Page 142 of Mountain Daddy (Mountain Men #2)

Kendra

Rain pounds off my windshield, and I slow to a crawl as I search for the turn into Dad’s neighborhood.

It’s Friday. I’m going over to Luther’s tonight. And I can’t wait.

He’s snuck into my room every night this week, just to sleep beside me.

Then he makes me coffee, kisses me on the forehead, and leaves me to work.

It’s been nice. Healing.

But I’m really looking forward to tonight.

It will be good to just be together. Plus, Luther needs to get more rest. Sneaking into my room well past his bedtime can’t be good for him, even if he does sleep in when he’s at my side.

I turn my windshield wipers up another notch as I turn off the highway.

This seemed like a great idea earlier, to go buy more of the coffee Luther likes. But I hadn’t realized a rainstorm was coming.

The sky continues to pour, and I lean closer to the windshield. The visibility is shit.

This weather better let up; otherwise Dad will freak out about me driving to Denver and try to convince me to reschedule my dinner with friends .

Spotting the driveway, I double-check for oncoming headlights, then turn onto Dad’s property.

Not wanting to get my clothes wet, I use the remote Dad gave me and open the garage door.

Finally parked, I turn off the engine, leave one of the bags of coffee on the passenger seat, and grab the other to bring inside.

With the overhead door still open, I stand at the edge of the garage and watch the rain come down.

It’s loud, the water pelting off every surface in sight. But it’s refreshing.

The temperature has dropped. The air is cool. And the smell of it…

I close my eyes and take a long inhale through my nose.

There’s something so invigorating about a downpour in the woods.

A horn blares.

My eyes open.

Tires screech.

I take a step forward.

And a creature lets out a scratchy shout.

My heart stutters.

The shout gets cut off.

And I start to run.

“Buddy!”

The coffee falls from my hands.

I run faster.

It can’t be.

Raindrops crash against my face, mixing with my tears and blurring my vision.

“Buddy!” I try to yell, but my voice cracks.

My tennis shoes slap against the wet gravel as my clothes are soaked through.

It can’t be.

I round the turn in the driveway.

I can’t breathe.

I keep running, but I can’t breathe.

He’s there.

Lying in the road.

“No.” I gasp for breath. “Buddy, no.”

I stumble to a stop beside him.

Red fur is matted from the rain.

He looks so small.

“Buddy,” I sob.

I drop to my knees.

There’s blood on his temple.

And his leg…

It’s the leg that had the ribbon wrapped around it when we first met…

It’s broken.

I can see that it’s broken.

I swallow against the bile rising in my throat.

I reach for him, pausing my trembling hands inches from his fragile body.

I don’t want to hurt him more.

And I don’t…

I don’t know if he’s…

He can’t be gone.

I glance up at the road. Checking for traffic. Checking for help. But all I can see is Buddy.

“Please…”

I rest my hand on his side.

I try to stop shaking.

I hold my breath.

He can’t be.

And I feel his rib cage move.

Alive.

A sound I don’t recognize leaves my chest.

He’s alive.

As carefully as I can, I scoop him up.

“Just hold on, okay?”

I cradle him to my chest, and I run.