Chapter 18
Chapter Eighteen
D allas Henhawk was in a black mood.
The storm and subsequent cleanup had made it impossible to deal with his personal situation. Added to that, the significant amount of snow meant they’d had to truck extra feed out to the pastures in order for the cattle to be properly fed. It was early for that, which meant they’d most likely blow through their own stores of hay earlier than anticipated and have to buy more from outside sources, which would be pricey.
It was going to be that kind of year.
And now Benton was telling him that Vivian was gone. Again.
What in the actual fuck?
He glared at his friend and snapped, “Where’d she go?” He sounded like an asshole but didn’t care.
Benton shrugged and moved toward him. “I don’t know, but she left this for you.” He handed Dallas a white envelope, which he grabbed, then turned away. He walked out of the office and headed for the front room because he needed to be alone when Vivian ripped his whole world apart.
Again.
Dallas read over the letter three times and then stared out the window. At least she hadn’t disappeared forever. But how could he fix all the things that needed fixing if she was gone? Why was she so hell-bent on doing this alone?
He was supposed to leave for Kentucky in a few days, but how could he do that when his life was a mess? This wasn’t just about Vivian anymore. They were both involved, and the sooner she realized he was as invested as she was, the better.
Carefully, he folded the letter and tucked it into the pocket of his jacket. He headed back to the office and Benton.
“I need a few days,” he announced as he entered.
Benton was at his desk and raised his head. “Yeah?” He sat back, arms behind his head. “This have something to do with my sister?”
“It does.”
“Take as much time as you need.”
“The horse auction in Kentucky, I don’t know if I can make it.”
“Don’t worry about the auction. I’ll take care of it on my own.”
Dallas took a step back. “I’ll need Griff to look in on my animals.”
“Done. Don’t worry about anything on this end.” Benton got to his feet and crossed the room. “I don’t know where Viv’s head is at or what’s going on with you two. What I do know is that I’m glad she’s back with us where she belongs, and that she’s come alive these last few weeks since the two of you have…” He cleared his throat and glanced away. “Well, since you two are, uh…” Sheepishly, he looked back at Dallas. “Doing whatever the hell it is you’re doing.”
“Eloquent as always, Bridgestone.” Dallas was silent for a few seconds, his thoughts scattered, his mind full of information he couldn’t share. Not yet, anyway. But one thing was clear. And it was a big thing. A big thing he’d been carrying around for years but hadn’t unpacked. A big thing he’d never admitted to himself before. And though he thought he should wait to say it, a part of him needed to hear it out loud. To share it with someone who knew how he worked. How his brain ticked.
“I love your sister.”
“No shit.”
He let out a long breath and shrugged. “I guess I always have. Our history isn’t easy, and we don’t always get along or say the right things. We fight like hell, make up, and then fight again, but I want to live my life with her, if she’s willing.” He took a step back, mind made up. “I’m bringing her home.”
Benton slowly nodded. “Okay. Go get her.”
He had a plan. Except… “I just need to figure out where in hell she is. She’s not answering my texts or any of the voicemails I’ve left."
“That’s a problem.” Bent frowned. “But maybe her pal Jack knows.”
“You got his number?”
“Yes.”
Dallas got the man’s contact information, then turned and headed outside. “I’ll be in touch.”
It was barely nine in the morning when Dallas strode out the door of the Bridgestone house. Less than thirty minutes later, he was on his way to Bozeman. He’d book a flight when he found out where she was. If that meant he was camping out at an airport until then, so be it.
It wasn’t much of a plan, but it was all he had.
Dallas made it to the airport before noon. He’d sent Jack several text messages and had called him twice; the man’s cell had gone straight to voicemail. He sat in his truck and brooded, and, after drumming his hands on his steering wheel for forty minutes, was about to explode when his cell pinged.
The number was unknown, but he answered straight away.
“Henhawk,” he said roughly.
“This is Jack.”
“I need to know where Vivian is.” He cut to the chase, and when there was a pause on the other end of the line, he frowned. “I don’t have time to be nice or gentleman-like. I’m sitting in the parking lot of an airport, ready to fly anywhere. I just need to know where I’m going.”
“I appreciate your enthusiasm, but?—”
“It’s not enthusiasm,” he interrupted the man. That thin band of control inside was about to break. “It’s a need. I can’t explain it any other way. I have to make things right with Vivian.”
“I could point out that you’ve had fifteen years to make things right.”
“You’re not wrong.” Dallas had to take a moment and clamp down on the anger and frustration he felt. He didn’t have time for this shit. This back-and-forth. “I get that you’re protective of her. Hell, I’m glad she has you in her corner. But I’m hoping you know her well enough to know that she needs someone. This time it needs to be me.”
Jack was quiet when he spoke. “She means the world to me. I love her like she’s family.”
“I know. I feel the same, and it’s time I let her know.”
“She’s probably going to kill me, but I’m worried about her, and you’re right. She shouldn’t be alone,” Jack replied softly. “She’s in Louisiana. A small town called Belle Adair, staying at a B and B outside of town.”
Dallas ended the call before Jack was done speaking. He strode into the airport and booked a flight, then sidled up to a bar to wait. He ordered whatever was on tap and kept his head down. He wasn’t in the mood to socialize, and when the bartender brought him a large, frosty mug, he settled in. The game was on, basketball, and though his eyes were trained on the screen, he wasn’t paying attention. How could he? His entire world had just imploded, and he had no idea what to do about it.
Would he make things worse by following her to Louisiana? Would that push her away forever?
“You look like you’re carrying a load.” The soft feminine voice was beside him, but Dallas didn’t bother to engage. He kept his gaze averted and hoped like hell the woman would leave him alone.
“I could help ease some of that tension.”
Her voice practically purred, and he grimaced. Christ. He didn’t have time for this. Dallas cocked his head to the side. The woman was a knockout. A tall, blonde goddess with hair that hung in waves to her ass, and a body that didn’t quit. Her mouth was a pouty dream that glistened with a thick coat of gloss, and her expertly made-up eyes were dark brown. They dominated her face and, at the moment, were focused solely on him.
The business suit didn’t match the rest of her, but who was he to judge?
She smiled at him, a slow, practiced kind of thing, and slid onto the stool beside him. She ordered a white wine and leaned closer.
“I’m on a three-hour layover. Where are you headed?”
He didn’t answer, but turned back to the game.
She took a sip from her wineglass. “So, you like to hang out in bars at the airport for fun?”
Annoyed, he glanced at her. “I’m not the guy you want to make small talk with.”
“Maybe it’s not small talk I’m after.” When he didn’t respond, she shrugged and murmured. “Someone’s got a situation brewing.” She pushed her wineglass forward to give herself more room and rested her elbows on the bar, linking her hands together so she could rest her chin on top. “I’m a good listener if that means anything.”
Pissed that his space had been invaded, he all but growled. “Look, lady, I’m not in the mood for your bullshit or conversation. If you’re a sex worker, I’m not looking, and I sure as hell ain’t paying. No offense.” He sounded like a sarcastic asshole, but didn’t care.
“Honey, you don’t look like the kind of man who’s ever paid for it.” Her smile widened. “Which is good, because I’m not offering. You’re obviously having some woman issues, and since we have all this time to kill, I thought I could be of some help, is all.”
“I don’t need help.” He frowned and stared up at the television screen. What a crock of shit that was.
“That look on your face tells me different.” She reached for her wine again. “Let me guess. There’s a woman out there who means a lot to you, but you’ve never had the balls to let her know, or something’s happened.” She gave him a wicked side-eye. “Or both. Now you’re behind the eight ball and running to catch up.” She paused. “How am I doing so far?”
He glanced her way once more, but said nothing. She shrugged. “You’re a loner. It’s written all over you. And loners don’t know how to deal with emotions.”
“Yeah, well, she’s a loner too.”
“Shoot.” The lady frowned. “Then you are in what I like to call a conundrum. That makes things more difficult. Usually, two people who are the same deal with things in a similar manner. And I’m going to go out on a limb and guess the two of you haven’t dealt with things in a healthy way.” She winked. “On account of the loner thing.”
“You might be right about that.”
“What’s changed?”
Shit, was he really going to unload on a total stranger? Dallas sat a bit straighter and considered his answer. But it was simple, really.
“We have.”
“Change is good. It signals a maturity and a willingness to admit mistakes.”
Dallas finished his mug and signaled for another. He looked at the woman. “You ready for another?”
“If you’re buying.”
He had the bartender bring her another wine.
“This woman,” she said, running her crimson-tipped fingers along the edge of her wineglass. “Does she know you’re coming for her?”
“No,” he admitted. “At least, I don’t think so.” He supposed Jack could have given her a heads-up, something he hadn’t thought of.
“A word of advice?”
“Why stop now?” he replied with a half grin.
“It must be a fierce woman to capture the heart of a man like you. I’m picturing someone who runs deep and hot. If she doesn’t know you’re coming, her first reaction might be to push back. You need to get ahead of it. Let her know you’re on your way so she has time to prepare. Time to deal with whatever it is that’s keeping you two apart.”
He considered that and realized this woman was probably right. But there was a problem.
“I’ve called her cell, but she’s not picking up, and she hasn’t read any of my text messages.”
Her eyes softened. “Then you’ve done all you can do.” She held up her glass. “I wish you well. It’s a good man who can admit he’s done a woman wrong. And an even better one willing to fix it.”
“I’m not a good man,” he replied, sliding off his seat when he heard his flight called.
“No,” she said with a wry grin. “I don’t suppose you are.”
“But I’m trying to be.”
“Good luck.”
He gave a nod and headed for his gate, phone out so that he could book a rental when he landed. By the time he was seated, his too-long legs damn near up to his chin, he finally relaxed a bit.
He had a truck waiting for him. Benton had forwarded the information on the only B and B in Belle Adair, and he should land around three o’clock local time. He figured by the time he got his rental and was on the road, he’d be in Belle Adair no later than six o’clock.
He had no plan beyond that.
Dallas stared out the window as they taxied down the runway and frowned. The no-plan thing might bite him in the ass, but it was all he had.
He hoped like hell it was enough.