Page 22 of Savage Rancher
Wow
Harper Garrett
Yeah. It made me want to look them up.
So I did.
They barely exist in the system. Except for their commendations. They have medals out the wazoo.
Jake is a hero. I don’t know why that surprises me. It makes me wonder what he’d done to get those medals, and what the toll was on him.
I return my attention to my phone.
When is your dad going to Blackthorn Ranch?
So I know around when he wants to see me.
Harper Garrett
He’s in the kitchen finishing his breakfast, and then he’s going.
He should be out to your place in an hour, unless he’s at Blackthorn a long time.
Warning: he’s NOT a morning person. And he’s especially grumpy today.
I jump out of bed before I can think, my mind racing. From the Garrett house to Blackthorn Ranch, it’s twenty minutes, meaning I have at least that long to beat him there.
If Jake’s going to protect me, I’m protecting him right back.
23
EMMA
Idon't bother with a shower. I throw on yesterday's jeans and a T-shirt, shove my feet into my boots, grab my keys, and I'm out the door in under three minutes.
The drive to Blackthorn Ranch usually takes fifteen minutes. I make it in nine. In those nine minutes, I devise what I think is a decent plan. Hopefully, Jake will think so too.
My RAV4 slips on the mud as I skid to a stop in front of the main house, and I'm already moving before the engine dies. It’s just past seven, but I figure Jake is probably used to starting his day early. I run up the porch and grab the doorknob.
The front door isn't locked. After Jake’s scolding last night, I’m surprised, but I don’t stop to ponder it. I burst inside without knocking and open my mouth to yell for him?—
Which is unnecessary since he and two other big, rangy guys burst into the foyer.
I stop in my tracks, shocked by their intensity as they fill the room. I’m a wildlife photographer, so I’ve spent lots of time watching animals, and these men all have the posture of a predator, low to the ground and ready to strike. They move like a whole instead of individual pieces. If I didn’t know differently, I’d think they were brothers.
Not that they look alike. The blond one could have stepped off a romance book cover—he’s shirtless and handsome andbuilt. The other one has longish black hair and eyes so dark they look like black holes. He’s thinner than Jake and the blond one, but he looks whipcord strong.
“Emma.” Jake takes me by my arms. “What’s wrong?”
The look on his face—surprise mixed with worry and something darker, something possessive—makes my stomach flip. "Sheriff’s coming," I say, breathless, wobbling as I toe my boots off. "Harper just texted me.”
Jake holds me steady. “Harper?”
“Sheriff Garrett’s daughter is his deputy. And my friend,” I explain. “She said he's on his way here."
The temperature in the room drops ten degrees.
The brawny one with blond hair tucks a gun I didn’t see he had into the back of the waistband of his jeans, pulling his T-shirt over it. "And this is regarding what?"
