Total pages in book: 28
Estimated words: 26140 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 131(@200wpm)___ 105(@250wpm)___ 87(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 26140 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 131(@200wpm)___ 105(@250wpm)___ 87(@300wpm)
“Well,” I muttered into the darkness as I clicked on the flashlight still in my hand. “This day just keeps getting better and better.” Ryder gently removed it from my hand, and I was about to bitch when I saw him sweep the beam across the porch.
He was examining the damage before moving the light back on me. “Power’s out,” he said.
I gave him a flat look. “No kidding. I thought the sudden blackout was just for ambiance.” I looked past him toward the road. Rain came down in solid sheets, turning the pasture into a blur of gray. Water rushed through the ditch along the gravel drive, already beginning to spill over.
“No generator.” Not a question but a statement of fact.
“Nope.”
He gave a single nod, beads of water still dripping off his hat. “My place has one. You’re comin’ with me.”
“I'm fine. It’s just a little storm. I don’t need rescuing, Ryder.”
“I know.” Beneath the brim of his hat, his dark gaze held mine, heavy and unreadable. “But I ain’t leavin’ you here without power in the middle of this storm.”
There wasn’t an ounce of pressure in his voice. Just that quiet, unrelenting certainty that made arguing feel pointless. I glanced around the house. The old place suddenly felt bigger in the dark. Scarier and colder. Every creak of the walls seemed louder without the lights.
Another crack of thunder shook the entire place. Before I could answer, a loud crack split the air. A massive tree limb came crashing down, punching straight through the living room window. Glass shattered and rain immediately blew inside.
I cried out at the sudden violence of it all. “Damn it,” I breathed out shakily.
Ryder didn’t say a word. He just looked at me, waiting.
I let out a slow breath. “Fine.”
He gave a single nod. “Grab what you need.”
I hurried upstairs with the flashlight, throwing a change of clothes, my toothbrush, and a few essentials into an overnight bag. When I came back downstairs, I paused in the hallway. Ryder had already covered the broken living room window as best he could with an old sheet he must have grabbed from inside the house, tacking it roughly over the jagged opening to keep the worst of the rain out.
Water still dripped through in places, but it was something. The small act settled strangely in my chest… quiet, practical, and undeniably him.
“Ready?” he asked.
“As I’ll ever be.”
He took my bag from my hand before I could protest. “You don’t have to—”
“I know.”
That seemed to be his answer for everything. He held the front door open, one hand braced against it while the wind tried to rip it from his grasp. The rain hit us sideways the second we stepped onto the porch. He stayed close enough to shield me from the worst of it as we hurried to his truck.
By the time we climbed inside, we were both soaked despite the short distance. The cab smelled like leather, coffee, and cedar.
Neither of us spoke much during the short drive next door.
The Kane Ranch sat on higher ground, and warm light spilled from the windows thanks to his backup generator. For the first time since coming back to Rootstown Creek, another house looked more like home than the one I’d inherited.
5
Iwoke to the smell of coffee and the unfamiliar weight of heavy blankets tucked around me. For several seconds, I didn’t know where I was.
The room was dim, morning light barely pushing through the curtains, and the steady patter of rain tapped against the window. It was softer than it had been the night before, no longer violent enough to shake the walls, but the storm hadn’t moved on completely.
Then, I saw my overnight bag sitting beside the dresser and remembered. The power going out, the tree limb crashing through the window, and Ryder taking me to his place.
Memories from the night before worked their way to the surface. After Ryder had shown me to the guest room, neither of us had gone to bed right away. We sat beneath the covered porch, each sipping a bottle of beer and staying silent as we watched the storm roll across the valley.
Now, daylight had arrived, and with it came the uncomfortable knowledge that I still couldn’t stop thinking about the night before. The way we sat together on the porch for hours barely speaking, yet the silence between us had felt heavier than any words.
The way his fingers had accidentally brushed mine on the wooden swing. The way he had looked at me when I finally stood up and mumbled something about being tired.
I pushed the blankets aside and sat on the edge of the bed, dragging both hands over my face. Coming back to Rootstown Creek was supposed to be simple. Settle my father’s estate, sell the ranch, and return to the life I had built far away from this place.