Page 72 of Promised to the Cowboy

“No.” I look at Evie, my hand tightening around hers. “That’s not stupid. That’s a daughter hoping her father might finally choose her. There’s nothing foolish about that, darlin’.”

To my surprise, Evie rises onto her toes and kisses me, soft and lingering, not caring that my entire family is standing three feet away watching.

When she draws back, her eyes are bright with unshed tears. “Thank you,” she whispers.

Daniel clears his throat. “Evie. Can I see your phone?”

She hesitates for only a second before handing it over.

Daniel turns it over in his hands. “We’ll have Ethan and the FBI take a look. Until they tell us otherwise, we’re going to assume your phone isn’t secure. Gabriel will get you another one.”

“The FBI’s been keeping Voss under surveillance since Vance gave us his name,” Ethan says. “So far, there’s no indication he’s connected Evie to Stoneridge.”

“That doesn’t mean he won’t,” Henry says. “From this point on, we assume he will.”

Daniel nods, then looks at me. “Go home, Gabe.”

I open my mouth to argue.

He shakes his head. “You’re not running. You’re going home. There’s a difference. It’s late. Tomorrow morning, we’ll get Sheriff Lucas and the FBI on a call and make a plan.”

I look at him for a long moment before nodding.

Daniel turns back to Ethan. Everyone begins to stand. Coffee mugs are gathered. Conversations start again, quieter this time, the tension easing gradually now that something resembling a plan has taken shape.

I slip an arm around Evie’s shoulders. “Come on, darlin’.”

“Evie.”

She freezes. Slowly, she turns.

Jacob is still sitting beside Ben. He looks tired. Older than he did an hour ago.

He takes a long breath. “I don’t know what tomorrow looks like. I don’t know what Alexander will do. And I won’t pretend I’m not still trying to make sense of it.”

His eyes hold hers. “But you’re family, Evie Gale.”

Chapter 18

Gabriel

The drive back to Stoneridge is quiet.

Neither of us reaches for the radio.

The truck settles into its familiar rhythm as the miles slip beneath the tires. Beyond the windshield, the Montana hills roll past in dark silhouettes beneath the deepening twilight.

Evie’s hand is wrapped in mine. I glance across at her. She’s watching the dark landscape drift past the window, her cheek resting against the glass. The tears have stopped, but I can still see where they dried against her skin.

Every now and then the corner of her mouth lifts, almost without her noticing, like she’s remembering something.

As we crest the ridge that separates Havenridge from Stoneridge, she speaks.

“Jacob called me family.”

The words come out soft and full of wonder.

I smile. “Took him long enough.”