“Where is she?” I growled to no one, snatching up the weapon with more force than necessary.

Back on the porch, I racked the gun with a sound that echoed my fury. I leveled it right at the approaching truck, ready to protect what was mine.

But then…there she was, a small figure next to him, barely visible through the dusty windshield.

I froze, the shotgun suddenly feeling like a lead weight in my hands. The engine cut, and silence fell between us, heavy as the dust settling around the tires of Gabe's truck. Livy hopped out, her backpack slung carelessly over one shoulder, and that's when I saw it—her smile.

My arms dropped to my sides, the gun dangling uselessly from one hand. She was smiling and laughing for the first time in weeks. Ben's laughter used to ring out just like that, vibrant and free. But since he'd been gone, joy seemed like a stranger to our ranch.

“Aunt Kat, put down the gun,” she chirped. “You look crazy.”

“Jesus, Livy, what happened?” I demanded.

“Missed the bus,” she shrugged. “Gabe saw me and gave me a ride home.”

“Oh,” I said hollowly, still unable to reconcile the scene before me. “But…Livy, you need to be careful. You can't just hop into cars with strangers?—”

“He's not a stranger, Kat. It's Gabe. Plus, he got us dinner—which makes him a friend, right?”

My gaze flickered back to the man stepping out of his truck, a man who now held a cheeseburger hostage in a greasy paper peace offering.

My stomach growled.

Traitor.

Livy seemed to pick up on the weirdness between us, her eyes darting from me to Gabe. “Meet you guys inside,” she said—and then she was gone, leaving the two of us alone.

I eyed him warily, taking in the rugged clothes hugging a military-honed body. His sleeves were rolled up, revealing forearms corded with veins and a few tattoos. My gaze traveled upwards involuntarily. Damn those shoulders—broad, capable shoulders that looked like they could carry the weight of the world or at least wrestle down a stubborn steer.

Or a stubborn me.

“Kat?” His voice jolted me back to the present, and heat rushed to my cheeks as I realized I'd been caught staring. Had he seen? Of course he had.

I finally put the gun down, scowling. “Why are you here?”

He glanced down at the shotgun, the corners of his lips twitching into a smirk that suggested amusement—or was it challenge? But then his eyes found mine again, all traces of humor gone. There was something about that gaze; it made me feel stripped bare, seen in ways that made my skin prickle.

“My dad asked me to drop this off,” Gabe said, holding out the paper bag as if it were a peace offering. “Got your favorite burger and Livy's chicken tenders.”

I blinked at him, my annoyance momentarily forgotten. Hunger gnawed at my insides, reminding me of the long day without a proper meal. The smell wafting from the bag was intoxicating, especially considering that my missed errands today had meant we were destined for another night of freezer-burned TV dinners.

“Really?” I found myself saying, disbelief mingling with a grudging sense of gratitude.

“Yep.” He shifted on his feet. “Figured you could use a break.”

Without waiting for another word, I marched up and snatched the bag from his hands, peering inside. The scent of charred beef and fried potatoes hit me full force, and I swear my mouth watered enough to end a drought.

“You don't have to stay,” I said abruptly, feeling strangely vulnerable under his gaze. “We can handle dinner from here.”

“Sure thing, Kat.” His voice held a hint of something I couldn't place, and he took a step back, hands raised in surrender. “Just wanted to make sure you got it.”

The awkward moment was abruptly ended when the thunderous sound of hooves pounding against the hard-packed earth tore through the air. My head whipped around and my heart lurched when I saw a dark shape racing out of the barn.

No way.

That was Shadow.

“Damn it!” I cursed, dropping the bag of food as I watched the horse galloping wildly near the barn. A wave of exhaustion crashed over me, and I realized with sinking dread that in my fatigue, I must not have secured his stall properly.