Page 21 of Stalked By the Rancher

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.

"Every moment you're near, it's like I'm alive for the first time." My voice shakes, betraying the storm inside me. "It's raw and real, and damn it, Nora, I know I've screwed up, but I can't—won't—let you walk away from what we have."

Her eyes flit to my hand, still hanging in the air between us, and something flickers there. Hope? Fear? Both are so tangled up in us it's hard to tell.

"Your dad thinks I'm just some rough-around-the-edges rancher who's after one thing." I scoff lightly, trying to keep it light even though my insides are coiling tight with angst. "But hell, baby, he doesn't know that you're under my skin, you're in my bones. You're the fire in my blood."

She bites her lip, and I have to hold back a groan. That lip, those eyes—God, they've haunted my dreams more times than I can count.

"Every night," I continue, my hand now shaking so bad I have to lower it before she sees, "I lie awake thinking about you, about us. And yeah, maybe it's crazy fast and all-consuming, but when I touch you, when you look at me like you do...I know it's worth fighting for."

"Is it, Sawyer? Do you…do you love me?" Her voice is small, barely above a whisper, but it cuts through the silence like the sharpest blade.

"More than anything in this world," I admit, dead serious. "Without you, Nora, it's like someone turned off the damn sun."

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