Page 26 of Wrecked for Love (Buffaloberry Hill #1)

ELIA

The next morning, just before dawn, I woke up to a thudding noise. Claire wasn’t beside me anymore. She was on the floor, on the other side of the bed.

I rushed to her. “Claire! Claire!” I gathered her trembling body into my arms, cradling her as carefully as I could. A part of me braced for her to push me away, just like she had after that nightmare at The Lazy Moose.

But this time, she didn’t. Instead, she curled into my embrace, even though she was still caught in the grip of her nightmare.

“Wake up, baby. Wake up,” I whispered, tapping her cheek.

Her eyes fluttered open. “Code…please…” she panted, her voice shaky and disoriented.

I knew then that her nightmare was about Cody—her brother.

She sat up slowly, but after a moment, her eyes found mine, and she leaned back into me, seeking comfort.

“I’m so sorry,” she exhaled, her breath uneven.

“Hey, don’t apologize,” I soothed. “Do you have these nightmares every night?”

“No, not usually. But I guess that’s two for two with you,” she said, a small, apologetic smile forming.

“It’s okay,” I reassured her, trying to ease her guilt. “Maybe I’m the common denominator.”

“No, absolutely not. Maybe my body just gets a little needier when I’m around you.”

Closeness invites loss. But holding her, I realized how much I’d been missing. The risk, the pain, the vulnerability…it was all worth it for a chance at something this real.

After some time spent holding her, I reluctantly shifted. The pull to stay with her was strong, but the thought of the sabotage at Diesel’s pen still weighed heavily on my mind.

“You’re going?” she asked, her voice soft.

“Yeah,” I said as I helped her climb back into bed. “You working today?”

“Yeah. Starting at midday. I’ll be finishing late though—helping Paul with the stock take. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

I nodded, though deep down, I felt a twinge of disappointment. As much as I wanted to spend another night wrapped up in her, I understood. She had her life, and I had the farm to run.

“Okay, sweetheart,” I said, leaning down to kiss her.

“Sweetheart, huh?” A glint shone in her eyes.

I smirked. “You’ve lost your spicy edge.”

She let out a soft coo, stretching luxuriously under the covers, her body tempting me to crawl back in. Honestly, she could never lose her spicy edge. She’d always be my Chili Pepper forever.

As I stood up to leave, I glanced back at her one last time—at her tousled hair against the pillow, her sleepy grin. It was hard to walk away, but I knew she’d be waiting for me when the time was right.

I climbed into my truck, and the engine rumbled to life as I drove back to The Lazy Moose. The sun was just beginning to rise. By the time I pulled up to the barn, Hank and the boys were already there, shooting the breeze.

As soon as I stepped out of the truck, I could feel the teasing coming from a mile away.

“Well, look who finally decided to show up,” Hank called out, grinning wide. “Didn’t think you’d make it back this early.”

The guys hooted, clearly ready to give me hell.

“How’d it go, El? Did you woo her with your ‘bull-wranglin’ charm?’” Tucker asked, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Oh yeah,” Hank added with a smirk, “heard nothing says romance like spooning while keeping one eye on a loose bull.”

They burst out laughing, and I just shook my head, playing along. “You boys think you’re real funny, huh?”

“Well, after last night’s rodeo with Diesel, we just figured you might’ve decided to go wrangle a different ‘wild beast,’ if you know what I mean,” Hank shot back, and they all howled with laughter.

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t help grinning. “Y’all can rag on me all you want, but if you were in my boots, you’d still be there.”

“Spoken like a man in deep,” Tucker said, shaking his head.

The ribbing went on for a good while, and by the end of it, they’d teased me about everything from my truck’s suspension needing extra work to whether I’d need a new pair of boots for all the “romantic getaways.”

Later that morning, the livestock officer came by to inspect the pen, but I could tell he wasn’t taking it too seriously. He poked around, examined the gate, and even gave Diesel a good long look.

“I don’t see any real signs of tampering,” he finally said.

“Look at that scar! It’s from a whip,” I insisted. “Someone hurt him, and it sure as hell wasn’t us.”

“Honestly, it looks like your bull just got riled up and damaged the gate himself. Probably hurt himself in the process.”

I clenched my jaw but let it go. “Right. I’ll make sure we install a sturdier lock.”

“Good idea,” he said, clearly ready to be done with it. “If he’s that strong, you’ll need something reinforced.”

I nodded, watching him drive off, his reluctance to investigate leaving a bad taste in my mouth. I didn’t like the feeling that something had been missed. But for now, I’d have to let it slide.

“Hank,” I called over, “get the boys to reinforce the gate. We’re gonna need a lock Diesel can’t tear down in a fit.”

Hank gave a nod, but I could see the same concern in his eyes. “On it, boss.”

One of the men stayed behind to handle the gate while I let Hank and the boys lead the herd, the dogs sprinting ahead to keep everything in line.

I turned back with my best boy, Koda, needing a quieter day.

We headed back to the spot where Claire and I had dinner, and as I cleaned up, my eyes landed on the wine glass.

Her lipstick mark was still there, faint but unmistakable.

It had been a long time since I felt this good—like I finally had something solid in my life. And it was all because of her. I didn’t even want to ground myself with the thought that she might just be passing through.

Then, as if the universe was listening in, my phone buzzed in my pocket. Claire. My heart gave a little leap. A surprise call from a girlfriend? That was something new.

Girlfriend …was that what she was to me now? Whether it was or not, the thought felt damn good.

“Hey, bull wrangler, how’s it going?” she opened.

“The usual,” I replied. “Koda’s been asking about you.”

“Oh…bless him!” she cooed.

“So, you on your way to Paul’s?”

“Yeah,” she said. I could hear the faint hum of her car engine. “Just pulling up now. Catch ya later, okay?”

“Okay, spicy sweetheart ,” I said, emphasizing the new nickname just to hear her giggle. “Later,” I added, though tomorrow already felt far too long to wait.

As I hung up, I glanced over at Koda lounging in the grass, his eyes half-closed in the sun, looking as relaxed as ever.

We headed back to the house together. Inside, I had lunch from the leftovers of last night’s Mexican barbecue—marinated beef, grilled peppers, tortillas, and that spicy salsa I made just for her.

Koda sat at my feet, looking up at me with those big, soulful eyes, hoping for a bite.

“Not today, pal,” I said, ruffling his ears. With his age creeping up on him, I’d been feeding him special food—a blend with high protein, glucosamine for his joints, and a mix of easy-to-digest grains. It wasn’t exactly gourmet, but it kept him healthy.

The evening’s end brought a nagging thought. No matter how I tried to brush it aside, it stayed put. Before I knew it, my feet had taken me to Tessa’s room. Koda padded beside me.

I stood at the door, staring at the wood as if it were a wall I couldn’t get past. But this time, something was different. I reached out, gripped the handle, and opened the door fully. It creaked, revealing the room that had been sealed for years.

It was as if something unseen had been pulling me in. I’d had the courage to walk into The Willow, and now this felt almost too easy—like I was hypnotized. I crossed the threshold I’d avoided for so long.

Shelves upon shelves of romance books lined the walls, each one a reflection of the stories she had loved.

Her bed was still neatly made, as if waiting for her to return, and her closet was full of clothes.

On her nightstand sat the familiar photo of us—Mom, Dad, me, her, and Noah.

A wave of emotions piled in, threatening to overflow.

Koda whined.

“Yeah.” I tickled the underside of his snout. “She’s the one who brought you here. You were just a pink-nosed puppy back then, the runt of the litter. But she trained you well.” I stroked his fur, running my hand from the top of his head to the base of his tail.

I looked around the room, feeling the tug of time that had been frozen here for far too long.

Maybe I could donate her books to the library—if they even had space for them.

And her clothes…the good ones could go to a secondhand store or maybe to someone who needed them more.

It was time, wasn’t it? Time to let it all go.

But then, all at once, the emotions I had been holding back surged forward.

I leaned back against the wall and slid down until I was sitting on the floor with my knees pulled to my chest. I tried to hold it together, but the grief, buried for so long, spilled out uncontrollably.

Hot tears streamed down my face as I cried, not because I wasn’t ready to let her go or to let her things go but because the pain of losing her had never really left.

I had pushed it down, buried it deep, and now, it came crashing back.

I always thought she would’ve laughed at me now—Tessa had taught me that crying wasn’t for boys.

I understood why she said it. She’d never cried herself.

I guess we didn’t have time for tears back then.

Not after Mom passed—yeah, that was the last time we cried as a family.

But now, sitting here, surrounded by everything Tessa had left behind, I felt, for the first time, that maybe she would’ve let me.

She would’ve understood. And that thought, more than anything, broke me.

“I’m sorry, Tess.”

A few breathy sobs escaped me, the emptiness in my lungs quickly giving way to a sharp, aching pain.

Then, breaking through the stillness, Hank’s voice came from outside. “El!”

I scrubbed my face with my sleeve, my heart shifting from grief to focus. I bolted out the door. “What’s going on, man?”

“That damn prick’s back, messing with the east ridge fence.”

I saddled up and drove my horse toward the ridge, pushing hard. When I got there, the fence was down, with hoofprints leading straight into the forest. I urged my horse into a canter, hoping to catch the lowlife before he got too far. But no luck.

Hank showed up a minute later. “He’s long gone, man. Probably did this a couple of hours ago.”

We circled back to the fence, where a couple of the guys were already on it, hammering new posts into place and tightening the wire.

“Maybe we should set up a camera, catch him in the act,” Hank suggested. “Get the sheriff involved.”

“We don’t need a damn camera,” I growled. “I know exactly who it was.”

I dismounted and let Hank take the reins. Without a second thought, I bolted for my truck and peeled out north—an area I rarely ventured. I drove straight to the Voss residence. The place looked different—recently renovated and probably bigger too. They’d been busy.

I parked right in front of the gate, haphazardly, not bothering with the intercom. Nobody in Buffaloberry Hill used one of those, anyway. I scaled the gate in a flash and sprinted to the front door.

Armand Voss, the younger of the two Voss brothers, stood there, grinning like he’d been waiting for this moment.

Before he could say a word, I grabbed him by the collar, shoving him back. Almost instantly, three men surrounded me, weapons drawn. I recognized them—still part of the Voss clan. Either uncles or cousins. They always seemed to multiply.

“Little Vossy,” I growled in his ear, my grip tightening. “Still the scared little boy whenever I show up.”

Armand lazily waved his guards back, his smirk never faltering. “What can I do for you, Lucas?”

“You stay the hell away from my property,” I snarled, jerking him forward. “You hear me?”

He laughed, not even fazed. “Stay away? You think I care about your precious land? Do I look like a cowboy? Why the hell would I want to be near your dusty, lazy ranch?”

“You mess with my fence again, and I’ll take one of your fingers as a souvenir,” I warned, practically lifting him off the ground as I stared into his grimy eyes. This was about more than a fence. He’d destroyed more than just wooden posts and lengths of wire.

Armand let out a high-pitched giggle. “A finger? Lucky for you, Lucien’s not here.”

“You always hide, Vossy, tucked behind your guards or clinging to big brother’s coattails. How original.”

Whether he caught the hint about what he’d done to my sister, I couldn’t tell. He was dense like that. I had no hard proof, but I was certain Lucien had swooped in to clean up his brother’s mess, erasing every trace and staging the scene to look like an accident.

He stumbled but caught himself, straightening with that same smug grin. “You’re real brave, Lucas. Real brave when you think you’re untouchable.”

I held his gaze for a second longer, then turned and walked away.

Armand’s voice oozed with smugness. “I don’t get why you keep holding on to that dream, Lucas. Ranching? It’s for the poor. The Vosses…we’re smart. We think bigger. You’re wasting your life playing cowboy.”

I didn’t look back. His words slid off me like dust in the wind.

He would never understand, never could. The Lucases were cut from tougher cloth, built for resilience, while the Vosses let their land wither under their care.

Now, that soil was being worked by real people—people who cared, people who thrived.

Armand’s taunts were hollow. He didn’t get it, and that was his weakness, not mine.

“And oh, that chick—gorgeous gams, smoking everywhere else? What was her name? Claire?” Armand drawled. “You’re not the only game in town, El. Plenty of bucks around here.”

That did it. I marched back, fists clenched, ready to knock that smug look off his face. His guards grabbed me before I could get close enough, but after a few shoves and scuffles, I broke free.

I leaned in, my voice deadly. “You so much as breathe near her, and I’ll show you just how fast bucks can kick!”

Then I turned and walked away—hoofbeats already counting down his chances.