Page 19 of Stitch & Steel
“Or something more.”
“You thinking Gran?”
“I’m thinking Bella.”
His expression darkened. “Want me to post eyes up there?”
“No.” I grabbed my kutte off the hook. “I’m going myself.”
“In the morning?”
“Now.”
“Logan—”
I didn’t wait.
By the time I crested the gravel road to the cabin, after midnight was crawling over the mountain like a slow-moving shadow. The porch light glowed warm through the trees—safe, familiar.
But I didn’t feel safe.
Not anymore.
I cut the engine and coasted in quiet, headlights off, every sense sharp. The trees felt too still. The wind too quiet.
I knocked once, hard. Old instinct. Let them know it’s me.
Gran opened the door with a tired smile, hair pinned up, flowery nightgown on.
“Well, ain’t you a sight. Come in before the bugs do.”
“Where’s Bella?”
She tilted her head. “Asleep. Why?”
I didn’t answer. Not yet. Just stepped over the threshold, scanned the living room, every window, every door.
Bella appeared from the hallway, sleepy eyes, rosy cheeked with a T-shirt skimming bare thighs.
“Everything okay?” she asked.
I looked at her—really looked. And the tightness in my chest eased just enough to breathe again. “Yeah. Now it is.”
Gran poured tea like it was any old evening, but my hands were still shaking from the ride, still twitchy from the shots fired.
I took a long pull from the glass, then set it down harder than I meant to.
Bella’s eyes narrowed. “Logan…”
“There was a crew on the ridge,” I said, straight up. No sugarcoating. “They’re not from around here. Not just passing through. They were scouting.”
Bella paled slightly, but Gran stayed stone calm. Probably the only one in the room who’d ever seen real war.
I turned to her. “I need you to keep Bella close. No trips to town alone. No wandering up that trail without backup. I’m sending a prospect to stay nearby, watch the place.”
Gran’s eyes twinkled. “You think I can’t handle myself?”
“I think I’ve seen what happens when good people get caught in bad crossfire.”
