in, fierce as a prairie fire. I'm gonna fix this, make everything right for her.

"Hey," I call out softly, not wanting to startle her more than she already is.

Nora's head snaps up, and our eyes lock. Hers are swimming with tears, making my heart lurch painfully. But there's more—pain mixed with something that looks a heck of a lot like longing. It's a punch in the gut, that look. She's torn up inside, just like me.

I take a hesitant step forward, my hand outstretched like I'm trying to catch a spooked mare. "Nora, listen to me, please."

She's looking at me, really looking, and it's like she can see straight into the mess that's my heart. The place where her name is carved deep.

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