"I need to discuss this with my family," she said when he finished. “We already have a security system.”
"The threats are escalating. Every day we wait?—"
"I said.” Steel entered her voice. “I'll discuss it with my family."
"Someone was here. On your land. Touching your things." His bear pushed forward, making his voice rumble. "What if next time they do more?"
Joy stepped back. "I'll need a written report. Your observations and recommendations."
"I can have that to you by tomorrow."
"Email is fine." She turned toward the gate. "I'll walk you back."
They made the return journey in tense silence. Andre's bear raged at leaving his mate unprotected, but the man recognized how close he was to losing her completely.
At the gate, Joy paused. "Thank you for the security assessment. I'll look forward to your report.”
She walked away before he could respond. Andre climbed into his patrol car, watching her figure grow smaller in the distance. Every instinct screamed to follow, to guard, to protect.
Instead, he started the engine and drove away. The hardest thing he'd ever done, leaving that ranch. Harder than leaving Portland. Harder than facing his failures.
But if he wanted any chance with Joy Kincaid, he had to learn the difference between protection and control.
Even if it killed him.
Chapter
Seven
Joy jolted from sleep,her body rigid before her mind caught up. The darkness pressed against her tiny house windows. She lay still, listening. The silence was absolute. No cricket song, no owl calls, just suffocating quiet.
The glow of her phone showed 2:47 AM. She couldn’t sleep. Joy swung her legs over the bed's edge, bare feet finding the ladder rungs by memory. The fourth rung squeaked its familiar protest. Her mountain lion snarled, hackles raised, every instinct screaming that something was wrong.
Joy grabbed her jeans and boots, quickly pulling them on. Outside, the night air hit her skin. Her mountain lion pushed closer to the surface, sharpening her vision, guiding her toward the goat barn.
Her stomach dropped.
The gate hung twisted off its hinges, metal groaning in the breeze like a wounded thing. The pen that should hold fifteen sleeping goats stood empty.
"No." The word escaped as a whisper.
A scent hit her first. Pine, gun oil, and underneath, impossibly, sugar cookies. Andre emerged from the shadows, already in motion, hand resting on his service weapon.
"I spotted the intruders. Twenty minutes ago."
Relief flooded through her fear, fury chasing close behind. "Were you watching my house?"
His jaw tightened. The silence answered everything. "Which way did the goats go?" Andre's flashlight swept the empty pen.
Joy sighed, refocusing on what mattered more right now. "Everywhere. They probably scattered from whatever spooked them." Fresh hoof prints led in three different directions. "There are fifteen total. Clementine's pregnant. Due any day."
“I’ll help you find them.”
"Okay…” Joy squared her shoulders, trying to process the chaos. “Stay close and move quietly. When I get them calmed down, I'll need your help herding them back."
Joy ducked into the feed room, grabbing a bucket and filling it with sweet grain. The familiar rattle would bring her girls running once they calmed down. Two halters hung on the hook. She grabbed both, slinging them over her shoulder with their lead ropes.
"Ready?" She kept her voice low.
