Page 46 of Montana Mystery

It had needed to happen. I knew that. But I still didn’t know how to process any of my thoughts about it, let alone say anything.

But at the same time, Noah had gotten me out. If he hadn’t, I would have been in an impossible situation with Max, who thought me giving him my body was a done deal. Noah had risked himself for me. Risked everything. And that wasn’t something I was going to forget either.

I still hadn’t said anything out loud. Right now, I wasn’t sure how.

“We need to go, Kate,” he said gently. “We can’t leave the cars for those guys to find. We’ll talk about it, I swear. I’ll make it right. But we need to leave.”

He walked me to my car. Of course he’d found where it was.

“You know the way to the ranch from here?”

I nodded.

“Go straight there. Don’t stop. I’ll be right behind you.”

That, I could do. Simple, easy instructions. Noah aside, Resting Warrior was the only place I wanted to be right now. I craved the calm peace that filled the entire property.

The snow was so thick I could barely see out the front of the windshield. It was the kind of snow that no one liked, even if you were a Montana native, born and raised. This was snow that caused accidents, so even on abandoned back roads, the going was slow.

In my rearview, there were lights in the distance. Noah.

Thankfully, the concentration I needed on the road was enough that I couldn’t sink into the mountain of questions I had, or give in to the sickness in my gut from being confronted with the worst of humanity.

I knew it hadn’t been much. Not by comparison to some things. But it was enough to terrify me. I’d thrown myself into it and thought it would be easy to do, the way it had been last night. It wasn’t. It didn’t matter that I hadn’t had a choice.

Now I understood why Noah hadn’t wanted me to go at all.

Too late for that.

Finally, I pulled into Resting Warrior, and the relief I felt...

It was like I was melting into the seat of my car. I could just stay here and fall asleep. That would be fine. Parking in front of the lodge, I wasn’t even fully sure I could make it up to the steps to that comfortable couch. All the energy had gone out of me, like I’d run a marathon.

Noah’s truck pulled alongside my car a few minutes later. It didn’t shut off. But there he was, at the door to my car, opening it and pulling me out into the snow. I didn’t resist when he lifted me off my feet and up into the cab of his truck.

It didn’t bother me. In spite of the violence I’d seen him dole out tonight, I knew he wasn’t going to hurt me. Noah was good all the way down to his core. I knew that. He had darkness, but so did we all.

I leaned my head against the window as we drove.

Why did it feel like this? Why couldn’t I seem to find my voice where it was buried all the way down in my gut? Why did it feel like I’d just walked a hundred miles in the desert without water?

It wasn’t a long drive before we pulled up to a small two-story house, just barely visible in the swirling storm. Noah didn’t carry me, but he didn’t let me go either, making sure that I was on my feet as he unlocked the door and brought me inside.

It was dim in the entryway, but it was warmer than outside. “Come in, please,” he said.

I took off my boots and my coat, following him into a comfortable living room. Coals were banked in the fire, so it took him only minutes to get a fire roaring.

A squeak distracted me seconds before an orange blur flew into my lap. I startled before I realized it was a kitten, another small black one following close behind.

“Oh my goodness,” I said. My voice had reappeared for them.

Noah smiled at them like he was looking at naughty toddlers. Affection and frustration in equal measure. “That’s Garfield and Salem. Currently my fosters.”

The orange one—Garfield—batted at the ends of my hair and lost his balance, falling over himself and onto the couch beside me. “I didn’t realize you were a cat person.” Now I remembered he’d mentioned the kittens that first night when he’d given me the tour.

Noah laughed softly. “I’m not, really. But they had nowhere to go. And they’re adorable. So against my better judgment I said I’d foster them over the holidays. My curtains regret that decision.”

I picked up Salem, who snuggled into my arms. The warmth of the fire was nice, and I curled deeper into the couch. This was good.