Rope the Moon (Runaway Ranch, #2)

by Ava Hunter

To the girls who need second chances, small town kisses, and starting over, I got you.

I’m a soldier. A man of rules. Secrets. But when it comes to Dakota McGraw, I’ve broken every single one of them.

“I want you to take these,” I order. Almost hesitantly, she fingers the tag. “Remember, Koty, you need anything, you call me.”

“I mean it. Anytime you ask, I’ll be there. Five seconds, five minutes, five lifetimes. I will always come for you. No matter what.”

I grab her up in my arms and hold her tight against my chest. Her small heart hammers next to mine. “We found you, Cassie,” I murmur, cupping her head as she wails. “You’re safe, sweetheart. Baby girl, breathe,” I whisper into her clammy golden curls.

Stede lets out a long, tired sigh. “I’m not too proud to ask…would you go get my daughter, Davis?” All eyes pin to me. My throat tightens as my mind locks on the promise I made to Stede last year. To always protect Dakota and Fallon. The old man is like a second father to us all. Taking us in. Protecting the ranch by calling in a doozy of a favor when we needed help. I make a promise, I keep it.

“I’ll go,” I announce, feeling all three of my brother’s gazes on me. Fueled by anger and determination, I stomp across the floor and grab the keys to my truck. “Where is she?” “A little town outside of Sioux Falls. ‘Bout eleven hours away.” I’ll make it in eight.

“You came,” she says, sighing into my chest. “You called.” I exhale, tension leaving my body as I wrap my arms around her.

In the fluorescent light of the motel, I see a bruised cheekbone. Black eye. A busted lip. Rage courses through me, swift, blinding. “Who did this, Dakota?” I demand, fighting to keep my voice controlled even as my breath comes out in ragged pants. “Who. The fuck. Did this?” Her eyes flutter closed. “Davis, don’t—” “Cupcake, I’m gonna need you to shut that pretty mouth and let me hold you.”

With a soft nudge, I steer her toward the room, not wanting her out in the open until I find out what the hell’s going on. “Let’s go inside.”

I pride myself on having a cool head, a calm center, but when it comes to Dakota McGraw, I lose the battle. Every fucking time.

“It doesn’t matter,” she whispers, her gaze skating away from me. “You’re here now. I got out. I’m safe.” “It fucking matters,” I growl. “A whole hell of a lot.”

“Who?” I press, fury clawing its way into my veins. “Tell me his fucking name, Dakota.”

“Look at me,” I say firmly. I place a hand on her leg, palm shaping her thigh. “He’ll never get near you or your baby. Never again.”

“Get some sleep, Dakota. As soon as it gets light, we’ll head back to Resurrection.” “And you?” she asks, fear in her eyes. “Where will you be?” Her hands move closer to mine. “I’ll be here.” I nod at the corner of the room. “In that chair.” “You’ll sit there. All night?” Before I can stop myself, I lean in and kiss her forehead. “All night.”

I tossed restlessly and woke to see Davis standing at the curtain, gun in his hands, staring into cold blue moonlight.

“Nothing’s too much, Stede. Not for you. Or your daughters.”

Davis’s expression turns to granite. “Maybe in my world is a yes. Especially when it comes to you.” His voice is deep, gruff, and his dark gaze rakes over my face.

“I’ll leave if he comes to Resurrection,” I whisper. My friends, my family… they’re in danger the longer I stick around. “That’s my plan. Pack up and run.” “That’s a plan that isn’t happening.” The smoky growl of Davis’s voice curls around my heart like a fist.

“What are you going to do, Davis? Follow me around the next however many weeks until it’s safe?” “Yes.” His big, muscled frame stomps forward. I shiver at the bright blaze of protection in his piercing eyes. “That’s exactly what I’m going to do.”

I unlock the doors and hold out my hands. “No lock and key, okay? No house arrest. You go and do what you want. And I’ll be there.” This time, a hint of a smile plays on her face. “Like a…bodyguard?” I raise an eyebrow. “I used to do this, you know. I’m good at it.”

But then she opens her mouth and whispers, “‘I will always come for you. No matter what.’” “Always,” I repeat. A tender vulnerability paints her face. “That was a long time ago, Davis.” The tightness in my chest warms. “But I meant it. I still do.”

Because Dakota flying back to DC and being in the same state with the motherfucker who put hands on her is not happening. If he comes after her, I have to be ready.

Ruby was hurt because of my fucking mistake, and I spent the entirety of last fall installing new security measures. I vet each staff member until I know their name and face in my sleep. You are beyond on camera. We monitor every inch of the ranch, except for the tree line and forest. Still, if Dakota’s ex plans to come after her, it’s dangerous having her on the ranch and Charlie knows it. I look him in the eye. “And if it does, I’ll handle it.”

A series of barks erupt from the yard, and I flinch, stumbling into Davis. He wraps an arm around my back and holds me close to his chest. I close my eyes, inhaling his steadying scent of man and leather and coffee.

Davis holds the door for me, and I step inside the Bear Creek Clinic.

Her words from earlier haunt me. I need her to understand I’ve got eyes on her. That I’m here to protect her, and I’ll do everything in my power to do so.

I ached to put a fist through the face of anyone who dared talk badly about her.

I can’t stay out of it. I don’t want animosity with Fallon, but if I have to choose between them, I’ll piss Fallon off every damn time to protect her sister.

“They won’t, okay?” I exhale. A muscle jerks in my jaw. It feels like there’s a fire growing between my ribs. “Cupcake, no one will ever know.” Anyone says an unkind word about her, I’ll hunt them down. I’ll fix this. She can’t stop me.

“You don’t have to feel strong. You’re allowed to not want this, to be fucking pissed off and sad. But I see you, Koty. And I won’t let you fall.” Dakota bites her lip, her eyes wide. “You won’t?” “No. I won’t.” I squeeze her hand. “Your baby’s in there and safe. Now we worry about you. Back on your feet, right?”

“You will. And until then, you’re not alone. Do you hear me?”

Her brow wrinkles in that adorable way of hers. A wrinkled brow means Dakota’s beautiful brain is working. So fucking smart. Always a recipe running through there, a kind word for someone, a witty remark. Keeps me on my fucking toes. I’ve always loved that about her. Her big dreams. Her beautiful brain. A reminder that Dakota McGraw is made for great things. Better things than me.

A ragged breath leaves him. “Christ, Dakota.” His brown gold-flecked gaze burns. “I told you never to wake me up. I could have hurt you.”

“Tell me his name, Dakota.” “No,” I refuse. Never. The muscle jerking in his jaw tells me he’s pissed as hell. Still, I dig in my heels. “He’s a ghost. The day I left town, I forgot his name.” “Tell me his name,” he demands again.

“I want you to be safe, Dakota.” “I’m afraid.” Another tear streaks down my cheek. “I don’t want to be alone.” “You’re not alone. You’re with me.” It’s a promise. A daydream. A husky breath that threatens to take me down.

“Knock it off,” I snap into the radio. “And stop calling her Cupcake. Christ.” That’s my nickname.

Is this why Davis has been in the Bullshit Box for the last week? Ordering supplies for me? Leaving me granola bars around the house because I have low blood sugar? Taking care of me because I can’t take care of myself?

He looms over me, his chest heaving like a bull. “I know what you’re fighting, Dakota. I know what’s inside that head of yours. I know what you’re running from. But I’m not walking away.” My whole body’s vibrating, and his words just shake it even more. “Why?” “You had to be a fighter for a goddamn long time. You had no choice. Now, you have a choice. Let someone take care of you.”

My lips part. His confession warms every part of my soul. “You can, Davis. But you don’t care about me.” An agonized sound rumbles in his throat. “You’re wrong there, Dakota. Especially about that.”

“Cupcake,” Davis whispers, pressing me back against the fridge. His body becomes a brick wall between me and the intruder. He reaches for the gun on his hip as his lips move against the cool shell of my ear. “Don’t fucking move.”

“It’s a tracker. It pairs with my phone, so I always have your GPS location.” I affix the tracker to the back of the dog tag. It’s small enough to be hidden. “One push and I’ll be there. You hear me, Cupcake? I’ll be by your side.” She stays silent—or stubborn—and I lean in. “I care, Koty, and never say I don’t.”

A frustrated growl rises in my throat. “Dammit, Dakota. Don’t push me. I can’t do my job if I’m worried that you’re not safe.”

“Move,” I growl, leveling a finger at Topper, who blocks the path to my desk. This vantage point gives me a direct line of sight into The Corner Store. If Dakota leaves the building, I’ll see her. Anyone coming and going, I’ll be ready.

Stakeouts don’t bother me. Whether it’s taking up post in the dusty desert or in a small-town police station, the objective is always the same—to serve and protect. This time, it’s someone I care about. The mission can’t go wrong. Not like the last time.

When I raise my head, I find Davis’s warm brown eyes on mine, concern etched all over his face. On his knees in front of me, he settles a firm hand on my wrist. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

“Panic attack.” Davis scoots closer, his eyes still holding mine. “But we got this, don’t we, Cupcake?” I try to wrap my arms around myself to warm the chill, but Davis takes over that duty. His big frame settles beside me and he cocoons me in his arms. Comfort. Home. His chest rises and falls and his skin is so hot, but it’s still not enough to take away the tremor in my bones. “Breathe, Dakota,” Davis says softly. “You’re safe. Just breathe.”

Instead, a jagged edge of raw want carves me up inside. I’ve kept my hands off her and now all I want to do is wrap her in my arms, keep her tucked against me forever, safe from any speck of darkness lurking in the outside world.

I bite my lip. “Do you want to feel it?” I ask. He swallows. “Yeah. I do.” He spreads a palm over the side of my stomach and holds it there. We wait. Then I watch his face soften, all his handsome features crinkling in wonder, as there’s the tiniest ripple of movement. “That’s your baby,” he rasps. An emotion I can’t place crosses his face.

All I can offer her and her baby is protection.