Page 76 of Her Redeemed Protector

“Yeah. You were really worked up, yelling at your brother over a rat?”

He clears his throat. “I was just so upset to see the place falling apart. If it were up to me, it wouldn’t have happened. But it’s not my call. It was wrong to lash out at Micah.”

His fingers absentmindedly brush over his scar. A twinge of sympathy stirs within me. I squeeze his hand, hoping to extract what truly troubled him that night. “We all have those places, Hux. Those memories that grip us when we least expect. But remember, I’m here for you, no matter what comes up with those memories.”

Huxley shifts, sitting up and pulling his knees to his chest. “I did ask Micah about the cottage. He’s planning to tear itdown and put up something he can rent out. Says it’ll bring in more income.”

I appraise him. “You don’t agree with that?”

“It’s not my place to say,” he responds, stretching an arm out to flick off the bedside lamp.

The room is now lit only by the glow of night lights filtering through the curtains. The sheets are cool against my skin, prompting me to snuggle closer to him.

He drapes an arm around me, his fingers combing through my hair. “I’ve really enjoyed our time here, Sav. Thanks for this.”

“It’s been one hell of a surprise, that’s for sure. Thanks for pulling it all together,” I respond, planting a kiss on his chest before resting my head against it and listening to his heartbeat. “Tomorrow’s a new day, but tonight, it’s just us, the stars, and the meadows of Starfire.”

“That’s all I need,” he whispers back. “Good night, sweetheart.”

“Good night, Hugs.” The nickname slips out, one I haven’t used in a while.

He chuckles at my call, then kisses my forehead.

Quiet settles around us, only the whisper of the wind outside and our own deepening breaths filling the space. I lie awake, cloaked in contentment and curiosity, silently wishing he would open up just a little more.

“Sav…” he begins slowly.

“What is it, Hux?”

“Please, try to forget what you saw in that cottage,” he requests.

So, he’s not ready to discuss it. I can feel his struggle, the tightness of his words revealing the strain. I’ve made a commitment to stand by him as he grapples with what we’ve come to call ‘an angry wish.’ Only time will reveal whetherthis is merely a fleeting thought or something more profound and whether my trust in him will endure.

Tonight caps a journey, one that Huxley orchestrated from the very start. This ranch, this room, the entire house—it’s all like a beautiful dream. I don’t want to cloud this final evening with my lingering questions.

“Okay,” I murmur in agreement.

We settle down, face to face, the night lights casting pale shadows on his features. Watching him close his eyes, I brush my fingers across his scar, and he hums a quiet note of comfort. His hand, large and reassuring, clasps mine. His scar isn’t just a mark of past pain. It’s a gateway to his depths, pulling me closer in ways he himself might not understand. I feel his pain, I honor it, and I want to be there, hand in hand with him, whenever it threatens to overwhelm him.

As he requested, I might manage to push aside his sudden outburst and his bizarre reaction to the rats in that old building. But there’s a deeper layer that’s harder to dismiss: the photograph. The face in it, is unsettlingly reminiscent of mine yet altered. He tucked it away too swiftly in the shadows of that cottage, but I caught a glimpse of it later without his knowledge. Despite my best efforts to let it go, I doubt I’ll ever truly forget it.

29

HUXLEY

The days at Starfire Ranch swept past, carried on gusts of laughter and ranch dust. Savannah’s joy is still vivid in my mind, a contagion that has reset my understanding of ‘home.’ It’s now more than a place where my family is and where my heart belongs, but it’s where I truly feel what it’s like to be loved by a woman.

The hiccup at the old foreman’s quarters didn’t dampen the rest of our stay. I silently hoped my efforts to smooth over that unsettling moment were successful. I had no desire to deceive Savannah. Rather, it felt right to postpone confronting deeper truths. Her smile, her happiness, they were my imperative. Unraveling my inner conflicts was a risk I couldn’t take, not when it meant potentially shattering the peace she so richly deserved.

My return to Red Mark has been a gentle one, thankfully. I haven’t been assigned any missing persons cases yet, only routine training and logistics. I spend the last week brushing up on our new training modules and hashing out plans with Chase for our expansion into Bozeman. As Mark told me, theinvestors are keen, and our bosses are pushing ahead with setting up a new headquarters there. It’s a lot, but manageable.

Home for the day, I drop onto the couch as my phone buzzes with a message from Marta Rojas. The grandmother must be wondering where I’ve been, given my silence.

Rodolfo wants to talk to you.

I wince, recalling how I missed Rodolfo’s birthday while I was at Starfire. A twinge of remorse twists through me, but that time with Savannah was priceless. Now I have to make it up to Rodolfo. It’s been a while since we caught up, with the recent cases and having Sav in my life. Kids are sensitive to changes around them, and after everything he’s been through, I don’t want to be the one causing him any more upheaval.

Marta’s text is a reminder of our usual online game nights, a tradition since Rodolfo figured out how to hold a game controller.

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