Free The Fifth Season by Julie Korzenko

the barn.
    Stone shook his head. “Not particularly. But I would like your help.”
    “Emma’s story?”
    They reached the horse stalls, and Ethan tossed him a shovel. Stone grabbed it and flung open the gate to the first bay, his movements honed over years of growing up around River’s Edge. “Yeah, how’d you guess?”
    “Margaret. She was worried about her decision and asked that when the time was right I help you understand.”
    Stone huffed out a frustrated breath. “Understand? Hell, she’s pretty much confined me to jail.”
    “Help me finish the stalls, we’ll grab some brewskies and kick back in the rocking chairs. I’ll spill my guts.” Ethan pounded his fist against the wooden railings. “Deal?”
    “Deal.” Stone tucked into his chores and allowed the physical workout to heat his muscles and sooth the anger lying beneath his skin. It felt good. To be here, with a person he trusted with his life, and not hear the hollow laugh of Death.
    “I guess we’re done,” Ethan called from other end of the barn.
    Stone glanced up, rested the shovel and pitch fork he’d been using to muck the stalls and add fresh hay against the wall and surveyed the length of building. “I’d say it looks that way. Beer?”
    “You betcha,” Ethan laughed.
    They headed back to the porch. Stone fell into one of the aged rockers and kicked his boots off. Ethan returned from the house a few minutes later with a bucket laden with ice and half a dozen bottles of a brand Stone recognized as one of the local microbreweries. “This stuff any good?”
    “Yeah. Who’d figured T. J. would actually be good at anything?”
    Stone laughed. “Well, his Pa did like making moonshine.”
    “True that,” Ethan said and grinned. “What can I tell you that you haven’t already figured out about Emma?”
    “She clearly has issues and an unhealthy obsession with River Run.” Stone popped the cap off his bottle, took a healthy swig and grinned at Ethan. “Good.”
    “Are you telling me that covert ops Ranger extraordinaire Stone Connor hasn’t accessed confidential databases to unearth the identity and background of Emma O’Malley?” Ethan appeared honestly perplexed.
    “Why would I have done that?”
    Ethan barked out a hearty laugh. “Boy, she’s blinded you with those wicked green eyes and Irish red hair.”
    Stone frowned not finding any of this funny. “I realize 2 and 2 are not adding up to 4 – but why would I ever think to do a background check on her. Is she a criminal?” That thought didn’t sit well, deepening the edge of his frown.
    Ethan handed Stone another beer. “No. She’s not. She’s actually not a real person.”
    “I’m listening.” Stone stated, his tone flat in contrast to Ethan’s slightly amused lilt.
    “Don’t get pissed off until I explain. Apparently your…um, Nate owed Emma’s father a personal debt and agreed to smuggle her out of Ireland and keep her safe here in Jackson. She’s using a false name and has no formal identity in the States. Margaret donated quite a healthy sum to the local schools to keep that fact quiet. So, in a nutshell, she’s kind of in our very own homegrown Connor family witness protection program.” Ethan glanced at Stone and nodded. “It’s the truth.”
    “You don’t say,” Stone drawled. His mind worried through Ethan’s words and came up with an amount of questions that gave him a headache. “Who is she?”
    “Emilie Gallagher, daughter of an ex-Irish political leader named Hugh Gallagher. Her mother was murdered in front of her fifteen years ago. Her father disappeared, presumed dead. The man Emma claims murdered her mother is none other than Seamus Adams.”
    At that, Ethan had Stone’s undivided attention. “The dude running for Prime Minister?”
    “One and only.”
    Stone picked at the label on his beer. “I saw him on the news last night. He’s here in town.”
    “Looking for property, they say.” Ethan tilted his head and