Page 15 of Her Redeemed Protector

Hux flashes him a look of appreciation before guiding me away from the two men. His brown eyes meet mine, friendly and inviting, offering a sense of unexpected familiarity. He asks, “Where did you learn to control a horse like that?”

“Secret cowgirl past,” I reply with a wink, keeping everything else to myself.

He nods a few times, the silence between us growing awkward, like two cowhands at a rodeo waiting for the gate to open. Then I excuse myself. I haven’t forgotten why I’m here. “I really should go. The horses aren’t going to feed themselves.”

The man responds with a smile. “Okay. Give that stallion an extra carrot for me, will you?”

Behind my own grin, I conceal the whirlwind of thoughts inside my head. A guy’s smile usually stirs as little in me as a light breeze against an oak door. But his smile? Damn… how can it look so hot? And it complements his suit perfectly, a detail I seldom notice in men.

I throw back, “Carrots aren’t on the menu today, but I’ll give him an extra apple instead.”

Huxley nods politely, that core-stirring smile still firmly in place as if whispering, ‘I’ll see you soon.’ His expression is so compelling that I’m almost persuaded to abandon my tasks just to linger by his side a bit longer, to once again experience the security his robust, protective presence offers. He mentions wearing a suit for various reasons. I suspect one is to fortify his role as a steadfast shield for those he guards.

As I walk toward the barn, I can feel Hux’s eyes on me, a mixture of concern and something else I can’t quite place.

Hands down, Hux is the most striking man I’ve ever laid eyes on. He could effortlessly star in his own reality show. The men onThe Bachelorpale in comparison to him. Hux stands tall, his athletic physique evident even beneath his tailored suit. His thick mane of hair and the enticing hint of stubble on his jawline only enhance his timeless charm, like the boy-next-door evolved into a remarkably handsome man.

Yet, there’s a scar, a jagged line tracing from his cheek to his jaw, a testament to some past ordeal. It makes him look rugged, no doubt, but it doesn’t diminish his innate allure or his gentle nature. The way Bethany gravitated to him spoke volumes. Offering him her toy elephant necklace wasn’t mere gifting. It was a gesture of connection.

I can’t help giving Huxley one more glance as I’m about to turn behind a structure that will put him out of view. He glances back, and for a moment, my heart palpitates with the push and pull of longing and uncertainty, a thrilling and unsettling sensation. Just then, the sheriff approaches him, no doubt to take his statement.

If today’s glimpse of Hux is any indication of who he truly is, he has restored my faith that there are still good men in this world. Even if he isn’t available or interested in me, a girl can dream. The trace of his presence kindles the hope that our paths might cross again.

The barn is now a crime scene, yellow tape fluttering in the breeze, but the deputy lets me tend to the animals to ensure their welfare.

Being back inside makes me reflect on what truly happened here. A numbered marker lies next to the rifle on the floor, with several other markers scattered throughout the barn. I don’t know how I pulled it off. It was pure adrenaline and the thought of Bethany’s safety that propelled me. I managed to mount the stallion while it was still in the stall, then unleashed the beast, stopping her father from reaching her. I don’t have kids of my own, but I know how to protect one.

The horses start getting impatient in their stalls, pawing at the ground and snorting to get my attention.

“All right, all right,” I say and start to move through my tasks, the rhythm of feeding and grooming the horses providing a distraction. And as I promised Hux, I give the stallion an extra apple. The giant nudges my hand with his nose, a gesture of gratitude.

As I’m finishing, the distant murmur of activity fades into the background, replaced by the comforting sounds of thebarn. With my work complete, I make my way to an outdoor shower adjacent to the structure.

Stripping down, I’m immediately aware of how bad I smell—like a wet dog who’s rolled in manure. I wonder how Hux managed to stick with me, shake my hand, and stand so close!

As I lather, my gaze settles on the scar just beneath my left breast, a lasting reminder of the day we lost Mitchell Ranch. The blood has long since dried, and the stitches have dissolved, but the mark remains. The world is full of bullies, always ready to snatch away what’s precious. I can’t change the past, but today, I’m proud to have stood up to one and won.

The water is cold, biting against my skin, but it does the job, washing away the grime and tension of the last few hours.

I slip into a change of clothes, opting for a more presentable ensemble of linen pants and a halter-neck top, outfits I wish I had worn during my first encounter with Hux. When I return to the front of the farm, Hux and Jack are gone, leaving only a couple of deputies lingering around the perimeter.

For reasons I can’t quite grasp, a strange emptiness takes hold of me. It’s not just the absence of Hux’s stunning presence, but it feels like something vital has been carved out of me. My entrance into the dating scene was anything but ordinary, marred by painful lessons. After Fabian ‘The Backstabber’ Gill turned on me for a handful of cash, envisioning a new relationship as thrilling, or even imagining trusting someone again, feels nearly impossible.

Despite that, I can’t deny it. Shouldering the burdens of life alone, with only my pillows to absorb my tears, has been tougher than I imagined. Staying strong isn’t just a choice. It’s ingrained in my being, a trait passed down from my resilient mother. But being tough doesn’t mean I don’t yearn for the warmth of tender moments or crave the gentle touch of a man.

The thought of having a partner like Hux, whose natural affinity for children mirrors a tenderness I’ve seldom allowed myself to dream of, brings an undeniable comfort. His presence promises a balance to my strength, a soft landing in the hard world I’ve navigated alone for too long.

Gah!I mentally slap myself. A man like him is too good for my reality. Too handsome, too kind, too everything to be mine. His standards zip past my romantic radar like a stealth bomber in a love-struck sky. I should tame these giddy-gaga flutters inside me before they grow into a fuzzy elephant like Bethany’s Mono.

The sun peaks in the sky, and my truck has been baked by the heat. The leather seats are hot to the touch, and the air inside feels thick. Summer is definitely here.

I climb into the driver’s seat, letting out a sigh as I crank the windows down, welcoming the slight breeze that filters in.

Once I’m on the road, I pull out my phone and call my dad, setting it to hands-free. The line rings a couple of times before he answers.

“Savannah?”

“Hey, Dad. Just wanted to let you know, if you hear or see anything on the news about the Johnsons’ farm, I’m safe.”

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