“Hey, Evie.”
His voice was different, yet the same. And it had tears burning the backs of my eyes. “Hey, Ben.”
“Ian said you were back.”
I did my best not to stiffen at my brother’s name. “I’m sure he had lots to say about that.”
“Ian has a lot to say about any topic. Even when he doesn’t know anything about it.”
His words startled a laugh out of me. “I guess some things never change.”
Ben took a step closer. “You have, though.”
“Bound to, I guess.”
“You gonna take that hand off your gun, or still making up your mind?”
Of course, he knew what my hand rested on. We’d practically grown up together, his family having the ranch next to my uncle’s and being just as involved in the prepper community as we were. We’d formed this insular almost-family. Homeschooled together, raced horses, swam in the lake. But all of that had disappeared in a blink.
My hand flexed. “That depends on why you’re here.”
“To see my best friend.”
I studied Ben’s face. I didn’t see any deceit in it, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t there.
He took another step closer. “I’ll never forgive myself for not protecting you. For not stepping in when Ian—”
The look on my face stopped Ben cold, and his words fell away. The echoes of pain had entrenched themselves there. I usually kept them well disguised, but I couldn’t hide them when he brought that up. “Someone should’ve stepped in. I’m not sure it was your job, though.”
The feel of Ian’s steel-toed boot in my stomach, ribs, and shoulder resurfaced. The pain bloomed as if it were yesterday, not sixteen years ago. I released my hold on the gun, my hands fisting so my nails could dig into my palms as if that small bite of pain could distract from memories of so much worse. It couldn’t.
Ben kicked at a rock. “It was my job. I’d been looking out for you practically since you were born.”
It was true enough, but it only hurt more to hear him say it aloud. “I can’t go there. Please, don’t make me.”
“All right. But I need you to know I’ve regretted it every day since.”
I nodded, unable to get any other words out for a moment. “Why did you stay?”
“It’s home.”
It was such a simple answer—the ties that bound us to family, the roots that made up our pasts, they were powerful. Far more than I’d given them credit for when I was just eleven years old. “I get that.”
“Are you okay? I don’t know that you should be staying up here all alone. If I talk to Allen, he’ll let you come back. He won’t do anything—”
“I can take care of myself.” My spine locked tight. It didn’t matter how many precious childhood memories I shared with the Ben I’d known as a boy; he was a man now. And he was tied up with a group of people who wanted nothing more than to put me in the place they thought I belonged and deserved—which was likely under their boot.
“I know that you’re a capable woman. I admire that. But—”
“But nothing. I’m fine here. And I’m more than protected. You can report that back to Allen and Ian.”
“I’m not reporting—” The sound of another vehicle cut off Ben’s words. Another unfamiliar truck appeared, and Ben surveyed the driver. When he saw that it was a woman, he turned back to me. “I should get going. I’ll come by later and—”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
The hurt that flashed across his face cut, but I just dug my fingernails deeper into my palms. I had to draw a line in the sand because as much as I’d missed our friendship, I wouldn’t let Ben try to drag me back to that life. Not now, not ever.
“Okay, then. When you change your mind, you know where I’ll be.”
My throat burned as I watched him walk back to his truck and drive away. As his taillights disappeared, I tried to convince myself that it was for the best. A door slammed, and I looked at the woman who was standing in front of a dusty truck.
I would’ve recognized her anywhere. The image of the missing person’s poster was seared into my mind. Even a decade and a half of time passing and growing up didn’t disguise her.
Shiloh raised her chin and met my gaze. “Who was that?”
I wanted to laugh. She asked the question as if we were lifelong friends, and she had every right to know who came and went from my life. “Someone I used to know.”
“Friend or foe?”
“I’m not sure. Maybe a little of both.”
“Those are always the most complicated ones.”
My mouth curved. “You’re not wrong there. It’s good to see you, Shiloh.”
She shifted on her feet. “Is it okay that I came?”
That slight hesitation made my ribs tighten around my lungs. “You’re welcome anytime.”
The set of Shiloh’s shoulders relaxed a fraction, and she surveyed the land around us. Her gaze caught on the shed in the distance. The building that held all of our ghosts—or most of them, anyway. I needed to tear the thing down. Burn it and bury the ashes. Put something worthy in its place.
Shiloh’s face shut down, her gaze dropping to her feet as her hands clenched and flexed at her sides. She seemed to be counting silently. I didn’t say a word, wanting to give her all of the time and space she needed. After a minute or so, she straightened, turning back to face me. “Thank you. For what you did. I’ve thought a lot about you over the years. I never had a chance to say that, so I’m saying it now.”
“You don’t need to—”
“I do.” Her eyes blazed with a fierce heat. “The doctors said I probably wouldn’t have made it another couple of days. Thank you.”
The invisible vise around my torso tightened another notch. How could my family not see? That this sickness in my father had almost cost another family everything? “Are you okay?”
Shiloh lifted one shoulder then dropped it back down. “I’m as good as anyone can be, I think. People might think I’m a little weird. But that’s okay with me.”
“All my favorite people are a little weird.”
The corner of her mouth kicked up as the wind made the long braid down her back swing. “Good taste.” She was quiet for a few moments, seemingly not feeling the need to fill the space. “Mom said you’re turning this place into a sanctuary.”
“That’s the plan. As you can see, it’s going to take a while.”
“Might go faster if you had help.”
I met Shiloh’s stare. “True enough.”
She steeled herself, those hands clenching again. “I’d like to help.”
“You would?” I couldn’t imagine it was easy for her to be here. Yet she stood steady as a rock.
“Yes.”
“I can’t really afford to bring anyone on.” It would take a wish and a prayer to get this place off the ground without going bankrupt.
“I’ve got money. Don’t need any more from you. And I like animals…a hell of a lot more than people. It would be nice to build a home for ones who could use it.”