Leave Me Again (Riverbank Ranch #1)

Chapter 1

Riley

“I will not run out of gas today!” I shout to the universe, my windows down, the cool night air caressing my cheeks.

My hands grip the steering wheel as if my life depends on how tightly I hold on—because it does.

It’s dark, foggy, and even though I’ve driven this desolate Tennessee highway hundreds of times, it’s been years since I drove it at night.

Never with the fuel light on either, but it’s fine, everything is fine. I will not run out of gas today.

The drive here from college was uneventful, easy-going, and straightforward. By some miracle, I avoided traffic in most places, and now, I’m about thirty minutes from home, ten from the next gas station.

I can make it there. I know I can.

The jeep’s familiar hum turns into a violent shudder in the blink of an eye.

The fuck?

I press the gas—nothing but an eerie silence and my thoughts going a million miles per hour.

“No, no, no.” Panic sets in as the steering wheel goes suspiciously stiff, forcing me to use all my strength to wrestle it toward the shoulder. Apparently, I can’t live off delusion and wishful thinking.

I hit the brake pedal, even if it’s heavy and hard to push, and I eventually come to a stop.

“Well, shit. I guess I did run out of gas.” I try to turn it on, just in case I’m wrong and this is just some sick joke, but it’s futile.

No go. Zip. Zilch. Nada.

It’s okay. Everything will be fine.

I grab my phone to text Lilly, even though I know, deep down, she’s going to be pissed at me for A) not telling her I was coming and B) running out of gas, as if I did it on purpose.

Six Ps, Riley. Proper Prior Planning Prevents Poor Performance, she would say all the time, echoing the wise words of our father—who’s not here anymore, making my older sister my parent by default, even if I’m twenty-two fucking years old.

It doesn’t even matter, though, because my phone is dead. And the one thing I left behind? Yup, you guessed it: my charger.

“Hello, universe? Are you there? Because it sure as hell doesn’t feel like it!”

I step out for reasons unknown, even to myself. If I’m going to be stranded here, I want to at least see the stars.

And stars, I see.

A sky full of them. Constellations speak to everyone who dares listen, even me right now. They tell me to stay calm, to breathe, and remind me that everything happens for a reason, even if I don’t know what that is right now.

I climb on the top of the Jeep, lie on the roof, and stare at them in all their bright, mystical glory. It’s funny how, from the outside, they look so diminutive and restful when we know they’re massive, luminous spheres generating heat and light so, so far away.

“Shine bright, big little friends, and send some luck my way, please,” I beg.

If I’m begging someone, anyone, it should be something or someone above to get me out of this situation.

Almost like they materialized out of thin air, two bright lights illuminate the dark road, making me jolt and sit straight.

See? I knew it. Delusion, wishful thinking, and manifestation.

“Thank you, mighty stars,” I whisper into the air, letting the wind carry my words to whoever they belong to. In the distance, I see what I prayed for—a car.

A car that’s going fast, but a car, nonetheless. I wave my arms high while shouting, “Hey!” as if they could hear me, to let it be known I’m here and I need help. Now, please stop, and don’t be a serial killer.

Please.

Double please.

The car… Oh no, not a car. A truck, a brand new one by the looks of it, slows down enough for me to notice the man sitting in the driver’s seat, but he passes me, not stopping.

Man, what the fuck?

Except, he does stop, a few feet or yards or whatever that distance is away. Oh, thank God. I hop down as he backs up onto the shoulder in front of my jeep.

Maybe he’s not a serial killer but a hard-working man in Tennessee ready to rescue me. And if luck is on my side, he’ll have extra fuel in that fancy truck of his.

“Hi! Thank you so much for stopping,” I say to the man strolling my way with a jean jacket framing a strong torso, wranglers showing the outline of his long, thick legs, and a cowboy hat.

Well, hellooooo, cowboy.

“What’s going on?” he asks without an ounce of southern twang in his tone.

Huh? Interesting.

“Well, I ran out of gas.” I shrug. What else am I going to do? That’s the honest truth. “And my phone is out of battery, and I was wondering if maybe you had extra fuel, or if maybe you could take me to get extra fuel? I can pay!” Barely, but I offer either way.

He eyes me up and down, the color of his irises hidden behind the brim of his cowboy hat, though nothing could hide their intensity. Shivers run down my spine, but it’s too late now.

And here we are.

“You know, staring is considered bad manners where I’m from,” I reply, trying to ease the situation and hiding the way he’s affecting me with just a look.

Handsome cowboy over here shakes himself to focus and replies, “I wasn’t staring.”

Yeah, right. “Could’ve fooled me.” I shrug.

“I was assessing.”

Assessing?

“Assessing what?” I ask, confused. “I told you I ran out of gas. Nothing else to assess. It happens.”

He pinches the bridge of his nose. He’s certainly in a bad mood for sure, but how is that my fault? I didn’t ask him to stop.

Or maybe I manifested him here.

Next time, stars, would you send me a nice Good Samaritan? Thanks in advance.

“I was assessing how someone as loud and witty as you ran out of gas,” he adds. Who pissed in his cereal?

At least he called me witty. “And here I thought you were just admiring me.” I smirk, trying to lighten the mood.

He hesitates for a second before letting out what sounds like a chuckle. “Nope.”

I smile wide, even if he’s not. I’m having too much fun for someone depending on him to do me a solid. “You hesitated, though.”

“Is your dashboard broken?” he asks, shifting his gaze to Henry—my Jeep—after another short chuckle, though one hundred percent ignoring me. At least I got some sort of sound out of him.

“Mm, no. Why?”

“Did it not show you were running low on fuel?”

I cross my arms over my chest. “Well, yes, but I thought I could make it to my next stop before running out.”

He scoffs. “You were wrong.”

No shit, Sherlock. “I know,” I say with a smirk. “Nothing I can do now, though.”

He chews on either tobacco or his cheek; I can’t tell with the distance between us. He eventually nods. “I don’t have any fuel with me, but we can go get some.”

“Absolutely! Let me grab my purse.” Riley, is this a good idea? Going with a complete stranger in his truck to a gas station? Letting go of the little bit of control I have in this situation? If I get in his truck, it’s all—

“As much as I don’t want to leave a woman alone on the side of the road, I also don’t want you to feel unsafe with me.

You don’t know me. What if you get in your Jeep, lock the doors, and let me come back?

I’ll be back in about twenty minutes.” He must have a wife at home or sisters or something.

Or maybe it’s the fact that he’s older, and men out of college gain maturity and insight and, I don’t know, common decency?

Fair. That’s fair.

“Yeah, that sounds good, but please come back. It’s late, and I just want my bed.”

He snickers—deep, throaty, the sound reaching every receptor in my body.

Damn.

“Regular or premium?” It’s not until he clears his throat that I realize I’ve been staring at what I can see of his features.

“Um, regular is fine.”

He’s the one nodding now. “I’ll be back.”

He tips his hat, strolling away without muttering a word. He opens the door to his truck, but, before stepping in, he says, “Get in your Jeep for me, miss, and lock the doors.”

Well, shit.

Yes, sir.

Yup, I’ll get in.

I’ll do whatever you want me to do. None of this I say out loud, doing as he asked instead.

Time slips through my fingers after he leaves. I blink, and he’s back with a five-gallon jug.

Okay, universe, I see you.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you! I could kiss you right now,” I all but shout after lowering my window, but it only earns me a chuckle. He goes straight to putting the gas in my Jeep, and then he stands next to me.

This close, I can see his features.

Like, really see them.

Intense onyx eyes, full, salt and pepper beard framing the most flawless artistic creation that is his straight square jaw.

There are a few dots on his nose, right below his eyes, that might be two freckles, but it’s hard to tell in the darkness.

I can’t keep my eyes off him, though, and he knows it.

“Turn it on for me.”

I clear my throat. “Wh-what?” Riley, girl, get it together.

“Start the Jeep for me, will you?”

“Yes, sir,” I say, shocking him and me in the process. Zero chill and zero control; it’s like I haven’t gotten laid in forever when my libido and I both know, just yesterday, I was having a good time.

I turn the key, and Henry comes to life. Thank you, thank you, thank you, universe, law of attraction, serendipity, and this kind stranger. “Thank you so much,” I say with a big smile on my face. “What do I owe you?”

He tsks. “Don’t sweat it. Just fill it up at the next gas station and stay safe out there, yeah?”

“Are you sure?”

He hums, tapping my door and leaving me breathless as he gets in his truck.

Well, thank you, kind stranger. I was so distracted by his act of kindness, I missed him leaving, and I didn’t even get his name. Not that it matters; it’s not like I’ll ever see him again.

I hang out from my window, waving at him, shouting, “Thank you!” But he leaves without reservation. I shake out of my stupor and get going too. I put gas in the jeep at the next gas station before making it to my destination.

Riverbank Ranch in East Dove Tennessee, has been part of my family since my great-granddaddy and grandmamie's parents got into a feud over a piece of land. Nobody could find the paperwork to figure out who it belonged to, and then, poof, they started arguing. But then, their children fell in love, and it didn’t matter anymore.

The Rivers and the Banks could have one ranch for all, so Riverbank was born.

We each have a small cabin on the farm, my two sisters and I, so I drive straight to mine and head inside. I don’t have it in me to find Lilly tonight and explain to her why I’m showing up unannounced two months earlier than I was supposed to.

The one good thing about having the most remote cabin is there's plenty of space. There is one cabin nearby, but it's always vacant, unless there’s a visitor or something, and tonight, that space is protecting me from my eldest sister's wrath.