Eli looks at Hannah with quiet concern. "You okay after the flight?"
She nods, but her fingers tighten on the edge of the table. I slide my hand to her shoulder and give a gentle squeeze. Protective instinct flares hot in my chest. These men are family, but right now every part of me wants to shield her from even their questions.
Boyd speaks first. "We can lock the border routes we know. Set up watches."
Wyatt adds, "I can run plates on anyone hanging around the airstrip lately. Quiet like."
Chase nods toward Hannah. "She needs round-the-clock eyes until we identify who’s pulling the strings."
Rhett agrees. "Gates stay closed. No one in or out without clearance."
I listen to each of them, grateful for the solid wall of support. But my focus stays on Hannah. She sits straighter now, surrounded by these men who have already decided she matters. Still, I feel the tension in her frame. I lean closer and speak low enough for only her to hear. "You’re safe here. I promise."
Rafe takes the lead on next steps. "Silas, you coordinate with your deputies on the official side. We handle the mountain. Hannah stays at your cabin. We rotate shifts around the perimeter."
The others voice agreement without hesitation. Harlan offers to check medical records for any connection to her father's doctors. Boyd volunteers to scout the airstrip at night. Eli reminds everyone Hannah needs rest after the flight and the stress.
I stand once the plan takes shape. "Meeting done. Hannah needs sleep. We pick this up at first light."
The men rise, each offering her a quiet word of support as they file out. Rafe claps my shoulder on the way past. "You got this. She’s one of us now."
Back at the cabin I lock the door and turn on the porch light. Hannah stands in the middle of the living room, looking smaller than she did on the runway. I cross to her and tip her chin up with two fingers. "You did the right thing today. Turning around took guts."
Her eyes search mine. "What if they come after my dad anyway?"
"Then we move him too. Quietly. Safely. I have contacts who can make that happen." I do not add that I already started the quiet calls on the drive up. She doesn’t need more to worry about tonight.
I guide her to the bedroom and pull extra blankets from the closet. "My bed. I take the chair again if it helps you rest."
She shakes her head. "You need sleep too. The bed is big enough. I don’t really want to be alone right now."
I almost argue, but the exhaustion in her voice stops me. "Fine. I promise to stick to my side."
While she changes in the bathroom I make up the bed and set a glass of water on the nightstand for her. When she comes out in sweats that are tight on her frame, something fierce and protective surges through me again. This woman flew a plane full of guns because someone threatened the only family she had left. She turned around because I asked. Now she stands in my cabin looking fragile and strong at the same time, and I know I’ll burn down whatever stands between her and real safety.
She climbs into the bed. I dim the lights and settle next to her, boots off, gun within reach on the nightstand. The fire pops softly in the hearth. Outside the wind moves through the pines, but inside everything feels contained. Secure.
Hannah's voice drifts from the bedroom. "Silas?"
"Yeah?"
"Thank you for coming after me."
I close my eyes, letting the words settle. "Always will."
Sleep pulls at me slow and heavy. I fight it long enough to listen for her breathing to even out. When it does, steady and quiet, I finally let myself rest. The men of Haven 7 stand ready. My deputies have the evidence locked down. And Hannah is here under my roof where no one can reach her.
Tomorrow we start unraveling the rest. But tonight she’s safe. That’s enough to let me close my eyes.
The mountain keeps its watch around us, and so do I.
CHAPTER 9
Hannah
The cabin wraps around me like a quiet promise. Thick log walls, the faint scent of cedar and woodsmoke, the low crackle of the fire Silas keeps going even though the morning will warm up soon. I lie in his bed, quilt pulled to my chin, listening to the soft sounds of him moving in the kitchen. Pots clink. Water runs. The coffee maker gurgles. Every noise feels deliberate and calm, nothing like the frantic rush of my old motel room or the sterile beep of Dad’s hospital monitors. Here I breathe easier. My shoulders loosen. For the first time in months the knot behind my ribs has slackened enough that I can actually feel my heartbeat instead of just hearing it thunder in my ears.
Safety is a strange thing when you have spent so long without it. I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop. For headlights to sweep across the windows at night. For a knock that is not one of the Haven men. The people who forced me into that cockpit know I didn’t make the drop by now. They’ll be angry. They will look. And when they look hard enough, they might find me here.Can I really hide on this mountain forever? Is it fair to Silas and the others to bring that kind of danger to their gate?