Stubborn

by Jeanne Arnold

  “Gas gauge. The sending unit dropped out. It was reading three quarters for like a week. I should’ve known. So dang stupid.” He slapped his hat on his hip. “Believe me—it’s going back. It’s only got five thousand miles.” He shook his head.

  “That’s a lot for two months, right?”

  His brows came together. “I drove here twice. From Benjamin. It’s about twenty hours one way. I like being alone.”

  He lifted his shirt to his forehead and wiped his brow in slow motion.

  My breath hitched in my throat as I shamelessly ogled him.

  He placed his hat back on his head. “Guess we wait for somebody to stop. Or we could climb that hill and try the phone.”

  So it was okay for him to hold the phone up in the air?

  I kept up my routine checks as we ventured into the foreign landscape. Not a single bar appeared. I knew Meggie would be out looking for me at some point. But probably not until dark when she realized I had gone missing with a boy.

  Gabe shot ahead and lunged up the grassy knoll like he was being chased by a coyote. I hurried to keep up but slipped around in my flip-flops. Had I known I’d be climbing Everest, I would have dressed appropriately.

  “Aw crud,” I wailed.

  My foot skidded over a pile of boulders at the base of the eroded butte. I thought I heard a snap. It was the ankle I twisted on the courts.

  Gabe climbed higher. He yelled over his shoulder, “What did ya do?”

  I rubbed away the soreness. “Nothing,” I fibbed.

  He ran back down, taking small, quick steps. His hat flipped off his head.

  He crouched at my side. “Lemme see. You twist it again?” He ran his grease-stained fingers under my calf and straightened my leg.

  “Ahh!” I cried and jerked free of his grip. “Stop. It’s my knee too. I’ll be fine in a minute.”

  Gabe stood fast. My chin jerked up to see what was so interesting. He took a step back. The faraway look on his face frightened me.

  He spoke through his teeth. “I see footprints. Fresh ones. Right there.” He pointed to the dirt mound where I sat. “They’re round. Not dog prints. We better get going.”

  I blew out a breath. “With what? You haven’t tried the phone. Here. Run up again fast. I’ll be fine.”

  He snatched the gadget from my hand and tore up the hill. He held it in the air, testing it.

  I scanned the area around me and the marks on the ground. I could scarcely make out a smudged paw print. “Um, what kind of prints are these?”

  Gabe stopped and glanced from his high vantage point, his hand shielding his eyes from the sun. “Puma, cougar—mountain lion. They smell those carcasses along the road.” He spoke like it was nothing.

  He resumed his quest, held up the phone and checked it frequently.

  I gulped a mouthful of air. How far was the pickup? Could I crawl over? I extended my leg as far as it would go. The pain shot out like daggers. I needed some ice.

  “Getting anything?” I yelled.

  Gabe gazed into the distance. He stooped, hands on knees, and searched the pinnacled area, the wide prairie grasslands. He no longer checked the phone.

  “Av’ry,” he hissed. “If I tell you something—do it, okay?”

  Alarmed, I tried to stand.

  “Don’t freak out. Stay there.” He crouched lower. “Listen to me,” he said in his strongest Texan accent.

  I fixed my eyes on his feet as he scurried to the other side of the hill. He crouched as he ran.

  Something was lurking.

  “Stay still. I’m going to the truck. Don’t get up.”

  “What’s going on?”

  Gabe tossed an irritated look over his shoulder.

  “Gimme a minute,” he said hotly and disappeared behind my back.

  The truck door closed and he made some commotion on the ground. Then there was a snap and silence. He rounded the other side of the truck and dashed into the open, running across the field. I crooked my neck and caught him in my peripheral vision as he disappeared behind the incline.

  He left me alone. What was going on?

  Then I saw it.

  At the crest of the rocky spire were two, squinty, cat eyes. A black tail slunk back and forth in measured waves.

  “Av’ry, I got him. He’s a young one,” Gabe said, voice faint. He appeared with a long, black rifle pointing out of his shoulder. His eye was on the scope, ready to shoot.

  I wasn’t expecting to see him heavily armed. It was no wonder everybody carried firearms around like they were umbrellas.

  Gabe forced the cougar to climb so he could track him and trap him.

  “Raise your arms up. Wave ’em high. He’ll run. They’re afraid of people.”

  Obviously not. Moving went against my religion. How did he think waving hello to the feral creature would end well? If I had to, I planned to toss a rock. I had a good arm. But I wasn’t inviting my enemy over to end my life with his retracted claws. My eyes flashed from Gabe’s gun to the savage animal. Neither stirred for a long beat. Neither made a sound.

  Gabe took cautious, sideways steps toward me, his eye still on the scope.

  “I can kill it—or scare it,” he said in a firm, yet guarded voice.

  He inched closer.

  “Nothing’s gonna happen to you. I’m a perfect shot. Trust me.”

  He was arrogant.

  The echoing boom of the rifle rang out so loud I jumped out of my skin.

  “Oh no!” Adrenaline surged. My hands flew to my ears, and I held my breath waiting for a follow-up. There was only the ringing in my ears. Gabe stood two yards away. I lifted my gaze. He turned his hazel eyes downward. A touch of pride lit his expression.

  Had he scared it? Was it dead?

  “C’mon.” He grabbed my elbow and nudged me to stand. “We can’t stay here. We should get in the truck. It ran, but you never know. I could’ve pissed the hell out of it. C’mon. I’d feel safer with you in there.” He jerked his chin toward the pickup. “Your aunt will throw a hissy fit and raise hell on me.”

  The truck seemed so far away. I summoned all my energy and strength and struggled to stand on one leg.

  Gabe looked annoyed.

  “I just need a little...” Embarrassed, I swayed from side to side. “It’s my knee too. It’s messed up or something.”

  I took a few steps on my own and buckled. Gabe clasped an arm around my waist before I hit the ground. I swung my hands forward to steady myself.

  “Hold this.” He pushed the heavy rifle into my hand before I could protest my aversion. I didn’t want to hold it. In a split second, he had a hand under my knees and an arm enfolded around my back.

  “Hey! Gabe, put me down. I can get there myself,” I yelled.

  He lifted me with one rapid swoop and took off for the pickup. I wrapped my free hand around his neck and grabbed at his shirt collar. It was fleeting, but I managed to press my ear against his chest and listen to his heartbeat. His rapid pulse made me feel so alive.

  “I’m okay from here. Put me down,” I told him at the bumper. But he didn’t listen.

  Instead he carried me to the passenger side and opened the door. I scooted onto the hot seat with the rifle in hand. He shut the door.

  Once inside, Gabe set the rifle behind the seat, stored it in an oyster case, and then rolled down his window.

  “Might wanna roll yours down.” He stuck his neck outside and sucked in a deep breath. “Who knows how long we’ll be here. Semis don’t stop for squat.”

  He dropped his head on the headrest, ran a hand through his hair, and set his arm along the seat behind me.

  I lifted two warm drinks off the ground. “Drink up if that’s the case.”

  He tipped his head. “How’s your knee?”

  I considered him for a moment and forced a smile. “Fine.”

  “Your ankle looks a little blue—and fat.”

  My smile faded. I lifted my ankle over my good knee and grimaced. It was sor
t of blue. And it hurt.

  Gabe stretched across the seat and popped the glove box open. I inhaled his shampoo once again. The smell made me lightheaded. He fished through numerous crumpled carbon copies, a paperback book and some gum wrappers, and pulled out a red and blue bandana the size of a baby blanket. Upon further inspection, I decided it was the flag of Texas.

  “I’ll wrap it.” He shook the cloth open then folded it into a line. “Tight is best, if you wanna be able to walk.”

  I chewed my lip. It was going to smart. I moaned as Gabe grabbed my good knee and twisted me on the seat so I could stretch out my leg.

  He curled a hand around my foot and set it on his knee. Wrapping methodically, he wound the fabric around and tucked it in.

  I sighed and let my lids fall closed. “Thanks,” I said coolly, despite my trembling lips.

  He didn’t let go.

  “Where’s it hurt?” He pressed his fingers into the sides of my heel. “Here?”

  He slid his deft fingers up to my ankle and squeezed. I would have had goose bumps crawling all over, but it hurt like heck.

  “Ah! Stop it,” I cried. “That kills.” I swallowed hard and regretted my pitiful outburst.

  “It’s just a sprain. You’ll live.” His lips pressed together.

  I glared at him. He had to know how nice he was to look at.

  I pulled myself up straight against the seat. “Thanks, doc. Like I didn’t know.”

  “Mighty hot, huh? Feels like home.”

  “How long until somebody comes? Are we talking days here?” I asked.

  I was only half kidding.

  Just then a red, duel cab pickup with oversize tires passed us and slammed on the brakes. It drove in reverse and stopped at the highway’s edge. An unexplained power granted my wish much sooner than I expected.

  I rested my gaze on Gabe’s face, puzzled when I spied him lock his jaw. He made no move and stared straight ahead. I poked a finger at his shirtsleeve.

  His eyes looked right through me. “We’re not going. Stay put.”

  I glanced out the window and tried to figure out why we couldn’t accept help.

  A short, husky man climbed out of the vehicle and made his way to my window. “Afternoon,” he said while tapping my door with a manicured nail. He wore the most remarkable diamond watch I had ever seen. “You need a ride? Run outta gas?”

  He rested his beady eyes on Gabe. His gaze swung back to me. His grin grew wide.

  “Is that it? You outta gas?”

  Did they know each other?

  I could have cut the tension with a chainsaw. The guy was nowhere near our age, but he wasn’t threatening in stature.

  Gabe remained silent.

  “Yeah. We need gas or a ride. There’s a cougar prowling around.” The man seemed nice enough.

  Gabe’s hand slid across the seat like a cobra and grabbed hold of my wrist. A spasm rocked my torso. What was going on? I swallowed against the lump in my throat. He didn’t let go.

  “I’m heading to Williston. Hop on in. I’ll take you wherever you want,” the man offered. He turned his back on us to study the landscape. “Sure is hot out here. Wouldn’t wanna see you melt.”

  “We’re not going,” Gabe hissed through his teeth. “You’re not going with him.” He released my hand.

  I turned to him and whispered, “Uh, yeah I am. I’m not staying here and waiting for my turn at being cougar kibble. What’s the big deal? We’ll ride back and get some gas.”

  If the guy was some kind of ax murderer, I’m sure Gabe would have put up a bigger stink or pulled out his rifle.

  Or maybe not.

  He gazed off into the distance, expression flat, detached. Was he too proud to accept help?

  “Suit yourself. I’m not going.”

  I didn’t have time to drag an explanation out of him.

  He shot a sideways glance at me. “Gimme your phone.”

  I didn’t bother to ask why. I slapped the item in his hand and watched as he added a name and number to the address book.

  “Call Caleb when you get reception. Tell him where you are right away. I mean it. Then tell him I’m stuck out on the 85 past the bend. Watch yourself,” he warned and dropped his gaze to my ankle. He stretched past me to push open the door. His arm brushed across my legs.

  I inhaled his scent one last time as he practically pushed me out the door.

  I limped to the red truck, wincing with each painful step. As soon as I could make a call, I would feel better. The man watched in his rearview mirror as I hobbled around the vehicle, the Texas flag on my foot. My breath pulled in at the sight of his well-stocked rifle rack. When I approached the passenger door, the contents of my stomach flipped. My hands trembled as I read the screen-printed logo—Longbranch Oil Co.

  No wonder Gabe wouldn’t budge.

  Was he a friend of Hunt’s?

  “Hi.” I tried to mask my hesitance. I had no other choice but to climb in his truck. He was my only way home.

  My foot hurt like heck when I stepped on the runner and pulled myself up. The AC was a welcome incentive to fight back the pain and ride out the ride for the sake of rescue. Country rock music, crock, as Aunt Meggie coined it, played in the door speakers. Once settled in the seat, I rubbed my ankle and remained quiet.

  “He’s still sore at Hunt over the whole mishap with Eli and Jordan. He won’t admit his brother had a drinking problem. So how do you know the Haldens?” The man spoke coolly as he flipped through the tracks of his mp3 player. His diamond watch sparkled brilliantly in the sun.

  Did he know Gabe? How dare he call Eli’s accident a mishap? The sides of my mouth turned down. “Who?” I asked, clueless.

  “The Haldens, HalRem,” he repeated as if I had a clue. “Gabe.”

  My head spun. The hairs on my arms stood. HalRem—as in Halden-Remington? How on earth did I not know that? How did I not know their last name?

  “I, um, just met them.”

  I was in no shape to make small talk. I couldn’t wrap my head around the idea Gabe was a Halden. Gabriel Halden. It rung effortlessly.

  But why did he and Caleb live in Meggie’s rundown coop if they were heirs to a multi-billion dollar industry?

  I flipped the phone open. Still no coverage.

  The man turned a sharp eye on me. “No reception until Alexander. It’s just a ways up the road. I gotta make a stop. Won’t take long. I need a minute with my boss. He’s got a ranch on the back of town. You’d like to meet him. I know he’d like to meet you.”

  My chest tightened. The pounding in my ears was deafening. He wasn’t taking me to Williston. Everything my parents taught me about avoiding strangers flew out the window. I wished I had listened to Gabe. He knew I was making a bad move.

  “I have to be home,” I said with a tremulous voice.

  I wanted the man to change his mind and keep driving through.

  Alexander. I could read the green population sign up ahead. My junior class had more people than the dinky town. I contemplated asking the man to stop for a bathroom break. But I had a feeling there wasn’t going to be a store or even a gas station for like a hundred miles. The truck pulled up to a minivan waiting behind a line of water tankers at a stoplight. The van blew black smoke out of the tailpipe. My gaze jumped to three HalRem tractor-trailers lined up like toy trucks outside a bar converted from a general store. It was the only building on the street that appeared open.

  “Can I run in that tavern and use the ladies room? I’m not going to make it.” Indignity marked my voice. It was all I could come up with.

  “We’ll be at my boss’s any minute. You can wait,” he told me and laughed.

  His voice unnerved me. What was so funny?

  “I can’t wait.” I gulped my fear in a loud, forced swallow. “I’ll be real quick. Let me out.”

  The lock on my door bolted. The sound blasted through me like a bullet leaving a pistol.

  He was warning me. His voice tightened. “You can
wait.”

  I ran a checklist. I wasn’t belted. I’d probably be able to get a call out in this one horse town. I had to run. The light went green. We sat behind the smoking minivan as the tankers pulled away. Fight or flight kicked in. Flight was more feasible. My hand floated to my door handle and I pressed the lock open and pushed on the door at the exact same time. Just in case he tried to lock me in when he realized what I was doing.

  “I’ll scream,” I warned and jumped down.

  I landed square on my bad ankle. I knocked my shoulders into the rear door panel then whimpered as I fell to my knees. The truck door slammed and the tires pealed. I bit the bullet and somehow arrived on the porch of the timeworn tavern. I slumped onto a bench and watched until I could no longer see the truck driving through town. I pulled myself together long enough to open the phone and check for bars.

  It was a miracle. One bar lit up. There were six new messages, but I needed to make my call first. I ran my finger over the address book and almost choked. Gabe had typed Caleb Halden into the phone. Had the creepy guy not spilled the beans in the truck, I would have figured it out on my own.

  “Yeah, Meggie?” asked the voice on the other line.

  Caleb had caller ID.

  I blew out my breath. “No. It’s me—Avery Ross. Caleb, me and Gabe got stuck out somewhere near the Bad Lands.” I took a deep breath and exhaled hard. “And we ran out of gas and this guy came by and I got in his truck and he was...” I wheezed and tried to catch a breath, but he interrupted.

  “Avery! I’ve been out looking for y’all everywhere. Where the hell are you?” He hollered into my ear.

  “I don’t know. Alexandria or Alexander?” I said, flushed with exertion. “There’s a bar. You know it?”

  “I’m about two miles away. Where the heck’s Gabe?”

  I got slowly to my feet and tested my ankle. “Back on the 85 near a bend. He wouldn’t go with the guy. I didn’t want to stay. There was a cougar. Gabe’s got a gun.”

  Caleb laughed into the phone.

  “A gun? You mean a thirty-ought-six,” he said knowingly. “He’s fine. Long as he’s got his books and a gun. Don’t worry.”