Page 110 of Rocky Mountain Devil

Then he was gone, and she was struggling to get into her clothes. She seemed all thumbs, her clothes tangled in knots, and the entire time her mind raced, picturing terrible things.

If something had happened to Rafe—

Laurel shoved the thought away violently, jerking her jeans over her hips and doing them up as she glanced at the alarm clock beside the bed.

No wonder she was groggy. It was only five forty-five in the morning.

She pulled on her sweater as she rushed into the living room, desperate for answers. “Jesse, what’s going on? Is Rafe okay?”

Jesse had calmed down, which was good because she was frantic enough for both of them. “He’s fine. I mean, I don’t know for sure because I thought he was here, and he’s not.”

Her heart was pounding hard enough the blood rushing past her ears made it hard to hear. “Then what?”

He shook his head. “Uncle Ben—he’s dead.”

Laurel gripped the back of the couch as the room started spinning. “D-d-dead? But how?”

And where was Rafe?

Jesse guided her around the couch and made her sit. “I’m sorry for busting in on you like that, but I honestly thought I’d find Rafe. Aunt Dana went out this morning to start chores and found Ben. She called my mom, who calledmebecause Rafe didn’t answer his phone.”

Poor Dana Coleman.

Only the smallest amount of guilt struck that her first thought wasn’t that she was sorry to hear Ben was dead, but that Mrs. Coleman had been the one to find him. “But why isn’t Rafe here?”

“I don’t know.”

Laurel dug in her pocket for her phone, checking if there were any messages. Nothing. She sent a followup to the one he hadn’t answered.

Fear rose in her gut—

She wasn’t worried that Rafe had done anything terrible, but that he’dexperiencedsomething terrible. That he was hurting.

She glanced at Jesse. Afraid to ask, yet even more afraid not to. “Do you know how Ben…?”

Her whispered words faded into nothing.

His face folded into a terrible frown. “Not yet.”

Laurel shot to her feet. Didn’t matter that it wasn’t even six a.m.—she needed to do something, not least of which was find Rafe. “Where could he be? I can go look—”

“Laurel, think,” Jesse interrupted. He reached out and caught her upper arms. “What’re you going to do? Drive your teeny car in circles on winter roads in the dark? Rafe could be anywhere, and we don’t even know what’s going on. Hell, for all we know, he got stuck over at his brother’s for the night, and they’re having breakfast at Gabe’s. Don’t go off half-assed.”

“I need to find him,” Laurel insisted, fear closing off her throat and breaking up the words.

“For now you need to go home. Go to work like normal. Maybe Rafe will call you. If he does, make sure he knows to get his ass home.”

It might be logical, but it made her crazy to think of simply going about her day as if nothing had happened. “If you hear anything, will you call me?”

He passed her his phone. “Punch in your number.”

She did so with shaking fingers, the first rush of adrenaline wearing off. When she passed his phone back, he shoved it in his pocket then caught her close, squeezing her tightly in support.

He was big and strong. A wall of Coleman, but as sturdy as he was, it wasRafe’scomforting touch she craved. Rafe’s arms she wanted around her so she could offer him support in return.

That instant confirmed what she’d thought the previous night—her world had changed. What she felt for Rafe was no longer based on childish games, or even long-time childhood caring. The depth of emotion was so much richer because it was sorrow as well as laughter. She wanted to be with him in the good times, and in the bad. She wanted to share it all.

Now she had to find him and make sure he knew.