Page 175 of Deacon

Jay Reed, his lawyer, is at the house a lot. They both seem concerned. Then, there’s silence. Jay probably did something illegal. Now, the weight that’s been hanging over Deacon’s head is gone. He shifts into talking about safeguarding the ranch against future encroachments. Late one night, he floats the idea of offering the remaining McClaine brother a deal for the land. I tell him he should do what he wants. He doesn’t need my permission.

He says he wants my input. I tell him it can’t hurt to have more land to buffer the property. I don’t want what happened to ever happen again.

The snow starts coming a few days later. It blankets Ryder Ranch and turns the gray hills and mountains sparkling white. I try to distract myself with anything. There’s a lot of fabric in the chest upstairs. I find a bolt of pink, dotted cotton and start making a baby blanket with it, fuzzy gray on one side, soft pink on the other.

It keeps my mind off Bittern.

“When can I see him?” I ask.

We’re in the kitchen, having coffee. Ginny says I’m having an easy pregnancy. There’re only fleeting moments of sickness. Mostly, I’m just exhausted. I could wrap myself up in a quilt and sleep until spring.

Deacon just got in from chores. He still has snow melting on his buzzed hair. He did that when I was kidnapped. I asked him why, and he said so he didn’t have to wash the blood from his hair.

Typical Deacon answer.

“Bittern?”

I nod, taking a sip of my mostly-creamer coffee. He reaches for his mug, sinking into his chair.

“He’s already in rehab, sweetheart.”

My heart sinks. “Really? I wanted to say goodbye to him.”

He gives me the softest look and holds out his arm. I sink onto his knee.

“I think Bittern would rather you see him next when he’s clean,” he says. “I spoke with him on the phone.”

That hurts, but I understand. Into my mind comes everything Bittern and I talked about the night I was kidnapped—and the conversation I had with Aiden.

Deacon and I haven’t spoken about either of those things.

Late that night, we’re laying in each other’s arms. I sleep on the side of the bed closest to the window. That way, I can watch the stars come out. Deacon rests against my back, reminding me to stay down here on Earth with an arm around my body.

I don’t long for the stars anymore.

My home is safe. My love is right here, holding me. Slowly, I’m finding that was all I ever wanted.

“Deacon,” I whisper.

He stirs but doesn’t move. His chest is firm, and I lean into his warmth.

“Bittern told me Aiden wasn’t his father,” I manage.

“Told me that too.”

Curious, I roll over. He’s watching me intently, with no expression.

“Aiden said… He said some things to me that made a lot of other things make more sense,” I manage.

“I know,” he says. “I noticed there was something…off with him a while ago. It was why I pulled you from that truck and brought you to Ryder Ranch. Couldn’t put my finger on it, but everything clicked the night he took you.”

I feel my lip tremble.

“You suspected?”

He nods. “You were a frog in a pot of heating water: too hot for too long to realize there was a boiling point. Someone needed to reach in and get you out.”

I swallow the lump in my throat. “I should have known when Braxton Whitaker disappeared.”

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