Chapter 57
Chapter fifty-seven
Ain’t Even Met You Yet
Maverick
Itried calling Cheyenne back. Again. And again. And again.
But it was no use. I couldn’t keep a signal long enough to get the phone to ring. I paced back and forth, uncaring of the rain pelting down on me, soaking me to the bone.
Ryder frowned from his spot by the broken fence as I stalked for him. “You get ahold of her?” He had to shout over the wind and rolling thunder.
I shook my head. “I can’t get a fuckin’ signal.”
“Shit…” His frown deepened as he glanced between me and the fence.
What should have been a relatively easy fix had quickly turned to shit with the rain and mud.
Not to mention, it was cold, wet, and so slippery that Ryder and I spent more time trying not to fall or get stuck in the mud than actually repairing the fence.
“What do you wanna do?” Ryder asked.
I blew out a breath and wiped a hand down my face, but it did little to rid it of water. My hat might as well be useless at this point. “I don’t fuckin’ know,” I growled.
Had her water broke? Was she okay? God, I hated that I wasn’t there for her.
I knew it. I just fuckin’ knew something bad was going to happen. I’d felt it. Felt it like I’d felt this storm brewing for days now. But I’d never thought this would’ve taken us as long as it had.
“We gotta finish this fence or else we run the risk of losin’ the herd…
but I need to get back to her… Fuck.” I fisted my hands at my sides—well, tried—and instantly regretted it.
Pain speared through my right hand. I glared down at the stupid soft cast. I’d shattered most of my hand from my fight against the four by four, and had been scheduled for surgery a week later.
It’d only been about three weeks since then.
Ryder chewed his bottom lip, like he was mulling something over in his mind. “You go back,” he finally said.
“This ain’t a one-man job though.” I hated the idea of leaving him, but the thought of Cheyenne home alone, in this weather, and in labor… My heart raced in my chest, fear gripping it like a vice.
“You gotta get back to her. Take my truck, get ahold of Cash, and send him back to pick me up. I can fix this up enough so that no cows go through it ‘til we can do somethin’ more permanent. You be there for your girl.”
“You sure?” I asked.
He nodded. “Yes. Now go, before this weather gets any shittier.” He tossed me the keys and I made my way for the truck. Excitement mingled with the fear and unease in my heart.
This was it. She was coming and after today, nothing would be the same. I’d be a father. The thought still rocked me to my very core.
I’m comin’, Chey.
…except I couldn’t. Not as I put the truck in gear and the tires started spinning. Fuck. I tried to put it in reverse, but same thing. I slammed the car in park and opened my door to find Ryder tripping over himself trying to come over and help.
“It’s this mud. Everythin’s so slick. Here, let’s see if we can drag somethin’ over for the tires to catch on,” he offered.
It’s like everything we did was doomed to fail—each idea going more poorly than the last. My nerves were frayed, my patience shot to shit.
I’d ripped off my cast in my frustration.
It was soaked and caked in mud anyway, and I had no doubt after all the work I’d been doing, the way I couldn’t stop flexing and fisting my fingers, I’d done serious damage.
Doctor was gonna be pissed... But the pain was but a whisper compared to the panic pumping through my veins.
The only thought driving me forward was getting to Cheyenne. Of making it back there.
Was the storm as bad where she was as it was out here? Was she okay? How was the pain? Had she gotten to the hospital? Fear spiked in me. How had she gotten to the hospital?
“Fuck it,” I said, damn near throwing my phone when I glanced at the time. We’d spent close to another two hours trying to get out of this mess and still weren’t any closer to getting out of there. “I’m walkin’.”
Ryder nodded. “I’m coming with you.”
“What about the fence?”
Ryder waved it off dismissively as he came to my side. “Fuck it. I ain’t lettin’ you walk back in this alone. We’ll find whatever cows get out later. This is more important. Your daughter is more important.”
Hope and worry warred in my heart. But with a determined nod of my head, I aimed in the direction of home.