The Hero I Need: A Small Town Romance

by Snow, Nicole

My nerves are just about shot to tatters.

  “Careful. We don’t want Bruce to hear,” I tell Willow. “He could be stalking them.”

  “I doubt it,” she says, shaking her head. “He’s not hungry, he ate his dinner, so as long as he’s not cornered...he’s not going to treat them like prey.”

  “Lady, you’d better be right,” Bella tells her with a wink.

  I hope like hell she is too.

  For everyone’s sake.

  Sure, he’s practically her pet, but I also know he’s a wild beast with instincts that aren’t like any farm animal, much less a house cat.

  I keep those thoughts to myself as Bella whistles again.

  The horse nickers louder.

  “The hell? Why isn’t he coming?” Drake asks his wife. “He always listens to that command.”

  “I don’t know, but it’s almost like...he wants me to come to him,” she answers, unsure.

  Drake grabs her arm and flings her to his chest.

  “Not on your life. I’ll go,” he says.

  Bella looks at him with a look that says try and stop me. If it weren’t so damn serious, I’d be laughing. Sometimes I think Drake’s still learning what he’s in for by wifing up an oil mogul’s adventurous granddaughter.

  Willow climbs off the four-wheeler and I grab her arm in a flash before she can get ahead of me.

  She flashes me an oh, really? look just like the one Drake received.

  Without another option, we flank the women as all four of us approach the trees. It’s not too far before we can make out both horses in the dark.

  They’re standing underneath a huge oak tree with vast coiling branches that hide the small amount of moonlight exposed by the drifting clouds.

  “Hold up,” Drake says, shining his flashlight at the horses and then lashing it around them.

  I’m doing the same with my light, wondering if Bruce is somewhere close, crouched down in the grasses.

  Maybe that’s why the horses are scared to move, knowing he’ll pounce if they do.

  I can’t make out any green-gold eyes in the dark, no movement, nothing that looks out of place.

  “Edison,” Bella calls softly. “Meet you at the barn!”

  The horse tosses his head and stomps the dirt but doesn’t take a single step away from his post.

  Weird.

  “Damn, that’s odd. He’s never failed to do it,” Drake says.

  Willow reaches over. “Can I see that flashlight for a sec?”

  I hand it to her and follow as she moves forward, shining the light up into the trees.

  For a second, there’s just a tangle of darkness, crisscrossed limbs and gnarled branches barely illuminated.

  Then I see it. The black blur, a large spot blocking the light that shouldn’t be there.

  Holy fucking hell.

  “That is you,” she hisses, almost in awe.

  I zero in on where she’s shining the light and barely make out a long, thick rope hanging down.

  No, more like...a tail.

  Bella and Drake gasp, rubbing at their eyes in disbelief.

  “Fuck, Grady. Is that...”

  “Yeah, Drake. Found him,” I whisper.

  “Well, I’m not climbing up there to get you!” Willow says matter-of-factly into the darkness. “You’re just gonna have to find your own way down, Brucey.”

  Bella moves to her other side, reaching out to rub Edison’s nose. “Mission accomplished, Einstein. Thanks a million. Now time for you to get in the trailer with Edna. There’ll be a whole box of candy canes for you guys tonight.”

  Edison nickers, tossing his head like he knows what he deserves. Then he nudges the other horse. They barely pause as they walk past us, heading for the trailer.

  “Shit, now how the hell are we going to make that cat cooperate?” Drake asks, chuckling. “Don’t think the candy cane trick will work on him.”

  “Damned if I know,” I admit.

  We can’t just hit him with a dart, either. He’s hundreds of pounds, and even if he’s not up that high, he might crash down and break a few bones if he passes out.

  Willow walks closer to the tree, up to the place where the horses were. I join her.

  Bruce is now directly above us, laid out along the branch like a house cat waiting for the fire department to come charging to the rescue. At which point he’d climb higher, of course.

  Dammit, I hope that tiger doesn’t go higher.

  “So what now?” I ask. “Any ideas?”

  “We go help them load up the horses, then I say we pull your truck and trailer as close together as possible,” Willow replies. “He’ll have an easier time jumping, and I’ll make him get in the trailer.”

  “How’re you gonna pull that off? We should’ve brought some meat,” I grind out.

  “Oh, I’ll think of something.”

  Seeing how she’s been right about everything else, I’d be a fool not to trust her.

  Edison and Edna clop into Drake’s trailer with barely any encouragement. I pull my truck past his, turn it around, and then back up as close to the trees as possible.

  Once the gate opens and I’m standing outside again, I ask, “What now?”

  “Get in the truck.”

  “Come again?”

  “Get in the truck, Grady!” She smiles. “And make sure Drake and Bella don’t get out of theirs.”

  “Why? What the hell are you thinkin’?”

  “Just get in the truck and trust me.”

  I shake my head, refusing to leave her out here alone with a scared tiger.

  “Remember when he heard me scream earlier?” she asks. “Unless you want to get ripped to pieces...get in the truck, now.”

  Oh.

  Oh, mama, let’s fucking go!

  Grinning ear to ear, I walk to the driver’s door and climb in, but I keep one hand on the handle and my eyes on the mirror where I can see her.

  Taking a huge breath, Willow lets out an earsplitting scream.

  My heart leaps into my throat.

  The instant sharp crack! of a tree branch braises the air.

  Bruce lands on the ground a second later, crouched low and looking around with blazing gold eyes.

  Willow says his name and talks to him quietly, softly as he flicks his tail.

  Very slowly, he moves closer, looking at her and then swinging his head left and right. She keeps talking till he follows, leading him to the ramp and the trailer one step at a time.

  I leap out and run back, help her lift the door, and secure it as fast as my fingers can move.

  “Fuck me. If I hadn’t just seen that, I never would’ve believed it,” Drake says, standing at my side, letting out a whistle.

  “Right ahead of you, man. I’ve been saying that for weeks,” I tell him.

  “I think she’s a keeper,” Drake says with a lopsided grin.

  No fucking comment.

  “What I can’t believe,” Willow says with a smile that splits me open, “is the way your horses ran him up the tree and kept him there for us to find.”

  “That’s our Edison,” Drake says, every bit of fondness bleeding through.

  I snort. “Who ever heard of a tiger scared of horses? Is this real life?”

  “First time for everything,” Willow says, relaxing her head on my shoulder as the last of her energy from this cluster of a night gives out.

  13

  C’mere, Tiger (Willow)

  As much as I wish it would, this long-ass night doesn’t end there.

  While Grady takes the long road home, I drive back on the four-wheeler cross-country, and spot a pickup in the driveway as I’m closing in on the farm.

  Not Grady’s, but Uncle Hank’s.

  Crap.

  Hank’s here! I text Grady as I park the ATV and jump off.

  What? Why? Did something happen? he sends back.

  I don’t know yet. But I need to find out ASAP.

  And I get my chance a second later when the screen
door bangs open and a pint-sized silhouette materializes.

  “You’re back!” Sawyer shouts. “Uncle Hank stopped by to see if we had any damage. I told him you were helping Drake and Bella catch Edison and Edna.”

  Whew. Smart freaking girl.

  “And I just sent a text to Daddy telling him the same thing!” Avery adds.

  “Good job, girls,” I answer, jogging toward the house.

  We should both be crazy thankful they’re so quick on their feet for ten-year-olds. Though I feel bad about them distorting the truth, I’m proud of them for keeping our secrets.

  “I was at the bar when the storm came tearing through,” Hank says as I enter the house. “Had to stay there till it was over. The winds knocked over the whole dumpster out back, and Weston and I cleaned it up before leaving. Grady texted asking me to check-in on the girls, so I decided to do it in the flesh.”

  He’s a tall, lanky man with a huge cowboy hat riding low on his head, and he grins at me like he’s telling some bawdy inside joke.

  “Oh, thanks! Grady will appreciate it,” I say. “He’s still coming back from Drake and Bella’s. I rode the ATV home.”

  “Well, as long as all’s well here, I’m heading out.” He glances at the girls and then back to me as he continues. “Tell old Grady to call me and I’ll come by to help him fix that barn door. Damn good thing he never kept anything alive in there, huh?”

  Uh-oh.

  His probing tone is telling.

  Hank isn’t stupid. He knows something’s up. That’s a given.

  Needing him to leave before he figures anything out, I gesture at the girls.

  “Don’t worry. I’ll mention it. Thank you again,” I say, trying to be as diplomatic as possible. “I need to get the girls off to bed.”

  Nodding with one last smile, he walks out the door and down the steps.

  My stomach sinks.

  I’ve always sensed something isn’t quite right between Hank and Grady. The girls adore their uncle like he hung the stars, but there’s no denying how Grady seems at odds whenever Hank picks up the girls.

  Almost like this weird secret wall between them with whole speeches tucked between the lines.

  I don’t get it.

  The girls start asking questions two at a time as soon as I shut the door. I smile, wondering how it’s even possible that I haven’t been with them that long.

  Our connection runs deep, the kind of groove you only find when you meet folks who really share your vibe.

  They’ve already talked to Grady on the phone and know Bruce is fine.

  They chatter on with a dozen stories about Edison the genius horse, telling me how Bella let them brush him and feed him candy canes a few times.

  There, too, I’d felt a connection. Bella Larkin felt like she was on my wavelength, especially in a pretty big crisis.

  If things were different, I could see myself making friends with these folks and feeling right at home in these parts.

  After growing up partly in San Diego and spending the rest of my time trekking around the world, a stick in the mud town like Dallas shouldn’t be tucked around my heart like a weighted blanket.

  But every day I’m here, every person I meet, every minute I’m with Grady and his girls...

  Yeah.

  Something digs in hard and deep.

  And I’m kinda afraid what that means when the time comes to move on.

  Headlights reflect off the front door, and I’m instantly reminded it’s not all summer fun.

  This is a freaking mess, and we all just dodged a cannonball.

  Thankfully, Bruce was full, so he hadn’t been out on the prowl for a meal, just frightened by the storm.

  Now I have to find a place for him until we can get the barn door fixed.

  Awesome.

  More work, more complications, and even more frayed nerves.

  I open the door and step outside but lock up on the steps when I notice a second truck behind Grady’s. It’s Uncle Hank’s big pickup returning.

  Mega crap.

  What now?

  Staying put on the porch, I watch as the men meet near the loaner stock trailer holding Bruce. I swallow the thickness in my throat.

  Guess that seals it, then.

  There’s no way to keep this hidden any longer. Grady must’ve decided to give Hank the truth.

  I turn and tell the girls to stay inside, then walk down the steps to join them.

  Hank looks frantic after one good look through the slats in the trailer. He lets out a loud whistle, right before slapping a hand over his mouth.

  “It’s okay. He’s not gonna break out and claw you,” Grady tells him.

  But Hank mutters a few more indecipherable words and breaks away, jogging to his truck by the time I arrive next to Grady.

  It’s dark, but I can see the frustration souring his face, casting deep lines in his brow.

  Guilt hits me like a wrecking ball.

  I hate being responsible for all of this trouble and stress and secrecy.

  I abhor what my mess has done to this gorgeous man and his friends.

  “He’s grabbing his welder and torch to help me fix the barn door,” Grady says numbly as he walks back to the open door of his truck.

  “Tonight?” I ask, surprised.

  “Yep, tonight. I’ll back this trailer into the pole shed, but we won’t be able to close the door. Your boy needs a better place to crash. I hate thinking about him being cooped up in this trailer for even a day.”

  “It’s a solid trailer,” I say. “Bruce won’t be able to get out.”

  He reaches in the truck and retrieves his phone off the console. “Maybe not, but people can see inside it. They can see him. Already had to fill one more person in tonight on the fact that I’m housing an illegal tiger, and I can’t say I fancy doing it again.”

  Ouch.

  I get it now, even if it makes me feel like total crap.

  “Sad to say we’ve got a new problem, too,” he says, palming his phone.

  After swiping the screen, he passes it over.

  It’s a grainy picture, dark and blurry, but the unmistakable silhouette of a large cat shines darkly, running through a field of grass.

  “Oh, shit.” I purse my lips, already sure it’s Bruce. “Who took this?”

  “Whoever posted it on that Face-booger site everybody uses. Probably Thelma Simon, the town’s biggest gossip who runs the Earhart Bed and Breakfast. Drake said she reported him skulking around her property,” he says. “It’s blowing up the Dallas Community forum, too, and making its way to other sites. People are forming search crews to look for it. A lot of folks are supposedly debating whether it’s the biggest damn cougar they’ve ever seen or something else.”

  Oh my God.

  My heart beats like mad as my worst fears come true.

  He snatches the phone back as my hands go limp.

  “Drake showed it to me,” he continues. “People are tagging the police department’s page and county officials, asking what they’re doing about this.”

  “Crap, crap, crap,” I mumble, rubbing my temples furiously, knowing how crazy people get on social media.

  The tiniest rumor can take on legendary proportions.

  This is so not good. We’ve just entered disaster territory.

  “There’s more. Power’s blown out all over the county,” he says. “Crews have already been dispatched. It’s only a matter of hours before they show up to fix the downed poles, including my yard light.”

  “You called them?” Even before he shakes his head, I know he hasn’t. It’s just an impulsive question.

  “No, but it’s a big enough light, and their system will tell them the power’s disabled. They’ll show up to fix it sooner or later. We have to get Bruce back in that barn ASAP.”

  Forget sleep, I’ve got plenty of motivation to stay up for the next week.

  “What can I do to help?” I ask, feeling another gut-punch of guilt.

&n
bsp; “Do you know how to drive a tractor?”

  “Sure do! Dad took me around a lot of farms on our travels.”

  “Okay. Once I get this trailer backed into the pole shed, we have to take the door off the barn. We’ll use the bucket on the tractor to lift the door off, then fix the track and the rollers, and get the door back on.” He ticks each task off his fingers, a mannerism that makes me grin.

  By the time Hank returns, Grady already has a chain around the barn door, standing in the bucket with me lifting him high enough to get the chain hooked on.

  He gestures to lower the bucket.

  I do, and he jumps out and climbs in the tractor next to me.

  “I’ll lay the door on the ground!” Grady shouts to Hank.

  Hank gives a thumbs-up and opens the tailgate on his pickup.

  Over the next couple hours, while the men work like fiends on the repair, I use rakes and a flashlight to find and erase the paw prints Bruce left in the mud.

  When they’re ready to lift the door again, Grady puts me back on tractor duty.

  I’m pleasantly surprised at how smooth it goes, getting the door’s rollers back in the fixed track.

  It’s still dark out, barely a slash of sunlight twinkling over the horizon, but from what I can see, the door looks like it’s as good as new.

  “Now how do we get that tiger back in the barn?” Hank asks after I’ve parked the tractor out of the way.

  Grady looks at me, waiting for an answer.

  Fingers crossed, I say, “We’ll back the trailer in as close to the opening as possible, and I’ll coax him inside.”

  “Coax or scream?” Grady asks.

  The good-natured glint in his eye gives me the first sense of relief I’ve had since finding Bruce and scrambling our way through this makeshift cover-up all night.

  “Whatever works best,” I answer with a wink.

  Before he gets in his truck to swing the trailer around to the barn, Grady tells Hank to go inside the house and make sure the girls are still asleep. He’s happy to oblige, looking more than a little worn out from the surreal situation he’s been tossed into.

  Once the trailer is backed in as close to the barn as possible—still leaving just enough room for me to put down the back door—Grady climbs out of his pickup.

  “Let’s go. I’ll pull my truck on one side, unhitch the trailer, and let him rip. Already got Hank’s truck on the other side. Bruce should be walled in.” He looks at his setup, using the trucks as extra barricades since the Larkin’s trailer is too tall to back right into the barn.