Page 12 of Wrangled and Tangled (Raven Peak Ranch #1)

P ounding on the screen door with very little patience, I finally hear one of the kitchen chairs scrape the linoleum and hear Mawmaw’s drawl before I see her. “Hold your damn horses, boy! I’m old.”

If I weren’t about to puke my coffee up, I’d laugh.

My gut feels sour now that I know Heath’s engaged.

Maxine Tritt is one of the oldest women in town, but you wouldn’t know it looking at her.

Sure, she’s got smile lines by her seafoam eyes and thin lips from being one of the happiest people I know, but that’s the only hint you’d get.

Her gray hair’s still in pink foam rollers covered by a net that tames flyaways.

“It’s Saturday. Your baby is still asleep, and Lucy’s already out in the barn,” Mawmaw grumbles. “And that runt boyfriend of hers upstairs is still asleep. I thought he was a workin’ man?”

She tisks and shakes her head, sloshing her coffee over the rim of her mug.

“Thanks, Mawmaw,” kissing her cheek, I turn and head to the barn so I can talk to Lucy. The horses are out, still covered in blankets and fly masks. Their tails whip and swish in the early morning dew-covered grass.

Lucy’s form comes into view once I’ve stepped into the barn. Her jeans are snug on her thighs as she lifts a bale of hay from the loft and throws it down.

“Mornin’,” she huffs, swiping her blonde bangs away from her forehead. “So, how’d your night go, homewrecker?”

“Got a minute?” I grumble, nodding my head to the bale of hay turned on its side.

“Of course, for your illicit affair?” She waggles her brows before climbing down the ladder.

With a skip in her step, she plants her ass on the hay right next to me. Once she catches a glimpse of my face though, hers falls and she grabs my hand.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t judge. What’s goin’ on?” Her voice is soft, and it’s that small thing that makes me feel foolish.

“He was still in my bed when you called,” I blurt, shaking my head and leaning down. Elbows on my knees, I rub my face. “We slept together twice last night.”

Her gasp would be funny if it weren’t laced with loathing. “You dirty dog! Seriously, it’s about damn time you got laid, even if it did end in disappointment.”

Burying my face in my hands, peeking at her through my fingers, I laugh.

“Wait,” she stands, popping a hip out and crossing her arms, “You called me last night askin’ if I was alright.”

I nod, letting her put the puzzle together in her mind.

“What did Heath tell you?” Her eyes are flinty, and I know no matter how I spin it, she’s going to be pissed.

“Everythin’,” releasing a heavy breath, I stand too. Putting my hand on her shoulder. “I think we need to have a conversation about that too, Lucy Loo.”

She backs away, hands held out in front of her. “We don’t, Levi and I have talked about it at length, and I trust him enough to know that he would never cheat on me, much less drug some other woman to do it.”

“C’mon Lucy, two eyewitnesses? What did Levi say happened then?

How did a roofied woman end up in his hotel room, half-naked in his bed?

You can’t be that blind.” I don’t know how to be any gentler, especially since I’m a little hurt that she didn’t talk to me about it.

We share everything, and I know for a fact that if she would have told me, they wouldn’t be together now.

Maybe that’s exactly the reason she didn’t.

“You spend one night with the playboy of Rodeo–who by the way, was happy to spend the night warming your bed while he’s engaged –and suddenly his word is gospel? Newsflash. He. Lied. To. You.” She spits, eyeing me up and down. As if she’s looking at me differently.

“He didn’t lie to me, I didn’t ask–I assumed–and that’s on me. I should have known better, especially given his reputation, but Lucy, I don’t think he’d lie about somethin’ like that. You shoulda seen him. He was visibly irate when he was tellin’ me what he saw in Levi’s hotel room that night.”

“Stop, Spencer. Whatever you think you know, you don’t. I’m not havin’ this conversation with you anymore.”

Turning on her booted heel, she rushes from the barn. I won’t go after her, she’s upset, and there isn’t a damn thing I could say to make her feel better. Especially since I’m damn sure Levi isn’t the angel she thinks he is, and I don’t know how to make her believe it.

Heath may have omitted the little fact that he’s engaged, but I sure as hell believe what he said about Levi.

Goldspur Gears is my family's garage. It’s on the edge of our little town, perfectly positioned for people on the highway who need repairs, a place to rest, or just to stop in and visit.

Briar called not long after my interaction with Lucy to tell me she and Mawmaw were going out.

Apparently, there’s a sale on clothes at her favorite store, and Mawmaw agreed to take her to get some new summer stuff.

Since I couldn’t get my mind to stop spinning over Heath, I figured going into work is the best thing to do. Colt was happy to see me since the car he’s been working on for the better part of three days is whooping his ass.

“I just can’t get this part to work the way it’s supposed to, Boss,” he says, swiping grease over his brow. It’s gonna be a hot one today, and he’s already sweating up a storm.

“I’ll take a look at it,” I promise, grabbing the rolling creeper seat, laying on my back, and rolling under the car. “Alright, you pull, and I’ll push. Let’s get it outta there and make sure it’s the right thing.”

“You got it, Boss Man,” he says, wrenching his fingers into the groves of the power steering pump.

“One. Two.” It pops free in his hands, steering fluid pours from the pump, and I dodge the fall of liquid that rains from the new part. “Damn it, Colt!”

“Sorry, Boss, forgot I filled it already.” He offers me a rag and a sheepish smile once I’ve rolled the creeper out from under the car, and I dab at the mess that’s staining my coveralls.

“It’s alright,” I assure him. He’s a goof, but he shows up every day, hasn’t ever stolen a dime, and he’s great with the customers. Explaining things to them with a smile and listening patiently when they complain. He’s a heck of a young man, plus his mama makes us cookies every now and again.

“Let me see the pump.” The two of us walk over to the workbench, where he set it before coming to my rescue with a rag. It’s covered in liquid, making it harder to hold on to. With a quick wipe-down, it's clear that he pulled the wrong pump from the stockroom.

“It’s the wrong pump for this car. Did you pull the filter for the truck in bay two at the same time?”

He thinks for a minute. Clear as day you can see it on his face the second he realizes his mistake. “I pulled both for the truck…”

With a laugh, I clap his shoulder and head to the stockroom to pull the correct pump and return to find him still staring at the part as if it personally offended him.

“It’s alright, Colt. Maybe only pull for one bay at a time next time, okay?” I’m not mad. We can still use the other pump if the need arises–plus, it’s a learning experience. He’s still in school, just a few years older than my Briar. I don’t expect miracles out of him.

The phone rings, and Colt looks over at the office. I guess he expected to find Brett there answering the phone. He’s my head mechanic. If he can’t fix it, no one can. His wife just had a baby the weekend the Rodeo pulled into town, so I let him have the next month off.

“Go on,” I nod, wiping my fingers off with the rag Colt gave me.

He does, slipping into the office and taking down a note. By the time he comes back out of the office, I’ve got the pump positioned where I want it and have started bolting it down. The chime above the lobby door goes off, and Colt’s head whips in that direction.

“Uh, Boss?” His tone changes, and I wonder who the hell left the lobby door unlocked.

“Did you unlock the lobby this mornin’?”

He shakes his head and looks at me, eyes wide and body-taught.

“Why are you–”

“Hi, I’m lookin’ for Spencer?”

That voice.

Why the fuck is Heath here?

“Tell him I’m not here,” whispering to Colt.

Colt just stands there in shock or awe, neither one is great for me at the moment. I know he can’t see me. The hood of the car does a pretty good job of hiding my frame, but if Colt doesn’t say anything, I have a feeling Heath will walk over, and if he does, well then I won’t be hidden for long.

I knock over a wrench to try and break him out of this stupor.

He shakes his head, blinks a few times and squeaks when he tries to talk.

Heath laughs, and fuck him for sounding so charming when he asks, “Are you alright?”

“I’m–I, fine. I’m fine, you’re Heath Macabe,” he stutters, and I hang my head.

“I am. Nice to meet you,” he steps closer, and I can hear the knock of his boot on the garage floor. “And you are?”

Colt slaps his hand over his chest, fingers splayed wide. “I’m Zachariah, but everyone ‘round here calls me Colt.”

Heath chuckles, and the deep tone of it has my hair rising on my arms.

I like it, and I wish I didn’t.