Page 47 of Death Valley

Eventually Eli goes out to feed the horses, while Red and Cole drink their rye by the fire. Hank stays by the window, looking outside as if he’s waiting for someone to drop by, someone he doesn’t want to see.

Aubrey sits across from me at the rough-hewn table, steam from her mug of hot chocolate curling around her face like mist. In the wavering lamplight, shadows dance across her features, softening them, making her look younger, more vulnerable. It’s an illusion, I know. There’s nothing vulnerable about Aubrey Wells.

Unless she’s coming on my tongue.

“So, this is your family cabin?” she asks, breaking the silence that has settled over the room.

I nod, setting down my empty bowl. “Built by my grandfather after the war. Used to be our hunting lodge, long ago, back when the ranch ran cattle all the way up to the tree line.”

“You spent a lot of time here as a kid?”

“Summers mostly. My father would bring me up for weeks at a time.” The memories rise—summer storms, not unlike this one, the cabin a haven of warmth and safety while thunder shook the mountains. My father’s quiet voice explaining how to read the weather, the wildlife, the land. “It was…different then.”

“How so?”

I meet her gaze, weighing how much to say. “Simpler. Before the ranch hit hard times. Before my father died and left me with debts I’m still paying off.”

It’s more than I intended to reveal, but something about her steady gaze pulls the truth from me. Not the whole truth—never that—but more than I’m usually comfortable sharing.

“Is that what this job is about?” she asks quietly. “The money?”

When isn’t it? But not enough to risk these people’s lives. Not enough to risk hers.

“It started that way,” I admit. “Now…I’m not sure.”

Something shifts in her expression—surprise, perhaps, at my honesty. Or maybe she’s just seeing through the layers of bullshit I’ve constructed over the years, the hardened exterior I’ve cultivated to survive in Marcus’s world.

Either way, it’s unsettling.

The moment stretches between us, taut with unspoken questions. Then Cole yawns loudly, breaking the tension.

“Sleeping arrangements?” he asks, already eyeing the steep staircase that leads to the loft above.

“Loft only has two single beds,” I reply, grateful for the change of subject. “Bit cramped, but it’ll do if you spread the sleeping bags out on the rug. Aubrey gets one of them beds, though.”

“I’ll sleep down here,” Aubrey says quickly, already getting to her feet. “More room that way.”

“Not a good idea,” I say. “Heat rises. Loft will be warmer.”

She shakes her head, stubborn, and grabs her sleeping bag from the packs we hauled in from Angus and starts unrolling it. “I’ll be fine by the fire. Besides, someone should keep it stoked through the night.”

“I can do that,” I offer.

“You need your rest more than any of us,” she counters. “You’re the one who knows these mountains. We’re relying on you to get us through this.”

There’s logic in her argument, but all I can think about is her, alone on the main floor, while the rest of us sleep above. Though perhaps she wants the distance, not wanting to sleep among a bunch of strange men. Especially men like Red. I’ve seen the way he watches her when he thinks no one’s looking, a calculation in his eyes that has nothing to do with our mission and everything to do with the isolation of our situation.

Red catches me watching him and smirks, as if reading my thoughts. Something cold settles in my gut, a primal recognition of another predator in my territory. The irony isn’t lost on me—worrying about Red’s intentions while keeping my own firmly in check. As if my thoughts about Aubrey have been entirely pure and professional.

They haven’t. Far from it.

Nothing about us has.

“Suit yourself,” I relent, though everything in me rebels against it. “But if you need anything?—”

“I know where to find you,” she finishes, the ghost of a smile touching her lips.

Eli comes inside, shaking off the snow from his jacket just as the others troop up to the loft, Red, Hank, and Cole already arguing over the single beds. Eli pauses at the foot of the stairs, giving me a questioning look. “Need anything else?”

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