Page 20

Chapter 20

April

I must have won the battle some time during the night, because when I wake up, our legs are tangled so tightly, I don’t think I can move.

Not that I want to.

Who knew that in only a few days I’d get to the point of wanting to tell the world to go away and just hide in a cabin with a man I just met?

My dad would be so pissed.

Kinda makes me want to do it even more.

But that’s the wrong reason. I need to be a damn big girl and take care of my shit.

I’ll just hate doing it the whole time.

Maybe I can come back? School is out for the holiday break anyways.

“Y’all right? You’re grumbling.” He doesn’t open his eyes, his words emanating from deep in his chest.

“I don’t want to be an adult,” I whine.

He cracks one gray iris and looks down, raising his brow. “You’re already too young for this. Don’t make it weirder than it is.” The corner of his mouth turns up in a wry smile before he settles down against me, pulling me under his scruffy neck.

I hadn’t thought of that being why he’s been resistant. “Is that why you’re keeping me at arm’s length?”

His chuckle is a low rumble. “Hardly. It’s because there’s a million other men out there better than me.”

One of his rough hands slide up my body before his knuckle lifts my chin, snapping my jaw shut. “You look at me all open-mouthed like that, I might put something in it.” With a wink, he untangles himself and rolls off the side of the bed.

Roscoe jumps up and circles near the door.

“I think that is the lamest excuse ever.” Tugging the blanket back over me, I blatantly admire him stretching in the morning sun.

I like how his jeans hang low when he isn’t wearing a belt. What could have happened last night if he took them off? Feeling how hard he was against my hip was such a turn on.

Damn. It is nice outside. Calm too when he lets the dog out.

Fucking sucks.

I want the storm.

“It ain’t an excuse, it’s the truth.” He waves his hand idly around the room. “This isn’t the life you think it is.”

“Is it so bad? I mean, right now, with me?” I sit up and let my lower lip poke out.

“Things aren’t normal in ranch life.” He frowns, running his fingers through his wild dark hair until it falls over his ears. “There’s pulling a dead calf at three in the morning, or being stuck on range for two days because a cow broke its leg and you have to babysit it until the butcher’s truck can make it out.” He takes a long breath, squatting in front of the stove to toss in a log. “I don’t want you thinking it’s all cute and romantic, ‘cause it ain’t.”

“You think ‘normal’—” I throw up air quotations to emphasize my point. “—is PTA meetings and sitting at a desk? Neighborhood barbeques and golf on the weekends? I grew up in that, Ford. It’s fake as shit. My mom was a drunk and my dad was screwing half the cul-de-sac. No one was happy.” I guess I’m making progress since he goes quiet.

He stands, staring at the flames, and runs his palm over his face. When he turns, his lips are thin and his eyes are narrow.

But they soften when he reaches out and cups my cheeks. “You’re a stubborn cuss, ya know?”

He leans over and presses his lips lightly to mine. “No, it ain’t bad at all being here with you. I wish I could go back with you and be there when you gotta deal with all the bullshit.” His cheek rises in a little smirk. “I mean, since we’re friends and all.”

I’ve never had a “friend” give me an orgasm like that before.

My fingers are just starting to thread into his belt loops when he pulls away, clearing his throat.

“Let me get some coffee and food in you before you have to go.” He pulls our cups out and pours each to the rim.

Well, I guess they’re more like his and I borrowed one.

Ouch.

“Will I have time to see Pepper one more time?” I just need to focus on the steaming mug so he doesn’t see that I’m fighting tears.

It shouldn’t hurt this bad.

I barely know him.

But I’ve never felt this safe, or cared for.

“Yea, I’m sure she’d like that. She’s gonna hate me again when you don’t come back.” He pauses, and clenches his jaw.

God, this elephant in the room is crushing me. I want to scream and beg him to tell me he’ll see me again.

But I won’t.

One day at a time. Maybe he’s right, and I’m just the rescued damsel in distress, smitten by my hero.

It doesn’t feel like that though.

“Come on, frosty. One last tread to the barn.” He holds out a heavy coat, then slides his on. “It’s warm out today with the sun out. Should make for a pretty helicopter ride.” He gives me a lopsided smile that doesn’t reach his eyes.

With two empty water jugs in one hand, he opens the door to the sparkling snow.

It’s almost too bright. Or my eyes might be extra sensitive this morning.

Holding my arm up to block the glare, I follow in his footsteps.

It keeps my shoes from getting filled before we get to the shelter.

Pepper nods her head and curls up her lip when she sees me.

“Hey, pretty girl.” I’ve learned she likes it when I scratch under her jaw and along the front of her neck.

She plants her forehead against my chest and lets me make furrows in her fur.

The ringing of a phone makes her jerk up, her ears swiveling towards Ford.

He curses under his breath and digs it out. “Yep.”

Garbled noises come out of the tiny speaker, but I can’t make them out.

“Okay. See you in a bit.” He clicks the off button then looks up at me with a pained expression.

“How long?” I choke out. It feels like there’s a rock in my throat.

His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows hard. “About twenty minutes. They’re taking off.”

I glance down at the heavy coat and the thermal pants, with my stained and blood smeared sneakers beneath.

“Well, it’s not like I have to pack.” Everything I own is on my body.

My plan is to eat crow and go back to Dad’s, see if I can stay there at least long enough to get my stuff back.

“Fuck,” he grunts, then drops the water jugs.

He grabs my hand and drags me out of the barn.

“Did I do something wrong?” I have to double step to keep up with his determined pace.

He doesn’t reply, but flings the door open and points at the stool. “Sit.”

Digging through a drawer, he pulls out a notebook that lands on the counter with a slap, then furiously starts writing.

“Ford?” I wish he would tell me what he’s doing.

But he ignores me until he finishes, then tears the page out and folds it up.

Still without a word, he takes my palm and flattens it, then curls my fingers around the paper. “Don’t lose this.” His tone is so serious, it’s intimidating.

“Am I allowed to look at it?” I stare up at him.

The crinkles in the corners of his eyes deepen as he squints at me. “Not until you’re in the helicopter.”

A thrumming sound resonates through the cabin, then takes on the rhythmic beat of a chopper.

Damn it. I don’t want to go.

Ford takes hold of my arms, making me look at him. “Remember, Mason and his family are safe. You can trust them.”

He pulls me to my feet and wraps me in a tight hug, squeezing so hard I can’t even breathe.

Does this mean he’s going to miss me too?

It’s all moving so quickly, it’s a whirlwind.

The cold gust is a shock when he tugs me outside.

Maybe I just don’t get on?

Sit my butt down in the snow and refuse to leave?

It’s a violent wave of gritty flakes that drive into my cheeks as we battle the vortex of the helicopter blades.

A man with a red jumpsuit with a helmet and goggles jumps nimbly from the side, sinking to his knees in the whirling powder.

“Ford!” My voice is nearly lost in the chopping motor, but I latch onto the front of his coat and don’t let go. “Tell me you’ll answer the phone.”

He looks down and I can see the muscle of his jaw work. “I made a promise I would.”

His eyes fix on my mouth, then his lower lip goes between his teeth.

“April Nelson? It’s time to go.” The man yells loud enough to be heard over the roar of the engine.

“Ford? Will I see you again?” I nearly scream, clawing to keep contact even as the man in the jumpsuit is tugging on my elbow.

Ford takes so fucking long to answer, tears sting down my cheek.

“I hope so.” His hands cup my jaw and he wipes a wet streak under my eye.

Then he kisses me on the forehead and lets go.

All the strength fades from my grip to let the stranger pull me away.