Tangled in Divine [Divine Creek Ranch 14] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)

by Heather Rainier

  He’d told her back then not to worry about him, or the situation. He’d said that one thing remained true. Even if marriages ended or people died, the land would always be there for her. It would last. Now even it was gone.

  * * * *

  Chris Potter stood with his best friend, Julián, looking at watches at Clay Cook Jewelers while they chatted with Lily Cook, who also happened to married to their boss, Del, and his brother Clay. The gorgeous redhead removed the fancy watch Julián pointed at from the case so he could take a closer look at it.

  Chris heaved a disgusted sigh. Chickenshit. Chickenshit. Chickenshit.

  Julián glanced at him and showed him the watch. “What do you think?”

  I think you’re being a chickenshit. “Eh. It’s okay.”

  Julián tilted his head. “You don’t think she’ll like it?”

  On numerous occasions, Chris had seen the way Julián acted after phone conversations with Gwen. Saw the way he looked when he got a text message from her, or when he gazed at her pictures on his phone. The guy was in love with her. And he was looking at watches?

  “It’s a nice watch…I guess.”

  Julián grimaced and handed the watch back to Lily, and she said, “Would you like me to give you some time to browse, Julián?”

  Julián smiled at her and replied, “No, Lily, he’s right. This woman means something to me. A watch is not quite…”

  Lily smiled back at him and said, “Want a recommendation? From a friend?”

  Now this is more like it. Tell him, Lily.

  “Sure.”

  Lily gestured to them both and they followed her down the row of cases until she stopped behind one filled with fancy rings. Julián scratched his neck, suddenly looking a little uncomfortable.

  Lily put out a reassuring hand and said, “Hear me out. These are fashion rings, not engagement rings.”

  There’s a difference?

  “Let’s just say that you think about her a lot—and you want her to know that—but you’re not proposing…yet.” Lily smiled as she lifted a ring from a case and showed it to him. Julián made a speculative sound and Chris leaned closer so he could have a look at it.

  “It’s yellow gold, and all the tiny diamonds are set so they won’t snag on anything, so she could wear it all the time”—she smiled broadly—“and think of you every time she sees it. There’s plenty of room inside the band if you’d like to have something romantic inscribed, too. The diamonds are all good quality but very small so I don’t think she’d feel overwhelmed. It’s a very sentimental gift. And it’s not an engagement ring.”

  Chris finally spoke up. “She’s right. You can go with the watch, if you want, but this little ring seems understated enough that she won’t freak out but nice enough that she knows you care about her.”

  Julián still looked unsure and handed the ring back to Lily. “I’m not sure. I don’t want her to take it the wrong way. It might shock her.”

  Chris wanted to land his fist on the top of Julián’s head and knock some sense into his brain. The guy practically mooned over that woman.

  Another customer waved at Lily in the busy store, and she said, “Why don’t I give you gentlemen a few minutes? I’ll help this customer and come right back to you.”

  “Sounds great,” Chris said. Long enough for me to pound sense into this guy. He nodded toward the quiet spot by the front door and Julián followed him.

  “I’m sorry, Chris. I know it’s getting late—”

  “It ain’t that, Julián. Lemme ask you something. Is there a chance you may never see her face-to-face again? If she’s busy with her new career and you’re busy here or wherever else you move on to? Will you lose your chance if you don’t do something about it—like now—to let her know how you feel?”

  “We didn’t have that much time together, alone, Chris. I’m worried she’ll think I’m a stalker.”

  Chris scoffed. “Last time you were on the phone with her it was for over an hour. She knows you’re not a stalker, damn it. It’s a little ring, a nice ring, but not an engagement ring. I think she’d like it. And maybe it would get her thinking too.”

  Julián arched an eyebrow at Chris. “You gonna don a diaper, little golden wings, and a golden bow and arrow next?”

  “Just fucking call me Cupid. You look happy when you talk to her, even if it’s only on the phone. I think you need to go for it. Fucking carpe diem.” An elderly customer grimaced in shock at him as she moved past them. “Sorry, ma’am. You weren’t supposed to hear that. How’re you doin’?” He winked at her and grinned, and she flapped her hand at him as she blushed and snickered.

  “How someone can be such a damned coarse oaf and still charm women is beyond me,” Julián said as the old lady winked back and went on her way.

  “It’s a gift I have, Julió. Go buy your lady that ring. It’s a nice one.”

  As they returned to the case containing the ring, Chris wondered if someday he’d find someone who’d want to wear his ring. He joked around a lot about being charming but it was all bullshit. And it was easy to flirt with elderly ladies. He’d honed that skill watching his father, uncles, and older brothers charming all the women in their family. Charming women he was attracted to was entirely different. He was big, and he was mature enough to admit he was pug ugly. It was a fact of his life.

  * * * *

  Gwen sat on the cold, stiff, cracked seat of the idling truck, her old Dodge Ram dually, and stared at the literal and figurative crossroads before her. Roger and her dad had tried to get her to stay at least for the night at Roger’s ranch but she’d refused. If she sat down or stopped, she might not be able to get up. She might fall apart. By getting right back on the road, she didn’t miss a beat. She’d done it before—or close. Arriving home one day and leaving the next.

  Still uncertain which way to turn out of Roger’s long driveway, she lifted her phone from the seat when she heard the soft tone.

  She swiped the screen and clicked the notification when she saw who had responded to her earlier status update. Julián Alvarez. Her heart fluttered just from thinking his name.

  As she read his comment, her heart twisted in her chest. “Wish I was there, or that there was here.”

  She whispered sadly, “You don’t want to be here right now. Trust me.” She gripped the cold, hard steering wheel after laying the phone down on the seat with his words still visible.

  Trying to decide which way to head—north or south—she felt a tap, tap, tap on her upper thigh. Looking down, she realized it was tears dripping from her chin. She’d held them at bay until she was alone in the truck and they’d flowed nonstop as she’d driven away and left her dad and Roger standing there. Her dad had looked heartbroken.

  The only thing Gwen could think of that had been harder than this was when her sister, Ruth, had died of leukemia at age fourteen on Christmas Day, when Gwen was eighteen. The same depression that came every year at that time filled the cab of the truck, only this time it was more intense.

  The Bucking H Ranch had always been home. With it as her anchor, she could head out to face the world and all the competitions, knowing she had something to return to, but now it was gone. Zephyr was gone. She’d been close to passing out from a combination of anger and pain when she’d discovered that Zephyr had been reloaded in her trailer and driven off the ranch before Gwen had even finished talking to her dad in the office. She never even got to say good-bye.

  Her hands trembled as they found the familiar grooves on the steering wheel and she turned left, south, and set out with no particular destination.

  Snow was falling steadily, so she decided to not make any calls until she stopped. She needed both hands on the wheel. There had been times in her other, newer truck, which had its own Internet hotspot and hands-free calling, that she’d driven many miles on the road while talking with Julián. She’d gotten spoiled by the luxury of her new truck and her horse trailer which had comfortable, air-conditioned living quar
ters in it. Necessity dictated making do with what she had for now. The old horse trailer had a small living quarters in it too but the accommodations were bare bones and it would be cold sleeping in there.

  She needed to get in touch with Caughlin and Abigail McIntyre, who were longtime friends of her family. They might be able to help her find a horse to ride until she could get her horse back. This is such a long shot. Competing on a horse I don’t know very well, if they even know of anyone who might have one. Thinking of Zephyr made the ache in her heart increase and the tears flowed again.

  The sun shone in brief, delicate rays through the clouds. With no one in front of her or behind her on the deserted state highway, she stopped long enough to take out her phone and snap a picture before uploading it, as was her habit.

  “Home is behind. The world is ahead.”

  An hour later, Gwen walked out of the post office in Rio Blanco after checking her mailbox. She looked down at the stack of mail, mostly Christmas cards judging by the colorful envelopes.

  She tore into a red envelope and smiled. It was one of those photo greeting cards that families did so often nowadays. Teresa Martinez was surrounded by the men who adored her, Angel and Joaquin, and her two sons, Michael and Eleazar. Teresa looked serene and beautiful, with her hands clasped with those of her husbands’. Gwen knew that Teresa’s happiness had been hard won. That sentiment seemed as far beyond Gwen’s grasp as the moon and the stars. It felt odd to not be able to muster emotion one way or another about that.

  The snow had stopped, and she took the opportunity to take stock of the small living quarters located at the front of the trailer. In retrospect, she realized it hadn’t been very smart to drive off like that, having only checked that the gooseneck trailer was securely hitched to the old truck. She didn’t even know if there was food and supplies. It wasn’t a good idea to set off on a trip through the Rocky Mountains, not knowing if she had food, medical supplies, or even fuel for a campfire if by chance she needed one.

  She shook her head, still numb, and whispered, “Stupid. Do better from now on or you’re going to get yourself in a world of hurt.” She was used to doing for herself on the road. Many of her rodeo friends enjoyed traveling with an entourage or at least companions, but she’d always preferred quiet when on the road, which was why she’d never given in to the impulse to go into full-on luxury travel mode as a champion.

  As she suspected, the cupboards were bare. After pulling into a local grocery store, she located the manila envelope, counted out ten twenty-dollar bills, and stashed the envelope without looking further at the contents. Somewhere in the back of her mind it registered that she should count that money, so she’d know what she had to budget with, like she had in the early days on the road. She didn’t want to. It also registered that she didn’t care how much was in there.

  “Acting crazy, Gwen,” she whispered to herself as she climbed from the truck again, made sure her possessions and the truck were secure, and went inside the small-town grocery store for provisions and a small space heater. Between the down-filled sleeping bag she’d found rolled up on the bunk and the heater, she’d be able to stay warm when she slept. The odd thing that she noted was the feeling of aloneness. Traveling with Zephyr, having the responsibility of her care, she’d never felt alone. She did now, as she climbed back into the truck cab and started the engine.

  She was about to put the truck in gear when her phone rang in her coat pocket. Recognizing the number, she put the phone to her ear, mildly curious at the emotional flatness she felt at the prospect of talking to one of her dearest friends. “Teresa. How are you?”

  “‘Home is behind. The world is ahead.’ What the fuck kind of dramatic bullshit is that?”

  Teresa’s uncharacteristic use of such language caused Gwen to raise an eyebrow. “I’m on a road trip.”

  “You just got home. You’re exhausted. You should be resting. Why are you on the road again?”

  “It’s a long story.”

  “I’m all ears.”

  “I don’t feel like talking.”

  “If you’re on a road trip, what’s your destination?”

  “Not sure at this point.”

  “Come to Divine. It’s warmer here than where you are and we’d love to see you.” In her present state, Gwen wasn’t sure that was a good idea. “The boys would love to see you too.”

  Sure, pull out the big guns. Michael and Eleazar both had her wrapped around their little fingers. She wasn’t ready to tell anyone about what had happened though.

  “I’ll give you a call and let you know if I can.”

  “Please be careful.”

  She ended the call, thinking that it would be nice to head somewhere a little warmer, but she felt unfit for human companionship. Rodeo competitions wouldn’t start up again until early spring, so she had time in front of her to consider her next move. She’d see some of the places she’d had to bypass while on the way to rodeo events. Take time for herself—to contemplate her next move. She turned off the ringer on her phone and put it in her pocket. Uninterrupted time to think was what she needed right now. She’d make some calls when she stopped for the night.

  * * * *

  Having completed the purchase and the priority shipping and insurance information for the ring, Julián and Chris left Clay Cook Jewelers and climbed into Julián’s pickup.

  Chris buckled up and said, “Close to supper. Want to go get a steak?”

  “Sure.”

  Julián picked his phone up from the truck console where it’d been charging to check for messages or voice mail as he started the truck. Worry knotted in his chest when he saw the status update from Gwen. He checked his watch.

  “Something wrong?”

  Julián turned the phone so Chris could see, curious what he’d make of Gwen’s latest posting. “She wrote that at noon.”

  “Kinda cryptic. I thought she just got home…like home for good. That don’t sound right to me.”

  Julián found her number and put through a call. All he got was voice mail with her standard greeting. He left a message for her to call him anytime night or day.

  “You okay?” Chris asked.

  “I’m worried about her. I looked at the responses to that post. There must be twenty comments asking if she’s okay and she’s not replied to any of them. She always responds to her friends. She didn’t reply to my comment from earlier in the day either.”

  “Can you call her dad?”

  “I don’t have his number. Teresa may know it.”

  “Give her some time to get back in touch with you. Maybe her Internet is out.”

  “Could be, I guess.” But worry continued to grow in his heart.

  They enjoyed a quiet steak dinner at O’Reilley’s, each lost in his own thoughts. The waitress had just brought the check to the table, leaving it in Chris’s easy reach so that he grabbed it before Julián could.

  “You get the next one,” Chris said as he chuckled and reached for his back pocket.

  “Can you reach it, Guido?”

  Chris gave him a subtle middle-finger salute. “I can reach my back pocket just fine, Julió.”

  “Okay, good, because I’m not putting my hand in your pocket just because you’re all muscle-bound and shit.”

  Julián pulled out his wallet to leave a tip as the man sitting alone at the table next to them rose from his seat. Something about his demeanor drew Julián’s eyes. The man squinted around the room as he removed two short stacks of change from his pants pocket and left them on the table.

  He was dressed neatly but he had a look about him that seemed somehow frayed around the edges, both personally and appearance-wise. The creases on his pressed dress shirt were practically transparent from frequent ironing. His gaze settled on Julián and he nodded perfunctorily as he reached into his other pocket and suddenly did an odd, spasmodic little dance.

  The movement drew Chris’s attention too as something made a metallic thunk at the man’s fo
ot. In his disjointed movements, the man turned and lobbed whatever had fallen across the floor. Julián looked down at the bulky key ring that came to a sudden stop against his boot. He reached down as the man floundered around searching the floor for what he’d lost.

  “He must have a hole in his pocket,” Chris said as Julián lifted the key ring in his hand.

  Must be a damned big hole for that to fall through it. That would explain the herky-jerky dance he was doing, though.

  The ring was filled with an odd assortment of keys, small ones for padlocks, house keys, lockboxes, and even a couple of skeleton keys. Someone with that many keys had a shitload of stuff locked up tight somewhere.

  He got the attention of the man whose nerves looked to be every bit as frayed as his clothing and lifted the key ring in his hand. “I think this must be what you’re looking for, sir.”

  The man nodded as he walked over to their table and said, “Thank you.” He squinted at Julián and then at Chris, nodded, and turned to walk away.

  “Have a good evening, Mr. Smith,” his waitress called as she began clearing his table.

  The man grumbled, looked back at Julián and Chris with a trace of suspicion in his eyes before he hurried out of the restaurant.

  “Odd,” Chris said as he frowned after the man. “And cheap,” he added as he shook his head, watching the waitress rake the coins off the table into her hand.

  The waitress must’ve heard him because she smiled and shrugged. “I don’t mind Mr. Smith. He’s been coming here once a week for about a twelve years, or so I’m told. He orders the same exact thing every time, and leaves the same tip every time too. At least he’s neat and low maintenance. Did you enjoy your meal?”