Allegedly

Chapter 12: Fresh grass

Rowan moved through the ranch in a haze, his thoughts churning. Emma's confession about her abusive marriage and Marcus being her stepson rattled him deeply. It was as if the entire world inside the ranch house was built on secrets-layers upon layers of hidden truths, each one more painful than the last.

His feet carried him outside, across the open field toward the stables. He hadn't intended to go there, but something about the stillness of the evening pulled him toward it. The weight of everything-the murder, Emma's past, his own confusion-pressed down on him, and he needed space. Needed clarity.

As Rowan approached the stables, he noticed a figure moving inside. At first, he thought it might be one of the ranch hands, but then he saw the familiar glint of long, dark hair, cascading down a delicate back. Ada.

She was brushing down Aithon, Emma's favorite white horse, her movements slow and methodical. The horse stood calmly, flicking its tail as Ada spoke to it in soft whispers, a quiet bond shared between them. She looked peaceful, lost in the rhythm of her work, but Rowan knew that Ada, like him, carried her own burdens.

For a moment, he stood there in silence, watching her. The way her dark hair fell around her shoulders, the curve of her small, fragile frame-there was a beauty in her that he had never allowed himself to fully see. But it wasn't just her beauty that drew him in. It was her strength. Ada had always been strong, even when the world around her was chaotic and uncertain.

Rowan's footsteps crunched softly on the straw-covered floor as he walked into the stable. Ada glanced over her shoulder, her dark lashes casting shadows over her eyes, her lips parting slightly in surprise when she saw him.

"Rowan," she said, her voice low and calm. "I didn't hear you come in."

He smiled faintly, his gaze drifting to Aithon before returning to her. "I wasn't planning on coming here. I just... needed to clear my head."

Ada gave a small nod, turning back to the horse as she continued brushing its sleek white coat. "This place does that for me. Aithon listens better than most people."

There was a softness in her voice, a vulnerability that Rowan rarely saw in her. He moved closer, his footsteps slow and deliberate, his eyes never leaving her. Something inside him shifted as he watched her-something he hadn't allowed himself to feel in a long time. It was more than attraction. It was a pull, a deep connection that had been there all along, buried beneath the weight of their shared past.

He stood beside her, watching as she ran her fingers through Aithon's mane. Her hands were small but strong, steady in a way that matched the resolve he had always admired in her. For a moment, they stood in silence, the quiet of the stable wrapping around them like a cocoon.

"Why didn't you ever tell me?" Rowan asked softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

Ada paused, her hand stilling on the horse's neck. "Tell you what?"

"That you've... felt something for me. All this time."

Ada's breath hitched, and she turned slowly to face him. Her dark eyes searched his, and for the first time in a long while, Rowan saw uncertainty flicker in them. She was always so composed, so guarded, but now, standing here with him in the quiet of the stables, she seemed vulnerable. Fragile, but no less strong.

"I didn't think it mattered," Ada whispered. "You were always lost in your own world. I didn't want to complicate things."

Rowan stepped closer, his gaze never leaving hers. "It matters. It always mattered."

The space between them seemed to shrink, and Rowan could feel the tension pulling them together. He reached out, gently tucking a strand of her dark hair behind her ear. Her breath shuddered, and for a moment, the world outside the stable disappeared.

"Ada," Rowan murmured, his voice soft but filled with emotion, "I've been running from a lot of things in my life. But I can't run from this anymore."

She stared up at him, her eyes wide, her lips parting as if to say something, but no words came. Instead, she stepped forward, closing the distance between them. Rowan felt the warmth of her body against his, the softness of her touch as her fingers grazed his arm.

The kiss was slow at first, tentative, as if they were testing the boundaries of something that had always been there but never spoken. But soon, it deepened, the months-years-of unspoken feelings flooding to the surface. Their movements became more urgent, more desperate, as they gave in to the pull between them.

Rowan's hands moved to her waist, pulling her closer, and Ada responded by wrapping her arms around his neck, her fingers threading through his hair. The scent of straw and leather filled the air, mingling with the heat of their bodies as they moved together in the soft glow of the stable.

For a moment, nothing else mattered. Not the murder, not the secrets, not the darkness that loomed over the ranch. It was just them-Rowan and Ada-lost in the intensity of the moment.

---

Later, as they lay on the soft hay beside Aithon's stall, the silence between them was thick but not uncomfortable. Rowan stared up at the wooden beams of the stable roof, his mind still spinning from the weight of everything that had happened. Ada rested her head against his chest, her breathing steady, her fingers tracing light patterns on his arm.

"I need to tell you something," Rowan said after a long pause, his voice low and serious.

Ada lifted her head, her dark eyes meeting his. "What is it?"

Rowan took a deep breath, the weight of Emma's secret pressing heavily on his chest. "It's about Emma... and Marcus."

Ada's expression darkened slightly. "What about them?"

Rowan hesitated for a moment, but he knew he couldn't keep this from her. Not after everything they had shared. "Marcus wasn't just Emma's lawyer. He was her stepson. Emma was married to Marcus's father-an abusive man. He's the reason Emma lost her sight. And she... she killed him. She killed her husband."

Ada's eyes widened in shock, and she sat up, her hand covering her mouth. "What? Rowan, are you serious?"

Rowan nodded, his expression grim. "She buried him on the property, near the old shed. The police found his body today. That's why they've been so focused on the ranch."

Ada stared at him, her mind racing as she tried to process the revelation. "And Marcus... he knew?"

"Yes," Rowan said. "He found out a few years ago. He was using it to blackmail Emma. He wanted power, money. He was just like his father."

Ada shook her head in disbelief. "God, Rowan... this changes everything."

Before either of them could say more, Rowan's attention was drawn to something near the back of the stable. A faint glint of light caught his eye, and he squinted, his gaze narrowing as he focused on a small trash bin near Aithon's stall.

Dark gloves.

Rowan stood slowly, moving toward the bin. The gloves were tucked haphazardly inside, but something about them seemed off. He reached down, pulling one out, and his stomach twisted when he saw the fresh grass stuck to the fingertips.

"Ada," Rowan said, his voice low and tense. "Look at this."

She stood and joined him, her eyes widening when she saw the gloves. "Those... those weren't here before."

Rowan turned the glove over in his hand, his pulse quickening. Fresh grass. Just like the grass they had found near Marcus's body, scattered around the open window.

Whoever had left these gloves had been involved in the murder.

Rowan's mind raced as he stared at the gloves, the weight of the discovery pressing down on him. Someone in the house was hiding more than just secrets.