by Aria Ford
I sighed. “Not bad,” I lied. In contrast with her day, mine was unremarkable. I wasn’t really going to own up to it.
“Great! Let’s go.”
Alexa always looked good. In a soft gray sweater with charcoal slacks and a midthigh length duster, she looked chic and elegant. I felt clunky in my outsize ocher shirt and faded tan jeggings. I shrugged, ran a hand through my frazzled strawberry curls and joined her.
“What’s up, Kell?” she asked as we both got into my car and headed downtown. “You’re stressed.”
“Nothing important,” I lied. Then I paused. “Miller?” I always called her by her surname—it was a tradition we’d started when we met
“Mm?”
“Am I crazy?” I sighed. “I mean…why is it I’m not living the life everyone else seems to be living?”
Alexa put her head on one side. “You’re not crazy,” she said after a long pause. “And besides,” she added as we pulled away from the stop street, “why is that a bad thing?”
“Why is what bad?” I asked, keeping an eye out for the stoplight. I didn’t need a traffic fine.
“Not being like everyone else?” she questioned.
I paused. “Well…I guess it isn’t that bad.”
She laughed. “It’s not bad at all. You know what?”
“What?”
“Some people would wish they could say that. Even I sometimes wish I could.” She made a small rueful face.
“You?” I laughed. “I don’t believe that, Miller—you’re so perfect.” I thought she was. A good job, great wardrobe, a boyfriend who was starting his own company. She was what everyone was supposed to be.
She snorted. “In whose opinion?”
I shrugged. “Well, our bosses. The rest of our colleagues and… everyone, I guess.”
“Well, it’s nice of you to say so. But really? Since when is doing everything normal anything but, well, normal?”
I blinked. “Well, when you put it like that, I guess…”
She laughed. “I do put it like that. You’re great the way you are, Kell.”
“Thanks,” I said, feeling a flicker of pride in my chest.
“Now, come on,” she said encouragingly. “Let’s go and get dinner. I’m ravenous.”
“Me too.”
As we drove to Green Food, our favorite vegetarian restaurant, I found myself feeling not only a small glimmer of pride, but of excitement.
I was going to do something out of the ordinary. I was going to pack my bags and head to Wyoming. To help my grandpa. And, for once, to enjoy being myself.
CHAPTER TWO
Reese
The dust on the road blurred my vision as the pickup coughed and then died in the drive of my farm. I ran my hands through my dark hair and sighed, my patience fraying even further.
“My life is a mess.”
I fiddled with the key in the ignition of the pickup, then put my foot on the gas and did the same thing, trying to get the thing to start. Damned pickup! It was secondhand and had a mind of its own.
I did the trick with the gas again. It was a delicate undertaking, getting the balance right. The spark plugs were going—I knew that. I just hadn’t found the time to go to the dealer and by more.
I don’t seem to find time for anything sensible nowadays.
Ever since moving to Sheridan, WY, I had found my life was full of small, hard-to-solve problems. On the one hand, that annoyed me. On the other hand, it was great—it stopped me from having to think about big, impossible-to-solve problems.
Like the fact that I’m such a loser.
That was the litany that played through my head every day, the one that had plagued me ever since I returned from my military service with the 4th Combat.
The engine made a promising noise. It started. “Yay!” I yelled, relieved. “We did it.”
I put my foot on the gas and shot out of the yard, heading into town.
The road was hot and steaming, a ribbon of tar through fields that baked under a merciless sun. As I drove across the barren, scrubby landscape, I made a point of not focusing on the place it reminded me of. The stony, wind-scoured hills of the Karakorum. Not that they looked similar—not really—it was just that they were both desolate and uninhabited.
I am going to forget all about that.
The last memories I wanted to revisit were the memories from then. My time of service in Afghanistan. Now that I was here, demobbed, and released from that, I could finally forget. Or at least that was the plan. That was what I’d hoped when I returned to Wyoming and bought a farm, settled down. Some hope. It was also then that I had learned, completely and unequivocally, that the memories weren’t going anywhere.
I couldn’t even manage to save Parker and Hewitt.
I didn’t want to think about that. The day the firing had started, and they had been following me, I hadn’t made the right choices. I had gotten those men killed, for nothing worse than listening to me. I hated myself.
I bit my lip, made myself forget. The words that shamed me and called me a coward, never stopped. Not really.
I couldn’t even make things work with Brody, my girlfriend. I wasn’t the same person when I came back and we had both decided to go our separate ways. I was glad she could be reasonable about it. At the time I hadn’t been too good at being reasonable. Or rational. Or anything.
Stop it, Reese. Keep your mind on the road. I clenched my big fists round the wheel and focused on the long, winding road up ahead: it calmed me.
If I was driving or fixing the millions of small issues that happened on the new ranch, I could forget my past; silence those voices that told me I was weak and stupid and a failure. No other time.
If for no other reason, I’m glad I bought it for that. It gave me distraction. And distraction was what I needed.
“Oh, for crying…” I swore as the engine made a funny noise.
I was on the main road, heading from my ranch to Sheridan, funnily enough, to take the pickup in to see if I could have the brakes replaced.
This is all I need. The pickup breaking down on this road. The pickup—ancient and maltreated—had been sold to me by the farmer up the road for what I had thought was a fraction of its worth. I now understood why. There was more wrong with it than right with it. And now, it seemed, it had decided to abandon me in the middle of the landscape.
“Damn it!”
I slammed the wheel in sheer frustration. I had the feeling that the trick with the gas wasn’t going to help. It wasn’t not starting that was the problem. Something was wrong.
I climbed out and opened the hood. The clouds of steam that billowed out told me something had overheated.
Either that or I forgot to refill the radiator. Oh, for…I sighed.
The engine was really hot, and I could smell oil and steam and the burning scent of metal that was far too hot for any good.
“Now what?”
I was out on a road that was miles away from anything. If anyone came by, it would probably be a miracle. And I had forgotten to plug in the phone.
Not that anyone was going to pick up if I called. I sat down on the roadside in frustration.
“My life sucks.”
I sighed. That wasn’t going to help matters. I stood and walked around the truck. Came back to the front.
That was when I heard it. An engine. Someone was coming.
I stood up and dragged myself to standing. I watched the approach of whoever it was. The car driving along looked in little better repair than my own pickup, but it was better than dying of thirst on the roadside while I waited. I waved, thumbing down the car. To my amazement, it slowed. To my even greater amazement, it pulled up. Someone got out of the door.
I stared.
The woman standing on the roadside was easily the hottest thing I had ever seen. With clouds of red hair and a trim waistline, with a sweet face and big smile, I had never laid eyes on someone who had the same effect on me as she was having. To say nothi
ng of the big breasts in that tight sweatshirt. I was staring and I knew it. My blood was thudding in my veins and my whole body felt a tingle go through it. I think it was her appearance combined with how unexpected it was. I wasn’t expecting a hot woman to get out of that beat up old VW on the main road.
“Can I help?”
I grinned. “Maybe.”
She gave me a look. “Seriously, mister. Don’t try it on…I was asking if you need help with your car. Can I call the roadside help?”
I laughed, surprised by her confrontational attitude. It was meant to push me away, I guess, but it had the effect of getting me even more excited. “I dunno if anyone can help with this,” I said, feeling a mix of annoyance at the offer and a need to impress her. “If I can’t fix it, it ain’t possible.”
She raised a brow. The expression was delightful. It sent a fire running in my blood. “You’re confident,” she said.
I nodded. “Yeah. I am.” I felt a stab of annoyance. Fine…this woman was my only hope of getting into town without risking a long, parched wait on the roadside. But would she either just call the car-repair people and spare me the knowledge I couldn’t fix it, or go away? I was feeling stupid.
She didn’t say anything. Just turned her back and went back to her car.
“Hey!” I called out. “Where’re you going?” I was suddenly filled with a very real panic: what if she just got into her car and drove away, leaving me here?
She gave me a pitying stare. “I’m getting the phone.”
“Oh.” I blinked. “Well, thank you.”
“Oh!” She grinned. “You do have manners.”
“Sometimes.”
I laughed.
A moment later I heard her on the phone. “Hello. Yes, I’m calling from the side of the…which road is this again?” she yelled to me. I frowned. Didn’t she know that?
“The three-three-two!”
“It’s the three three two.” A pause while she listened to their next instructions. “Whereabouts? I’m thinking…about five miles away from Sheridan?”
I nodded. She raised a thumb in agreement.
“Tell them the engine’s overheated.” I offered.
“The engine’s overheated.” Another pause. “Um…yes. Thanks.”
I looked at her with a questioning expression and she hung up. She came over.
“They’re on their way.”
I snorted. Now that the crisis was momentarily averted, the fact that Reese Bradford, recent lieutenant of the Fourth Brigade Combat Team had failed to fix my own truck was too much for me. I sighed and looked away.
Now I’m not only a failure and a hopeless case; I’m a failure and a hopeless case who couldn’t even fix my broken shit.
“So,” the woman said in her foreign accent. “Who are you? I’m Kelly.”
“I.” I didn’t smile—I didn’t want to talk. Why didn’t she just go away? I wasn’t up for this.
“Well, then. Hi there.”
I shook her hand. Despite my bad mood, a flicker of energy passed through me as I touched her hand, a spark that leaped up my blood vessels to my cock and made my heart thump.
Not that she’s likely to want me. I mean, now she knows I can’t even remember to put water in the cooler. What a fail.
“It’s a great day,” Kelly said. I scowled. She stared at me.
“What?” I asked moodily.
“Just wondering if the cat got your tongue…”
I glared at her. “Look. Just go away, okay? I don’t much like having to ask women to help me with my engine trouble.”
She laughed. “Wow. That’s some attitude. Well, then. I’ll just get in my car and go, then.”
I shrugged. “Well, thanks for the help.” I turned to leave. She stayed where she was.
“What?” I asked.
She didn’t say anything. She just stared at me. I felt my irritation rise and then, abruptly, fizzle. I was being stupid. She hadn’t done anything but try and help me. Why was I being like this?
“What?” I asked again, more kindly.
“I don’t know where I’m going…not exactly.”
I chuckled. “Well! For someone who didn’t know where they were, you sounded mighty confident.”
She frowned. “I didn’t say I didn’t know where I was, did I?”
“No,” I admitted. I couldn’t help it—I was starting to like her. For all her irritating ways, she was actually brave. Not many people could put up with my moods…in fact, she was the first person I had met who didn’t walk away when I was like this. Even my old army buddies got fed up with me the way I was now.
“Well, then. Maybe you can help me?”
I pulled a face. “I’m not much use, am I?” The last time I’d tried to help someone, that time with Parker and Hewitt, they’d ended up dead. I wasn’t going to tell anyone that.
“You haven’t even done anything yet.”
I thought about that. Actually, she was right. I hadn’t yet. Not here. “I guess.”
“Well, then,” she laughed. “I am just needing to get myself to Orangehill Ranch.”
“Oh.” I frowned. I knew very well where the place was. But I wasn’t sure how to explain to her how to get there. I paused, thinking. Then I had an idea. “Maybe we can go into town together and then find the way there?”
“Okay,” she smiled. “It’s easier with two people. Though,” she said, giving me a sidelong glance, “I’m driving. Okay?”
I shrugged. “Fine. I don’t wanna drive that car,” I added, inclining my head toward the VW she was using. “I think it has its own character.”
She nodded. “You bet!” A chuckle escaped that long, pale throat. “It took me all day to get the thing to behave. I dunno why I hired it.”
“You hired it?” I frowned.
“Yeah,” she nodded. “From a local garage that said they loaned them. I chose it because it was cheaper than the rest. Silly, really.”
I grinned. “Well, I bought this for the same reason.”
She laughed. “We’re the same kind of silly.”
I nodded. “Seems like it.”
We were still chatting and laughing by the time the car-repair people arrived. They took one look at the pickup and grinned.
“What?” I asked.
“Nothing,” the one mechanic said. The other chuckled.
“You did well to get that thing on the road! That’s old Preston’s truck, yeah.”
“It was,” I agreed. What was that all about?
They both chuckled.
“Well, ain’t no small wonder it stopped dead on you,” the first guy said. “That thing’s been a piece of scrap since I started work.”
“Thanks,” I said thinly. “I always like to find out things like that after I’ve just bought.”
They both laughed.
“Well done, man,” the second guy said. “We’ll do our best with it.”
“Thanks.”
Kelly had been standing beside me during the short conversation. When the guys towed away my truck, she looked up and laughed.
“Sounds bad, yeah.”
“Yeah.”
We were both grinning at each other, though I couldn’t have said why. I guess I found it hard to take my eyes off her…she had those stunning coppery eyes and red hair and her body was so hot.
She laughed. “Well, could be worse. They’re fixing it, at least.”
“Yeah,” I snorted. “We can hope.”
“Yes.”
I sighed. “I guess we should head off,” I said. I was reluctant to move. I wanted to stand here and talk to her some more.
“We should,” she agreed. She looked at her watch. “I said I’d be there about half an hour ago. Don’t want to worry anyone.”
“Sure,” I agreed. “Thanks.”
“What for?”
“For helping me.”
“Of course I did.” She smiled and my body tingled at the sight of those red lips, her eyes glinting above th
em. She was pretty and nice and funny. I really liked her.
I wanted to take this further. It had been a long while since I’d felt this way about a girl, since I’d met someone who made me feel like that. And she was nice to talk to.
It was only when they had gone that I realized I had just spent twenty minutes talking to a stranger, and I hadn’t once felt myself fall into the black rages that drove away all my ex-friends. I had spoken perfectly naturally and reasonably for a full twenty minutes.
Well, I thought as I got into the passenger seat of her Golf and we headed off together, there’s a first time for everything.
CHAPTER THREE
Kelly
As I put my foot on the gas and pulled away along the sandy road to town, I perused the stranger who sat beside me. My suitcases were still in the back. I’d arrived last night. And I had just bumped into the hottest guy I’ve ever seen.
I had almost lost my breath the first time I saw him—he was stunning: tall, with that dark curly hair and that lean face.
Even though I guess I shouldn’t be picking up strangers in my car alone, I kinda fancy him.