Tracks To Love: An Enemies To Lovers Alpha Hero Romance

by Abbie St. Claire

  20

  Tate

  “Tate, I’m still up at the house. Can you come up before I leave?” Mom was anxious on the other end of the call.

  Trying to hold the phone, a fence pipe, and a work light all at the same time was a multi-tasking pain in the ass. I dropped the pipe before I hurt myself. “Mom, I gotta mess down here, and Bill left early, a kid thing at school.”

  “Is Willow helping you?”

  “Willow? No, she was supposed to be with you—what’s happened?” Panic set in. I always had a sixth sense when something wasn’t as it was supposed to be. “I’m on my way.”

  Mom’s voice cracked. “No need to come here, Son. She left on the four-wheeler headed your way hours ago, but I can’t call her because she left her phone here on the bar. I figured you two made up and were losing time talking or something.”

  “Oh God. Okay, stay there. Call Dad and Franklin to come help search for her. If I’m not back in an hour, call Sheriff Monroe and tell him to bring dogs.”

  Firing up the four-wheeler, I picked up the work light and was grateful it had a battery back- up left. I yelled out into the darkness for her, but got no answer.

  Slowly, I drove to the main trail and adjusted the light to scan the heavily wooded area off to my right.

  “Willow, honey, please answer!” I yelled out.

  Please, God, let her be okay. This is my fault for being such an ass to her.

  I was in love with a feisty, soulful angel, who tempted fate at every turn, heaven forbid.

  She wouldn’t have come after me if I hadn’t been such a jerk to her for the last four (?) days. Willow didn’t have a halo, but to me she was my light. My everything. The kindness that she held so close to her heart for everyone—that’s what beamed from her. That’s what I fell in love with.

  I’d go to hell and back for her, but that’s not what I’ve been showing her. I showed her I’d leave at the first moment an issue popped up.

  The path was getting darker by the minute, and the temperature had dropped considerably—making me worry even more. Her safety was my only concern.

  The land, our land, was rugged and hadn’t been cleared as much as I’d have liked. Initially, when I’d bought the property, it was just a place to call mine and a tax deduction, but it needed work before cows and horses could be kept on it, much less more than one person trying to live in the house. And what was left of the chicken coop would’ve made a great bonfire.

  When I put it on the market, I stopped working the land and had given up the idea of having a full working ranch. No need, since I never saw myself having a family after Whitney.

  Now, I finally had a baby on the way and a lovely wife to call my own, and because I was a stupid, fuckin’ selfish, fuckin’ idiot, everything was at risk.

  Grrrrrr. Why now?

  Slowly, the four-wheeler crawled along. My voice grew rough calling out to the cold wind, getting no answer.

  “Mom, call the sheriff,” I instructed her over the phone. “I can’t wait any longer. It’s too cold for her to be out here.”

  Mom didn’t answer me, but I heard her crying before she hung up.

  The creek bed that ran through our property crossed over into the Hood’s place down below me. It didn’t make sense that she could have gotten that far past me without me knowing unless she took the wrong turn up at the bend. That would have her going south of me but on the other side of the thicket. Which would mean she might be stuck in the muddy bed further over and down.

  The empty night gripped me. Tears streamed my face, as I searched and prayed for forgiveness for my mistakes…

  Hours dragged by as I slowly combed the land on foot and ATV. Without much fuel left, I was forced to seek help, and time was escaping. With hundreds of acres and several property owners adjoining, she could be lost for hours in the cold dark night, waiting patiently for me to save her or worse, unconscious and unable to call out…

  21

  Willow

  The terrain was difficult to navigate. Even though I tried holding on to limbs and tree trunks, my useless flip-flops caused me to fall several times. My legs stung from superficial stab wounds, compliments of the elements.

  “Tate!” I called out until my voice was hoarse. I had no idea where I was, and I felt more and more like an idiot as the time passed.

  Exhausted, I had to stop for a moment. Sitting at the base of a tree, I leaned back against it. If only I could see my surroundings and ensure there were no creepy, crawly things around me. I guess there was something to be said for not knowing.

  Shutting my eyes for a mere second, I tried to stay positive.

  Think of something beautiful…

  I pictured holding my little Arrow in my arms. Would he have dark hair like Tate and me or would he have no hair at all? Or would he be a she? We hadn’t even discussed names yet. Could it be Tatiana or Jett or Chevy?

  Good grief, don’t let Tate be in charge of names.

  Cold, tired, and hungry, I slipped my arms inside my sweatshirt to stay warm. I tried to remain awake, but if I only power napped for a minute, then I was sure I would be able to keep going.

  Don’t sleep! You’ll be coyote bait.

  Fight for you. Tate’s words rang out in my head.

  I slipped my sleeves back on and jumped up. Energy. Energy. Focus. Focus.

  “Tate, please answer!”

  Nothing.

  My steps were no longer downhill. I felt the grade shift upwards, and the walk began to take more out of me, but I made it to a clearing.

  There were no houses in sight, but behind me, I heard a scuffle in the trees.

  I froze.

  22

  Tate

  Making my way quickly back to the house, I saw the county team assembling in the driveway. “Sheriff Monroe, thank you.”

  He shook my extended hand. “We need clothing that she’s worn, the more recent the better.”

  That wasn’t hard. Willow changed clothes like she changed her mind. Often. Worse, she tended to pile them in the corner of the closet floor.

  In the bedroom, I picked up the tank top with “Arrow on board” and swiped at my eyes before going back out to the team the sheriff had assembled. “She had this on just this morning.”

  The dog handler took the tank top from me and started working with the dogs.

  With three ATV’s fueled and a group of neighbors and family gathered, we started our search party. It was like something you saw on television—walkie-talkies and a command center all lit up, and moms embracing each other in silent prayer.

  I wanted to wring Willow’s neck and hold her for eternity at the same time.

  I rode in the back of Dad’s pickup, using a spotlight and what little voice I had left to call out to her. My body was so heavy with both a physical and an emotional ache.

  The radio had activity, and one of the deputies rode up to us on his ATV. “We’ve found her four-wheeler—fuel empty. We’re close, Tate. We’ll find her.”

  That sign at least gave us a direction for where she’d headed. The bad news was that she was deep into ranch land, and coyotes and bobcats claimed it at night.

  A shrill scream grabbed my attention. “Dad, did you hear that?”

  “It was a cat, son.”

  “No, hurry, it was her.”

  But hurry to where?

  23

  Willow

  The sound of the cat’s call stopped my heart for a moment, and the hairs on my body stood on end.

  If I run into the clearing, will I be chased? If I stand still, will my hunter give up easily?

  The moon wasn’t bright enough for me to really see anything other than shadows in the darkness, and I couldn’t make any details out of them. Where was a full moon when you need one?

  Close your eyes to adjust to the darkness…

  In the E.R. we used to say the full moon brought out crazies.

  Well, I am definitely crazy, so please give me my moon time.
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  When I opened my eyes, I was able to see very tiny, faint lights in the distance.

  Sitting duck or courageous fighter, I had two choices. I took off walking quickly toward the lights and kept them in focus while fear raced through me.

  I stumbled and fell a couple of times, once twisting my ankle, and that’s when I threw off the flips flops. Hell, they weren’t doing me any favors anyway.

  Barefoot and determined, the challenge was on. As I got closer to the lights, I realized it was just one light, but with tree limbs moving in the wind, it looked like more.

  A streetlight. Yes, thank you, God.

  I walked for a bit longer before I came to a home. I had no idea where I was, and it wasn’t a house I’d seen before. It could’ve been the home of a reclusive serial killer, but at this point, what did I have to lose?

  When I knocked on the door, no one answered. I rang the bell, but no one answered, and I couldn’t hear anything inside.

  Shit. Serial killer came back to mind.

  Frustrated, dirty, and just plain pissed off, I walked to the road and looked both ways. Curves in both directions.

  Fight for you…

  A thief or a robber I wasn’t, but desperate…? That fit.

  I walked back to the house and rang the bell and beat on the door. Still no answer. I went around to the backyard and was about to open the gate when the sound of a pissed-off dog stopped me.

  Okay, fine, you win.

  Walking out to the road, I was about to go left when I saw lights flicker through the trees to my right. Then I heard the sound of a car and saw headlights approaching. Giddy that someone was coming, I backed off the road to wait and flag them down.

  A car from the sheriff’s department arrived and pulled up beside me. Warm air emanated from the window.

  “Ma’am, are you Willow Conway?”

  I wasn’t used to hearing my new last name, but I loved the sound of it. “Yes, I am, and I’m lost.”

  The deputy stepped out of the car and wrapped a blanket around me. “Some folks are gonna be happy to see you.”

  He communicated over the radio for several moments after he assisted me to the backseat of the car.

  Just lovely. Now I’m a criminal sans handcuffs. But it was so warm; safety had never felt so good.

  The clock on the dash read one thirty-three in the morning. Tate was gonna be pissed. I could just hear it now…

  Before we could pull away from the side of the road, we were swarmed with activity—four-wheelers, dogs, and…Tate.

  He jumped from the back of his dad’s truck and ran toward the sheriff’s car. Opening my door, he let me out.

  “I’m so sorry for everything,” I cried.

  He pulled me in front of the headlights and checked me over. “Shhh,” he soothed with his hoarse voice. “Don’t. I’m the fuckin’ retard. This is my fault for shutting you out. I can’t blame you for trying to come to me.” He kissed my forehead.

  After the whole group gathered and the sheriff accounted for everyone, we were allowed to leave.

  Wrapped tightly in the blanket, Tate held me in his arms in the front seat of his dad’s truck.

  Lawrence patted my leg several times. “It could happen to anyone, kiddo.”

  If it was gonna happen to anyone, it was gonna be me, it seemed.

  There was another large group gathered at our home.

  “She’s fine, but she needs a hot shower to warm up first. Then we’ll be out,” Tate uttered gruffly as he carried me through the crowd.

  Alone in our bathroom, I cried. “I’m sorry. I broke your trust and that started all of this—”

  He kissed me hard on the mouth then turned on the hot water. “I’ll never doubt you again. This scared me beyond—”

  I dropped the blanket and held his face in my hands. “I love you so much.”

  “We’re a beautiful mess…” he whispered.

  Epilogue

  Six Months Later

  Tate and I swung on the back porch, enjoying the summer sunset after dinner with his parents while he held Micah. We’d decided to keep the ranch. It was everything on my bucket list and more, and it was Tate’s escape from his day job in the city.

  Okay, I periodically snuck in with the baby and worked alongside Tate, but we swore the team to secrecy from Marcus. I figured he probably knew, but the game was fun.

  We had so many things to be grateful for. The rest of my pregnancy and delivery were a piece of cake, and Tate was the best father on the planet. He had Micah cooing for him at four weeks old, and they were best friends, sleeping in the recliner together for naps.

  The fears of the past no longer haunted me, and the anxiety over motherhood left the moment they placed our son in my arms. I couldn’t imagine being anywhere else.

  No sleepwalking.

  Both sets of grandparents were over the moon at our choice for his name, Lawrence Micah Conway. Tate’s given name was Lawrence, and my brother’s name was Micah. It was a beautiful blend of family and tradition and love.

  “I never saw this in my future,” he said before kissing the baby’s head.

  “Me either. Now, I never wanna leave.”

  “Hmm,” he said under his breath.

  When I looked at him, he was staring off toward our new barn. “What does that mean?”

  “Well, Bolster is looking to do Corvette Force 2, and well…”

  “New York?”

  He nodded.

  “When?”

  “Three weeks from Friday.” He was smiling.

  “Yum. Dibs on the penthouse?” My libido was already gearing up.

  “Who knows, baby number two?” He leaned over baby number one to kiss me suggestively.

  “Why wait…?”

  The End

  About the Author

  USA Today and International Bestselling Author Abbie St. Claire writes in the romance genre. With a tagline of "Romance with suspense, sizzle and sass," one can imagine many things happen between her covers. Her stories are fresh and relatable.

  Claire hails from central Texas and has an addiction to cookie dough. She writes from her kitchen, the heart of her home and family.

  Email: abbiest.claire@gmail.com

  Other Books by Abbie St. Claire:

  The Fifth Avenue Series

  Conflicted, Book One

  Complicated, Book Two

  Captivated, Book Three

  Stand Alone Novels

  An Unforgettable Lesson

  Tracks to Love

  Chasing Air

  It Happened At 51 (A romantic Comedy)

  Stand Alone Titles

  Ace’s Key

  Booty Call

  Christmas In July

  Consolation Prize

  Kiss Me Novellas - Standalone

  Kiss Me-My Ass

  Kiss Me-There

  Kiss Me-A Duet #1

  The Creek Series

  The Creek, A Novel

  Broken Creek

  Forgiveness Creek

  Redemption Creek

  The Running Series

  Running To You

  Two Sides of a Heartbeat

  My Confession

  For more information on books by Abbie St. Claire, click here.