“When you’re left alone, you get high.”
“Not anymore.” It was never about some high. He needed an escape from his thoughts, to turn off his brain, so he didn’t have to remember or feel or do something he couldn’t take back and end it all.
Eliza needed him to be better. So he was going to do better.
“So if you won’t go back to rehab, what are you going to do?” Max asked, sounding genuinely interested, even if Hunt still wanted to kill him for what happened with their mom.
“I’m going home.”
“To the ranch?” Max’s eyes went wide with shock. “Dad’s not going to like that. He’s—”
“As stubborn as you,” Hunt interjected, cutting off whatever else Max intended to say.
Hunt and Max exchanged a look. Hunt pushed harder. “Where exactly do you plan to stay?”
He didn’t know. Somewhere close to his girl since he no longer had his furnished apartment in town. Everything he owned was in the bag next to the hospital bed. “I’ll figure it out.” He hoped he had enough on his credit card to get him a motel room for a few nights so he could go and see Eliza and find a job before he ended up on the streets like so many other vets who struggled to assimilate into society again.
Hunt narrowed his eyes, one side of his mouth drawn back in a derisive frown. “Great plan.”
Before Chase got a chance to tell his brother to fuck off, an officer walked through the door. “Chase Wilde?”
His heart raced. “Yeah.” He had a flashback of Hunt slamming him into the ground, yanking his arms behind his back, and cuffing him. Hunt had taken great joy in arresting him.
“I came to get your statement about what happened last night.” The officer checked out Hunt and Max, then focused on him again.
Of course Hunt couldn’t keep his damn nose out of Chase’s business. “I’m Hunt Wilde. Willow Fork, Wyoming PD. Is my brother under arrest?” Lucky for Chase, they were in Montana, so Hunt had no jurisdiction here, but he could still use his badge to steer the officer into doing what Hunt thought Chase deserved.
When Hunt arrested him back home, that had been rehab. Now, he wondered if Hunt wanted him locked up behind bars. For his own good, Hunt would say, but Chase knew it was revenge, pure and simple.
The officer raised a brow. “For attempting to save a woman’s life?”
Hunt stared at him wide-eyed.
Chase crossed his arms and stared at his lap. “You said it. Attempted. But I didn’t save her.”
“Tell me what happened,” the officer prompted, pulling out a pad and pen to take notes.
Chase glanced at Hunt, who crossed his arms over his chest and glared down at Chase as if to say, “You better not lie.”
Chase told the truth, despite how horrible it was. “My buddy’s girl let me stay in her place above the shop where it happened. She said I could eat whatever I wanted from the kitchen. I headed down to find something when I heard Juliana yelling. She sounded angry and desperate, so I rushed in to see if I could help her. The second I saw her, she collapsed to the floor.” Chase could see it all too clearly in his mind. “She just crumbled. I couldn’t get to her fast enough to stop her fall.” He could still hear the crack of her head hitting the polished cement floor. “When I reached her . . . I knew it was too late. Her eyes . . . She didn’t have a heartbeat. Training kicked in. I started CPR.”
“You gave her mouth-to-mouth,” the officer added.
Chase nodded. “I did, then yelled at the guy—I think he worked there—to call for help, but he was out of his mind, ranting. I tried to help her, but then . . .” It all went black.
“You passed out. You were dosed, just like Juliana,” the officer supplied.
Chase’s heart and breath stopped. That never crossed his mind. Of course, he hadn’t been able to think past losing Juliana so quickly. One moment she was vibrant and alive, and the next she simply dropped dead.
“I was dosed?” He really couldn’t believe it.
“Yes,” the officer confirmed. “Luckily Juliana’s sister Adria arrived on the scene and injected you with naloxone. It took two doses. But she saved your life.”
Hunt put up his hand. “Wait. Are you saying someone else dosed Juliana, and then Chase ingested the drug while giving Juliana mouth-to-mouth?”
“Exactly. We have it all on video.”
Chase ran his hands over his face. “I thought I had some kind of blackout.”
“No sir,” the officer assured him. “You did everything you could for Juliana, but nothing would have saved her with that much fentanyl in her system.”
“Fentanyl.” No wonder it took him down so fast. Fentanyl was a hundred times more potent than morphine. He’d been addicted to oxycodone. Same opioid family, but nowhere near as deadly. Even a small dose of fentanyl could kill.
“We’re looking for the suspect who fled the scene. Seems he dosed her with what he thought was heroin. Turns out he bought a bad batch. The fentanyl-laced heroin had already killed six people. We were in the process of tracking down the suppliers and letting the public know . . .” The officer shook his head. “It’s a tragedy she died the way she did when she’d worked so hard to get clean.” The officer stepped closer. “I hope this doesn’t set you back in your recovery.”
“I’m good.” In fact, he felt a hell of a lot better knowing he hadn’t caused Juliana’s death. But the weight of her loss and how Adria must have felt trying to save him when she knew her sister was gone just killed him.
He needed to contact Drake and check on Adria. He needed her to know how sorry he was for her loss and that he really had tried to save Juliana.
The officer turned the page in his notebook. “I just need your contact information for the file. I’m sure the DA will want to talk to you if this goes to trial.”
Chase rattled off his cell number.
“And your address?”
Chase shook his head. “Don’t have one right now, but I’m headed back to Wyoming and you can reach me on my cell.”
“Good luck to you. And I’m glad you survived.”
That’s what I do.
Though sometimes he’d wished he hadn’t.
But that was behind him—he hoped—even if the nightmares were still fresh in his mind.
The officer left him alone with his brothers again.
He glanced up at Hunt. “You were saying something about me using again?”
Hunt looked away.
Max sighed. “It sucks that girl died. It could have been you.”
Hunt unlaced his arms. “Remember that, Chase, the next time you want to use.”
Chase rolled his eyes and wanted to offer up another fuck you, but the nurse came in with some papers.
“Mr. Wilde, you’ve been cleared by the doctor and can go home.”
Yeah, he didn’t have one of those, but seeing his little girl sounded great. If Shelby allowed it.
He’d jump through any hoop she put in place. He’d do whatever it took. He’d show her he wasn’t a deadbeat dad. He cared. More than she knew. Because even if she didn’t know it, she’d saved him.
By Jennifer Ryan
Standalone Novels
Lost and Found Family
Sisters and Secrets
The Me I Used to Be
The McGrath Series
True Love Cowboy
Love of a Cowboy
Waiting on a Cowboy
Wild Rose Ranch Series
Tough Talking Cowboy
Restless Rancher
Dirty Little Secret
Montana Heat Series
Tempted by Love
True to You
Escape to You
Protected by Love
Montana Men Series
His Cowboy Heart
Her Renegade Rancher
Stone Cold Cowboy
Her Lucky Cowboy
When It’s Right
At Wolf Ranch
The McBrides Series
&nbs
p; Dylan’s Redemption
Falling for Owen
The Return of Brody McBride
The Hunted Series
Everything She Wanted
Chasing Morgan
The Right Bride
Lucky Like Us
Saved by the Rancher
Short Stories
“Close to Perfect” (appears in Snowbound at Christmas)
“Can’t Wait” (appears in All I Want for Christmas Is a Cowboy)
“Waiting for You” (appears in Confessions of a Secret Admirer)
Copyright
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Untitled excerpt copyright © 2021 by Jennifer Ryan.
true love cowboy. Copyright © 2021 by Jennifer Ryan. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins Publishers. For information, address HarperCollins Publishers, 195 Broadway, New York, NY 10007.
Digital Edition SEPTEMBER 2021 ISBN: 978-0-06-300632-4
Print Edition ISBN: 978-0-06-302080-1
Cover design by Nadine Badalaty
Cover photographs © 2020 Rob Lang/roblangimages.com (cowboy); © stock.adobe.com; © Getty Images
Avon, Avon & logo, and Avon Books & logo are registered trademarks of HarperCollins Publishers in the United States of America and other countries.
HarperCollins is a registered trademark of HarperCollins Publishers in the United States of America and other countries.
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