Page 36 of Cowboy Elite 2: Mike

Then he remembered the lake house ruins.

Heather had taken Liv there once, a quiet place where the water whispered and pine shadows softened the daylight. If she’d left on her own, that would likely be the place she’d go. If she hadn’t left on her own . . . well, he didn’t want to even think about that.

Abandoning the truck, he headed for the barn and saddled Blaze in record time.

The lake house used to be a guest cabin, built decades ago when the Watkins ranch first opened to travelers, back when his parents were alive and well before any of them had concocted the idea of opening a working dude ranch. A fire had burned it down several years back. Now it was just a skeleton of aged timber and open sky, nestled beside the glinting edge of the lake, still and secret.

And there she was.

Relief and anger hit him all at once.

She sat curled into herself on the weathered remains of the front step, wrapped in the old fleece blanket Heather had kept in the supply building. Her blonde hair fell around her face like a curtain, shielding her from the world.

Mike dismounted, leaving the reins loose for Blaze to graze.

"Liv."

Her head snapped toward him. Tears stained her cheeks, dried now into lines. She hooked her hair behind her ears. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to disappear."

"You scared the hell out of me."

She looked away. "I needed space."

He sucked in a long breath, trying to steady himself. "You can't just vanish. Not with what's going on."

"I know." Her voice cracked.

"Then why?" He stepped forward, boots crunching on the dry grass. "Why leave us guessing whether you've been taken? Whether you're hurt? Whether—" He stopped. Swallowed hard. "Whether you're coming back."

She flinched. "I don't know how to do this, Mike." Her voice rose. "I don't know how to trust people. It’s always been just me. I mean, my parents love me, but they have their own lives. I don’t even know if they’re home, and even if they are I can’t involve them, put them in danger. And your family is amazing, but this isn’t fair to you.”

His jaw tightened. "You don't get to make that call."

"I never meant for the ranch to get involved. For you to get involved."

"Well, I am." His voice cracked. He scrubbed a hand over his face. "Liv, the people here, my family, they'd walk through a burning building for you. Hell, Kenny's out there right now stringing tripwire in the dark like it's Christmas morning." He paused. Swallowed hard. "And me? I'd burn before I let anyone hurt you."

A tremor rippled through her shoulders. “As kind and wonderful as that it, it’s not okay.”

Mike closed the distance between them and crouched in front of her, hands gentle around her wrists. "Talk to me. Please."

She was quiet for a long moment. Then the words came, slow and broken.

"I saw a man die." The words came out flat. Empty. Like she'd said them so many times in her head they'd lost meaning. "I was catering this private event. Exclusive. The kind where they make you sign an NDA before you even walk in the door."

Mike stayed quiet. Waiting.

"I was refilling water glasses during dinner. Heard voices in the hallway. Raised. Angry. I thought maybe someone had too much to drink, you know? That I should steer clear." She pulled the blanket tighter. "But I looked. I don't know why. Curiosity. Instinct. Stupidity."

Her voice dropped to barely a whisper.

"There were two men. One in a tux. One on his knees. The man standing had a gun. And he just—" She made a small, helpless gesture. "He pulled the trigger. No hesitation. Like it was nothing."

Mike's thumbs stroked the insides of her wrists, gently, encouraged her to continue.

"There was blood. On the marble. On the wall. And the man, Damian Russo, turned and saw me."

"Did he recognized you?"