Julián nodded along with Chris. “It was very good, like always.” He pulled some extra cash out of his wallet and left it on the table for her, to make up for the other man’s stinginess.
They were walking out of the restaurant when they saw Mr. Smith drive by in an older-model Mustang. Clean and road-safe, but not exactly showroom worthy.
Chris chuckled. “As stingy as he was with that little waitress, I would’ve expected him to drive an old beat-up Ford Falcon or something. Did you get a load of all those keys? That was weird looking.”
“I know. Someone with that many keys is bound to have plenty of secrets.”
Chapter Three
Julián and Chris rode on horseback over the rolling hills of the Cook Ranch, checking on the livestock and the fences, watchful for any sections in need of repair. He removed his phone from his pocket when it rang, and caught Chris’s concerned gaze. After glancing at the screen, he said, “It’s Teresa,” and answered, “Hello?” Hope kindled in his heart that Teresa had finally heard from Gwen.
“Hi, it’s me again. Have you heard from her?” The worry in Teresa’s tone added to his own. They’d been trying to reach Gwen for three days. She’d continued with her Facebook updates and landscape photos, as she’d eventually made her way south, toward Texas. Her last post had been the night before, in Big Bend National Park, near the Texas and Mexico border. Desolate territory for a woman on her own. The knowledge that Gwen probably knew that area as well as the back of her hand didn’t ease his worry at all.
“No, I haven’t heard from her. Has she posted?” He’d tried calling her several times but the calls always went to voice mail. He hated feeling powerless. Gwen had become incredibly self-sufficient over the years out of necessity, but that didn’t change the fact that he wanted to fix whatever was wrong for her. He knew that probably wouldn’t go over very well with her. He was starting to not care if it pissed her off or not.
“Yes. Halfway between Fort Stockton and Junction, in Ozona. Do you think she’s coming here?”
From Big Bend back up into West Texas in an easterly direction. “I hope to hell so. I wonder what happened.”
“I tried calling her dad at home but there was no answer. I don’t know his cell phone number. If she doesn’t answer her phone soon, I’m calling Hank. This is so out of character for her, not to be in touch. I think something bad must’ve happened. It’s Christmas Eve. She shouldn’t be on the road all by herself, just taking pictures and posting them on Facebook, and not talking to anybody.”
“Tell you what. How about I take a drive out west on Interstate 10 and just see if I spot her. There are those rest stops at Sonora.”
“Would you, Julián? I would, but—”
“No. Nope. Let me do it.”
“If you find her, bring her here, Julián. I don’t care if you have to rope her ass and drag her to the ranch. Something’s happened and we need to get to the bottom of it.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Julián said with a smile. Teresa was the definition of sweet and demure, but she was protective as a mama bear when it came to her friends and her family.
When he’d ended the call, Chris asked, “Still no word from Gwen?”
“Nothing. The only reason we even know what direction she’s heading is because she has her GPS connected to her Facebook. Every time she posts a picture, a location comes up with it. Crested Butte. Florissant Fossil Beds. Great Sand Dunes National Monument. Rio Grande Gorge and White Sands in New Mexico. Carlsbad Caverns and then over the Texas border to Big Bend. She’s covered a shitload of miles.”
“Lots of…sand.”
“Some pretty desolate terrain. Her last stop was in Ozona, Teresa said.”
“Not that far. Want me to come along?”
“Nah. I know you needed to run into town. I’ll be home later this evening, hopefully with her in tow.” He suddenly had an image of her broken down on the side of the road and regretted his word choice.
Chris nodded. “I have a feeling you’re gonna find her. It’s the not knowing that’s driving you crazy.”
“You’re right.”
They both urged their horses into a trot and headed back to the barn near the house on the Cook Ranch where they lived. Julián climbed into his black Ford F-250, waved as Chris got into his red Dodge Ram, and followed his friend down the driveway. Chris took a left to drive to Divine, and he took a right to head out toward the interstate. She should be fairly easy to spot in her fancy fire-engine red dually. If she was traveling with Zephyr, she’d be even easier to spot, with that luxury horse trailer hitched to her truck.
* * * *
Chris hummed along with Gary Allan as he sang “Right Where I Need To Be” on the radio while turning into the drive-thru at Divine Drip. He had a hankering for a snack, and one of Cassie’s kolaches and a fresh cup of coffee would do the trick. He eased past the decrepit truck and horse trailer that were double-parked in the parking lot and shook his head. It looked like moving day for someone, since the horse trailer was filled to the roof with plastic bags, boxes, and drop cloth-covered furniture.
“Damn, I’d hate to be moving on Christmas Eve.”
The rig had crud caked to the wheel wells and fenders like it had come a great distance through snow, salt, mud, and ice, which was slowly melting into great clods on the ground around the tires. It was cold as a well digger’s ass in Divine, but wherever that rig had come from it was even colder.
A cold front had blown through the night before and he grimaced at the blast of cold air that hit him in the face as he rolled his window down and pulled up to the drive-thru window. He greeted Cassie when she ran up and opened it, gathering her sweater around her to ward off the chilly temperature.
“Hey, Chris! I just pulled some fresh sausage kolaches from the oven. Want some coffee too?”
Chris grinned at the vivacious woman. “How you doin’, Cass? I’ll take a couple of those kolaches and the biggest cup of coffee you got.”
Cassie set to work putting his order together and called out, “Cream and four sugars, coming up! You all ready for Christmas? Seeing family tomorrow?”
“No, I spent Saturday night at home with them and came back yesterday. Got to see my folks, my brothers and sisters, cousins, grandparents, aunts, uncles—you name it, I saw it.”
“You’re from Junction, right? That must be nice to have so much family, and for them to be not too far away.”
“Yeah, it’s nice,” he said with a nod as she handed him his order of kolaches in a white paper bag. “But a little loud when we’re all talking, which is all the time. My ears are still ringing.”
“I can imagine. I put an extra kolache in there for you. Merry Christmas.” He began to roll forward as Cassie called out. “Wait, Chris! Don’t forget your coffee.”
Chris stopped the truck with a jolt, and laughed as Cassie leaned out of the window with his big cup of coffee and he met her in the middle. “Merry Christmas to you too, Cass.”
He winked and rolled forward as she blew him a cheeky kiss. He heard a frightened yelp and a soft thump on the hood of the Dodge, and his heart lurched with fear.
Holy shit! Engage brain before accelerator!
He squinted out the windshield and his heart did a double take when he saw the frightened little face peeking out from the fuzzy Elmer Fudd hat that was just inches above the truck hood.
Oh God! Did I hit her?
He shifted into park and sat there, glued to his seat, staring like a dumbass, watching as the fear and pain left her deep blue eyes and was replaced by absolute fury.
She slammed her bare hand down on the hood and began shouting at him. Firing obscenities at him until the air practically turned blue, she was the most stupendously, majestically beautiful angry woman he’d ever seen in his life.
* * * *
“You stupid motherfucker! Don’t you have eyes? Where did you get your driver’s license from? A Cracker Jack box? You could’ve killed me, you big dumbass!�
� The guy in the black cowboy hat sat there frozen, staring at her for several long seconds, then suddenly he threw open his door. “You need a keeper—or–or—glasses! You blind dumbass mother—”
He climbed down from the truck and the rest of the epithets froze in her throat when he stood to his full height. He was enormous and he stood there staring silently at her, his expression unreadable as he closed the truck door and quickly crossed the distance between them.
She backed up, her heart in her throat and her elbow throbbing. She’d struck it against his grill in a reflexive movement when his vehicle had rolled toward her as she walked out of the coffee shop. He caught her by the upper arms and yanked her toward him as another vehicle pulled around his, the irritated driver tooting his horn and giving them a dirty look.
“Careful,” he murmured in a soft tone.
She jerked her arms loose from his big hands as another vehicle behind his in the drive-thru line honked at his truck, which was blocking the window.
The woman who worked behind the counter called out through the window, “Everything okay, Chris?”
Distracted, he turned his face away so she could see his craggy profile topped by his black felt cowboy hat and called out, “Yeah, I nearly hurt this little lady. I’ll move the truck. Sorry, Cassie!”
Little lady, please!
To her, he said, “I’ll be right back. Where are you parked?” He gently cupped her upper arms again as though he thought she needed steadying. The caring humanity in his touch nearly undid her. She couldn’t have that.
“Don’t bother. I’m fine. Jerk. Just watch where you’re going, damn it.” She tugged her arms from him again and gestured at her truck and horse trailer which looked really sad and dilapidated as the ice thawed and melted off of it, making a mess out of the neat little parking lot. This was the first day of above-freezing temperatures she’d seen since her little journey had begun, but even then it was still frigidly damp. “My vehicle is right there. Just”—she glanced into his deep brown eyes that were ringed with jet-black lashes—“leave me alone. I’ll be fine.” It didn’t help when her voice cracked on the last word.
Yeah, real convincing there, Gwen. Keep it up and maybe he’ll kiss your boo-boos.
“You look anything but fine. Let me move my truck. I’m not satisfied that you’re uninjured.” He peered around the big red Dodge Ram and grunted when he saw what she’d been pointing at. “Go sit, and I’ll be right there.”
Once she was past the lane of traffic in the parking lot, he released her elbow and hurried back to his truck. He probably wished that he could just head on to whatever task he’d been about before he’d nearly flattened her with that big-ass truck.
Why do men drive trucks like that? So damned high you practically need a rope ladder to climb in. They must be making up for little bitty dicks.
She noticed that he didn’t seem to expend any effort getting back into the vehicle, but then again he was a freaking giant. She walked to her truck thinking that he had to be at least six feet six inches tall—
“Oh, fuck a duck!”
She stood there on the damp asphalt, staring at a flat tire on her trailer. Another one! Damn it!
There was a time, early in her barrel racing career, when she would’ve approached this situation with a sense of adventure. She’d learned early on to be well prepared, self-sufficient, and that whining did no good. She had spares. She had hands, and tools. She could fix this.
But damn it, this is the third time in as many days I’ve had to change a flat on that trailer!
She’d misplaced her leather work gloves somewhere in Colorado after the first tire change, so her hands were like hamburger meat from handling the second tire change in the cold and ice somewhere on the roads in New Mexico. Top that off with having to patch a radiator hose and fiddle with a windshield wiper blade that kept freezing up. Her hands didn’t look like ladies’ hands. In fact they even looked rough for a man’s hands.
My life sucks! I need a break, and a nap!
At least she’d made it to Divine, where she had friends. She reached in her coat pocket for her phone and recalled that she’d misplaced it and still hadn’t found it. She was hopeful that it was either in the small bunk area of her trailer, or that it was under the seat in the truck cab. She hadn’t been able to find it after her last rest stop in Ozona.
She cradled her head in her hands and plopped down on the fender of the trailer as emotional and physical exhaustion caught up with her. Closing her eyes made her dizzy so she reopened them. She heard a door thump in the distance and then rapid footsteps approaching.
“Hey, Elmer Fudd. Were you hunting wabbits?”
Hardy-har-har. That’s so original.
She knew it was the enormous cowboy and had a feeling he wouldn’t let her get away with ignoring him. He stood in front of her, his stance wide and confident as he waited.
She looked up, and up, and up, until she finally made eye contact with him. His cocky grin irritated her for some reason and the twinkle in his eyes…what was it about his chocolaty brown eyes that disarmed her? She should be pissed. He could’ve seriously injured her and now he wanted to be cute?
“Don’t insult my hat. My grandpa gave it to me before he died. Where I’ve come from, I needed it. I don’t take kindly to hypothermia…or to rude cowboys.”
He made a sympathetic sound and squatted down in front of her, his eyes still twinkling and his lower lip pooched out. “I’m sorry, Elmer. Let’s see your boo-boo.” He held out his hands but didn’t touch her again. She looked down and suddenly gulped.
Even squatting, he was at eye level with her sitting on the trailer fender. In that position she had a pretty good guess that he was not making up for lack of manhood by driving that big-ass truck. It looked like the cock fairy had taken kindly to him and tapped him three or four times.
She bit her lip. Dayum!
The cowboy cocked his head and caught her eye. “Hey, Elmer? Take off your coat and let’s see that elbow. You may need an X-ray.”
“I doubt that, cowboy. And my name isn’t Elmer.”
His craggy face broke into a mischievous smile. “I was hoping it wasn’t.”
He finally took the collar of her coat and pulled on it until she relented and let him slide her arm out of the sleeve. She pulled back a little, realizing that she hadn’t had a shower that morning and she probably smelled bad. She’d cleaned up, but the rest stop she’d pulled into had only had basic facilities. Where’s a Buc-ee’s when I need one?
He gently pulled her sweater sleeve up and brushed his leathery fingertips over the slightly inflamed area over her elbow joint. “Doesn’t look too bad but you may want to ice it, Elmer.”
She took in a breath, not realizing she’d been holding it while he’d stroked her skin, and muttered, “My name is not Elmer.”
“I figured that much. Now if you’d just make me a happy man and tell me what your name really is, I’d be—”
The lady from the coffee shop came running across the parking lot. “Are you okay, ma’am? Do I need to call an ambulance?” She held a white paper bag and large disposable cup in her hands. “Here you go, to replace the items that got dropped.”
Gwen had been in such shock that she’d forgotten she’d even had them in her hands. They now lay on the ground, flattened, after he’d run over them when he’d moved the truck.
He said, “I’m sorry, Cassie. I’ll clean that mess up once I’m sure she’s okay. She was pretty shook up.”
Oh, shook up my ass. I’ve handled much worse than this just walking into the family horse barn.
The lady, Cassie, waved her hand dismissively as she placed the cup in Gwen’s hand. “Don’t worry about that, Chris. I’m just glad you’re okay, ma’am. I made you another coffee just like the other, and there’s another taco in the bag for you. Want to come inside and get warm?”
Gwen shook her head, not even really aware of the cold as she sat there on the icy, muddy
fender. She just needed to get in her truck and be alone for a few minutes to take stock of what to do next.
Looking back at a vehicle that had just pulled up to the drive-thru window, Cassie turned back to them and patted Gwen’s shoulder. “I need to get back inside. If you change your mind, you’re welcome to come back inside and get warm.” Gwen nodded as Cassie hurried back to the door, wrapping her arms around herself against the cold and damp.
“Are you from Divine? You want me to call someone for you?” the cowboy asked, taking her free hand. “I’m really sorry about hurting and scaring you.”
She wanted to ignore his conciliatory tone that she wished didn’t make her heart tremble and do funny things in her chest. The way he stared made her feel vulnerable, exposed in a way that she couldn’t afford right now. She needed to get alone again. Soon. He kept her off-balance, alternating between teasing her and being apologetic.
She made to pull back from him, but he looked down at her hand, took the cup from the other one, and peered closely at both of them with a concerned frown. “These need bandages. They’re bleeding.”
Looking down, she realized he was right. Clenching them so hard had made the dry, fragile, and damaged skin between her knuckles crack and bleed. “I’m fine. I’ve just used them in the cold lately more than I’m used to.”
He scoffed. “Haven’t you ever heard of work gloves?”
She wanted to bare her teeth and yell at him that she wasn’t an idiot but her emotions were welling dangerously close to the surface and she wasn’t about to lose it in front of this jerk.
“I had a pair of gloves but I lost them.”
His fingers stroking over the tops of her hands soothed her to the point where her heart no longer galloped with outrage. No, that sentiment was replaced with something deeper and more primitive. She needed to get away. She couldn’t afford to feel anything right now.
“Somewhere between my truck and my bunk, I’ve managed to misplace my phone. Would it be possible for you to call a friend for me?”
Tangled in Divine [Divine Creek Ranch 14] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) Page 4
