And after all of that, after weeks of lying and drama and angst . . . it’s all over in a matter of minutes with one short—albeit difficult—conversation.

Once I escape, I immediately try to reach Reese, but her phone is still going to voice mail.

When I pull up at Jude’s, she’s not there.

Her car is gone, and inside, her clothes aren’t hanging in the closet and her box of favorite books is gone.

And of course, the first person I run into is Beast.

“Where is she?”

He shrugs his giant shoulders and I groan in frustration. Why am I asking him? I may as well ask Mr. Bojangles.

I find Jude in the backyard, cat in his lap, reading a romance novel.

“Where is she?”

“I believe our little Ms. Tootsie Roll has made her way back to the homestead.”

“But there’s still one more challenge to go.”

“There is. One final challenge and the announcement of the big winner Tuesday night. She already said she would be here for it.” He languidly turns the page.

How can he be so blasé about this?

“If she doesn’t show, the room is yours,” he adds, like that’s what I want to hear. “Although I hope she shows. I’ve got a lot of money riding on this.”

The room might be mine. It was all I wanted. But now it’s not what I want at all.

And since Reese won’t answer her phone, I’ll have to go to her.

Ten minutes later, I’m heading down the long drive, kicking up gravel as I speed my way to the Jackson ranch.

I come to a halt behind Reese’s VW and jump out of my truck, but I don’t make it very far.

“Can I help you?” Granny’s standing at the top of the patio steps with an ancient break-action shotgun.

I hold up my hands. “Can I speak with Reese, please?”

“Don’t you think if she wanted to talk to you, she’d answer her phone?”

“I reckon that’s true, but it doesn’t mean I’m gonna give up easy, ma’am.”

“And why’s that?”

“Reese means a lot to me. I’d face down this shotgun right here if it meant I could talk to her, even only for a minute.”

Her eyes squint at me, her face a blank mask.

“Tootsie Roll!” she yells so suddenly I startle. “You wanna hear what this here young gent has to say?”

“No!” The shout comes from above the porch and I step back to eye the next floor.

There’s an open window, pale curtains blowing in the breeze.

“I know you hate me right now, but can we please talk?” I call out.

There’s a long moment of silence. Reese doesn’t appear in the window. Granny caresses the trigger of her shotgun and squints harder.

Finally, Reese’s voice calls out. “Have you told your parents about Abby yet?”

I swear softly.

“That sounds like a no to me.” Granny cocks the hammer.

“Now just hold on a minute there.” I lift my hands again. “I’ve told Abby’s parents. I haven’t had a chance to talk to my own folks yet. But I will, I promise. I’ll go over there right after I leave here. If I get to leave alive,” I add.