Page 57 of Rescued Love

Before I can say anything, Sheriff Wilder steps up next to her and sticks his hand out between us. “Hello,” his voice is smooth and doesn’t hold even a hint of malice, “I’m Rhodes Wilder. You must be Nathan? I’ve heard a lot about you.”

I shake his hand, manners and instinct riding me. “Nice to meet you, Sheriff.”

Rhodes chuckles and shakes his head. “Just Rhodes is fine. I’m not out here in an official capacity.” I feel my eyes widen, but he doesn’t seem to pay it any mind. My girl on the other hand? She notices and I swear the corner of her lip twitches as she stares me down. Rhodes turns toward Grandpa and grins. “Good to see you, Mr. Jacobson.”

Grandpa huffs and mutters, “Don’t know how many times I’ve had to tell you to call me Calvin. You’re out here every couple of weeks, Rhodes, to help and make sure there aren’t any problems. It’s about time you drop the formalities, don’t you think?”

Rhodes chuckles and shrugs, his demeanor all ‘aw, shucks’ and good ol’ boy. “I’ll keep trying, Mr. Jacobson,” there’s amusement in his tone as he teases Grandpa. I find myself smiling a little even though Kimball’s eyes are still burning into me. Shit. Rhodes turns to me and explains, “I was just making sure Kimball got out here okay.” He turns to my woman, his eyes soft and his voice full of concern, “You good?”

“I’m good,” Kimball tells him without even looking at him.

Panic takes hold of me and that’s when I allow myself to look, really look at my woman. There are remnants of tear tracks on her cheeks and her eyes are a little red rimmed. Fuck.

I bark, “What the fuck happened?”

When I take a step toward my woman, she takes one back, but that is simply not going to work for me right now. Not willing to allow her to put distance between us, I wrap my arms around her and pull her against my chest. Her body is still against mine, but I don’t let it deter me.

Rhodes clears his throat, authority seeping into his words, and I know he’s just gone into Sheriff mode. “There was an incident in the next county over. The Monroe County Sheriff was contacted about a dog fighting ring. They went in, busted it up, and was working with their county’s rescue for the animals.”

“There were too many for them to handle alone,” Kimball’s broken voice is muffled against my chest.

My heart fucking cracks wide open. Fuck. I fucked up big time.

My woman wanted comfort after dealing with that shit and she came here, to me. And I let the bad I’m used to finding in the word splatter all over her when she’s already dealing with enough bad all on her own.

I squeeze her a little tighter and hold my breath, hoping she doesn’t push me away even though she has every right to. I only relax when she melts into me.

“I escorted Kimball over there to help if needed,” Rhodes informed me. “When everything was wrapped up and the dogs that she’s taking in at the rescue were secured and on their way, she told me that she wanted to come here.”

I nod and shoot the man a grateful look before glancing at Gramps. He’s not looking at me, but at my woman with understanding and compassion on his face.

“Thank you for keeping her safe,” my voice is thick with emotion as I address Rhodes, and he gives me a nod in return.

I bury my face in my woman’s neck for a moment, kissing her skin and feeling her fingers twist in my shirt. When I pick her up and turn on my heel, she doesn’t make a sound as she wraps her limbs around me and holds on.

“I’m sorry, Kitten,” I whisper the words against the top of her head as I make my way back to the barn.

“It’s okay,” she chokes out.

“No,” I growl, “it’s not. I did it again and there’s no excuse. I know who you are, and I know your heart. I should have looked at you, really looked at you, the moment you got out of your truck.”

“I should have called you first, warned you, but I just needed to see you.”

This woman. My woman.

When we’re in the barn, I walk over to a bench set up along the front wall and sit with Kimball straddling my lap. I cup her face, putting just enough distance between us that I can look into her eyes.

Fuck.

Her eyes kill me. They’re glassy with unshed tears and the pain in them, the sheer fucking devastation, has me wanting to fall to my knees.

But I can’t. She needs me to be strong and I’m determined to be exactly what she needs.

“It was bad,” she sniffles. “There were so many dogs there who had open wounds, were underfed, and had endured somuch trauma that they couldn’t realize we were there to help them.”

My eyes slide closed, and I pull her against my chest.

“Were you in danger?” I know she was there for the animals, but the thought of her being there while whoever was running the ring, of being around criminals, tears me up inside.

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