Gravel Road

by Walls, Stephie

  Staying lower in the saddle helped to avoid some of the smoke, but it was dangerous for Nugget to be using that polluted air to fuel my race. We needed to get the horses and the cattle as far east as possible if we had any hope of saving them. The flames might as well have been a locomotive, as fast as they came. The wind gave them drive, and every minute that passed left me wondering if we could outrun them.

  Once we were in earshot, I called out to Tommy. “Where’s Jack?” There were only four guys with him, and Jack wasn’t one of them.

  “He went back for stragglers.” He didn’t linger to talk. All the guys were pushing the cattle hard.

  Jack had always had the herd mentality. It shouldn’t shock me that he went after a few head that couldn’t keep up, and under any other circumstances, it would have made sense. Today, saving their lives could mean losing his.

  “Tommy, how far back were they?” I had to yell to be heard.

  “A couple hundred yards when he went after them.” He halted his horse and turned him toward me.

  I didn’t need any more information. Tommy had faced me to keep from saying what he thought. His expression might as well have been Jack’s death certificate.

  At that point, I wasn’t sure who was the bigger fool, Jack or me. “Corey, go with Tommy. I’m going to see if I can find him.” I knew better than to go alone. Jack knew better than to take off after a few measly head. Nevertheless, he’d done it, and I was about to, as well.

  Corey gave me a curt nod, and Tommy shook his head. The others were none the wiser. Time was a precious commodity we didn’t have much of, and I burned through more of it with every second I sat there. Before I took off, Corey tossed me a bandana that I tied around my neck and then lifted over my mouth and nose. I didn’t bother to check behind me when I pulled the reins to the left and headed toward the glowing inferno that lit up the night sky.

  All the landmarks were now gone, the smoke obstructed any view of things in the distance that might have proved useful in tracking, and the fire seemed to burn in a circle that surrounded me from every angle. It snaked its way along the ground, shadowing everything around it. It was the first time in years that I thanked my lucky stars for knowing these pastures like they were my own. I’d spent most of my life out here. Anyone else would have been lost.

  With no hope of finding Jack, I almost turned around to save myself and Nugget—until the silhouette of Midnight rearing in the distance caught my attention. If I’d had a camera, the picture could have won awards. He was a beast, massive yet graceful. The flames were too close, and the stallion was unhappy, even though he was steadfast and diligently working at Jack’s command.

  Nugget went where I told him at a pace that wasn’t fair to him, given the conditions. I counted the cows Jack risked his life for, and I could have wrung the old man’s neck. Twelve. Twelve head. He’d put his life on the line, mine, and two horses for twelve damn head.

  “Jack!” No man could wrangle a frightened herd on one horse, no matter how small. “Jack! We’ve got to get out of here.” I coughed and tried to shield my face with my arm; unfortunately, the only clean air to be found hovered close to the ground.

  Jack hadn’t moved, and neither had two of the cattle closest to him. When I neared, I realized why. The stench was horrid—it was more than burned hay and singed wood. Jack hadn’t gotten all the stragglers out, and the pair of heifers at Midnight’s hooves needed to be put down. I’d left the house in such a hurry, I hadn’t thought to grab a gun. Jack had.

  There wasn’t time to debate it. He would either shoot them, or we would have to leave them to suffer. They weren’t pets. None of them even had names. But to Jack Adams, they were part of his ranch, and the ranch meant everything to him.

  “You need me to do it?” I spoke loudly enough to be heard without yelling. If Jack detected the fear in my voice, he didn’t let on.

  With the shotgun in hand, he tossed his leg over the saddle and slid down. Jesus, he was going to get us both killed. My attention darted between him and the fire crawling toward us. The boom of the first one went quick, reverberating through the thick night air. I held my breath for the echoed blast of the second. The shot rang out, and Jack slumped to his knees. I’d seen it play out in movies a hundred times before. There, in front of me, he dropped the gun, his arms fell to his sides, and he went face-first into the dirt as though he’d taken the bullet rather than the animal.

  Fuck. In seconds, I was off my horse and at his side. My best guess was smoke inhalation, worst-case scenario, heart attack. I didn’t have an MD or a clue. Nor did I have time to assess the situation. Nugget and Midnight were anxious. It wouldn’t take much for either to bolt. If they did, the cows wouldn’t be the only things to succumb to the forces of nature.

  In a split second, I made a decision. I grabbed Jack around the waist, and when he didn’t help himself to his feet, I put all my energy into my thighs to lift his dead weight. I had never struggled with the physical requirements of the job, and I doubted I could ever recreate the adrenaline needed to hoist Jack onto Midnight’s back. I unbridled the horse and used the reins in a pitiful attempt to secure Jack to the saddle. We’d barely be able to trot out of here without him slipping, and if Midnight got spooked, it would spell disaster. I could only hope Midnight would follow Nugget out. I couldn’t save the other ten head. And I couldn’t let them suffer, either. I did what I had to do as quickly as possible and mounted my horse.

  The evidence of the massacre would be obliterated soon enough.

  3

  Miranda

  Eason followed me into the elevator. I noticed his snicker and then tracked his line of sight down my legs. Seeing nothing to gawk at, I glowered. “What are you giggling about?”

  “You have something under your stockings.”

  Alone with Eason, I craned my neck and contorted my body. Finally, I found the pair of red panties bunched behind my thigh, beneath my pantyhose. My cheeks flamed. Quickly, I tried to figure out the best way to remove the offending lingerie before the doors opened. I wasn’t even sure how he’d seen it. There was only the slightest bit of fabric showing past the hem of my skirt.

  “Here, hold this.” I shoved my bag at him.

  Eason clutched my purse against his chest. His laughter increased with every second that passed. “Did you just pluck a pair off the floor?”

  A pointed scowl in his direction did nothing to deter him. “I was in a hurry. Hush.” Right as I was about to hike up my skirt to reach beneath the fabric and grab my misplaced thong, I noticed he hadn’t stopped staring. “Do you mind?”

  “Not at all. Do what you need to do.”

  “How about turn around?”

  His boisterous laugh died down to a half-hearted chuckle. “You realize you’re surrounded by mirrors, right? Plus, it’s not like I haven’t seen your legs or your ass before.”

  Ignoring him, I prayed to God no one got on between here and our floor, or they would be in for quite the show. The fabric slid up my legs with ease, and once I had my skirt bunched at the waist, I stuck my hand down the length of my thigh. No sooner had I nabbed my panties and freed them than the elevator dinged. Eason shifted in front of me, effectively blocking the view so I could straighten my clothing before moving into the office.

  Together, we stepped onto our floor, and he stopped to hand me my bag. I slid the strap onto my shoulder, still clutching the red satin in my fist. Eason caught my eyes and held them long enough for me to realize he was waiting for something. His palm was outstretched, and I darted my gaze back and forth between it and his stormy irises.

  There was no way in hell I’d give Eason McNabb my panties. “Are you insane?” I whispered, appalled by the thought.

  He leaned down and placed his mouth next to my ear. The warmth of his breath on my skin nearly caused me to forget my name. “You don’t have any pockets.” Like that somehow changed anything.

  I stared at him as though he’d lost his mind. “I’ll put
them in my purse.”

  The grey in his eyes danced with hints of blue, and he fought to hold back the smile that played on his lips. The spell between us was broken when the receptionist interrupted. “Good morning, Mr. McNabb. Ms. Adams.” She was new, and I couldn’t remember her name, but I needed to figure it out so I could ask her about the intoxicating perfume she had on. It was sinful in the best way.

  Eason reached out, gently touching her elbow to accompany his greeting. “How are you, Rachel?” Rachel!

  Her lids drooped in a lust-filled daze, and a hint of a glossy luster washed over her seductive, brown eyes. When her dark lashes fluttered, I managed to stifle my amusement, although not by much. Anticipating it, Eason elbowed me in the side when he removed his fingers from Rachel’s arm.

  “Ow,” I muttered while he flirted shamelessly with the newest member of the staff.

  Rachel squared her shoulders, and I noticed the handful of pink slips folded between her fingers. “Ms. Adams, I have several messages for you.” Nervous jitters caused her voice to shake.

  There was nothing for her to be apprehensive about. Then I realized, she was staring at Eason and talking to me. If it weren’t unprofessional, I would roll my eyes and tell her not to bother. However, I didn’t need to come off as catty, jealous, or possessive.

  “Thank you, Rachel.” I was no longer interested in her perfume, just escaping the possibility of drool dribbling down her chin if she didn’t close her mouth and stop gawking at Eason.

  I took the messages without glancing at them and left Eason to deal with his latest office crush. No sooner had I taken a step around Eason and Rachel than I was tackled by the office courier, Rhett. My hands flailed in an attempt to keep myself upright, and without missing a beat or even stalling his conversation with the receptionist, Eason’s arm snaked out and wrapped around my waist. He managed to keep me from falling. Embarrassingly, my panties and bag went flying. In my attempt to get Eason to release me so I could scurry across the floor, not only had I drawn attention to my thong, but Rhett had picked up the panties and my purse.

  With his finger holding out the satin, my underwear dangled in mid-air for everyone in the office to see. I could only imagine what ran through their heads about Eason and me on the elevator and why I didn’t have panties on…even though I did. I reached out to retrieve them from Rhett, but Eason was faster. He snatched them away without once glancing at Rhett, stuffed them into his pocket, and kept talking to Rachel.

  Demanding that he give them back would only cause more of a scene than the one that had already played out, so instead, I took my remaining things from Rhett. And before I left, I offered Eason a snide smirk, smoothed out my clothing, and then walked back to my office.

  It wasn’t until I sat down that I let my body relax. My bag slid down my arm to the floor, and I slouched into the leather chair. There was nothing ladylike about my posture, but sometimes, a girl simply needed to shake off the morning and start over.

  In my current state, I hadn’t heard the door open. “Do you always sit like that when your door’s closed?” The rumble of Eason’s voice jolted me upright and alert.

  “You know I don’t.”

  He crossed the threshold and took the only chair in front of my desk. My office wasn’t large to begin with; there was barely enough room for the furniture. Add Eason McNabb’s enormous body and larger-than-life personality, and it suddenly dwarfed the space. Most people were suffocated by his presence; I was comforted. Nothing about Eason intimidated me, although my co-workers all attributed that to my relationship with him. I couldn’t argue against it, since I’d known him prior to working for him.

  When he didn’t bother returning my panties voluntarily, I leaned across the desk and held out my palm. Eason stared at my wiggling fingers, seemingly oblivious to what I wanted.

  “Give them back, Eason.”

  His hand slinked into the pocket of his suit jacket with graceful ease. In what seemed like slow motion, he seductively dragged out the blood-red satin and lace. I was mesmerized by his movements. Eason exuded sexuality and masculinity. If I weren’t careful, I’d get swept up in the façade and forget what I was doing. And right now, I needed my underwear back. I grabbed them right before he used them as a slingshot.

  I shook my head in disbelief at his childish antics. “Seriously? Do men ever grow up?”

  He shrugged. “Not if we’re lucky.”

  “You have an uncanny ability to make people believe you’re all kinds of put together. When in reality, you’re no more mature than a five-year-old in a sandbox sticking his tongue out at a grody girl.”

  “Girls are still grody. I’m convinced they all have cooties.”

  His tone was playful, and his eyes danced with amusement. The man before me was an anomaly. At work and in the courtroom, he was no nonsense and all business. There was never a hair out of place on his head, his suits cost more than most people’s monthly mortgage, and no one had fingernails that perfect. Yet at home, or when it was just the two of us, Eason had a boyish charm, youthful banter, and could make the Grinch laugh.

  “Who are all the messages from?” He also had the attention span of a gnat if he wasn’t focused on a case.

  I glanced down at the stack I’d dropped onto my desk when I came in. “No clue. I haven’t looked.”

  His brow dipped into a V, and three prominent, vertical lines formed between them. “Miranda, we left here late last night. You shouldn’t have any messages at nine o’clock on Tuesday morning.” As quickly as he’d prevented my fall, and as fast as he’d stolen my thong, he retrieved the papers in question. One by one, he thumbed through them.

  I wouldn’t have been able to read them upside down even if he had shown them to me, which he didn’t. “Anything important?” I’d lost interest and directed my attention toward starting the day and my computer.

  “They’re all from Sarah.”

  “My sister?” I practically shrieked.

  “Do you know any other Sarahs?” He had gone from playful to annoyed. “Yes, your sister.”

  I couldn’t fathom what she needed on a Tuesday morning. I’d just talked to her last week. “It’s too early.”

  “Even with the time difference, I’m sure she’s been awake for a couple of hours with the kids.”

  I stopped, turned to face Eason, and blinked. Three times. “Not too early to be up. Too early to call. She’s like seven days ahead of schedule.”

  He tossed the slips of paper onto the desk. “Maybe it’s important.”

  “You think every call she places is important. Typically, all she wants to tell me is what flavor pie she made, or what color macaroni necklace one of the girls brought home.” It wasn’t that I didn’t care about my sister, regardless of how blasé I sounded. I refused to allow myself to get invested in Sarah, the kids, or anything else in Mason Belle. I couldn’t have them, and my heart ached whenever I allowed myself to remember everything I had lost.

  Eason leaned back in the chair in front of my desk—it wasn’t anywhere near as nice as the ones in his office—and crossed his arms over his chest. That didn’t bode well for me. Anytime he took that posture, I lost. It didn’t matter what the subject was; if Eason took a stance, I caved.

  “Fine. I’ll call her back at lunch.”

  His modelesque smirk made an appearance, though I knew he’d never give in that quickly. “You could call her now.”

  “I have work to do, Eason. Lunchtime will be fine.”

  He unfolded his arms, leaned forward, and then picked up the receiver on my phone. “I’m pretty tight with your boss. I’ll make sure he understands.”

  Sticking my tongue out at him wasn’t any more mature than him playing with my panties. I didn’t care; I did it anyhow. Then I grabbed the handset from him and pressed it to my ear while I dialed my sister’s number.

  Sarah answered on the second ring, and Eason sat in front of me, waiting. “Randi?” The way she said my name had me holding my br
eath. Any second now, she would knock the wind out of me. She’d managed to make two syllables into one, and panic lined her heavy breathing.

  Despite not wanting to find out the reason for her urgency, I exhaled and said, “Yeah.”

  “You need to come home.” Her voice cracked, and it wasn’t difficult to make out the muffled crying. “There’s been an accident.”

  The last time I’d heard those words, everything in my life changed in the course of a few weeks. But this time, today, this very moment, I didn’t have Austin to catch me or hold my hand through it. I wanted to stick my head in the sand and pretend I hadn’t heard the words she’d uttered.

  “Randi? Did you hear me?”

  I didn’t have the courage to ask who. There were only two people she would have called me for—Austin and Daddy. And I couldn’t handle either one. My chest rose in rapid succession, and shallow breaths left me in a dizzy fog.

  “Randi! Say something.”

  I couldn’t. Whatever lay on the other side of my response would decimate me. My eyes pooled with unshed tears, and then they flitted to Eason. The moment our gazes met, his juvenile demeanor morphed into the man made for the courtroom.

  “Miranda, what’s wrong?”

  The lump in my throat kept me from speaking, and I struggled to swallow. An intense pain lined my jaw and slithered down my neck. All I could do was shake my head. When the first tear fell, I managed to find my voice and croaked, “Who?” I wasn’t prepared for the answer, and in the split second I had to contemplate it, I didn’t know which one I’d rather it be.

  “Daddy.” Sarah had as hard of a time stringing together sentences as I did. “The wildfires...”

  “When?” I was nothing if not eloquent. I needed to slap myself. This wasn’t who I was. Randi was ill-prepared. Randi fell apart in emergencies. Randi couldn’t handle bad news. Miranda was not that girl.