Chapter Three #2
Outside, the sun was already baking the asphalt, promising another punishing day on the farm. Some days it wore him down. But he wouldn’t trade it for the world. Not even for a woman.
****
Aftyn laughed as Hud Anderson flirted with her, his light honey-amber eyes crinkling at the corners. Another gorgeous cowboy. His dark hair curled slightly at the nape of his neck, the silver threading through his sideburns only adding to his rugged appeal.
She remembered the first morning he’d walked in.
She’d been instantly struck by his looks, but it was the gun on his hip, the badge on his belt, and the Kevlar vest with Livestock Agent embroidered in white that had really caught her attention.
There was something about a man who put himself between danger and the people who needed protecting.
Ranchers, farmers, ordinary folks trying to make a living.
She knew the job was dangerous, and maybe that was part of the appeal.
The diner hummed around her, thick with the smell of bacon and fresh coffee, but her thoughts kept drifting back to Cole.
She glanced toward the booth by the window where he now sat with two other men, Cliff’s empty mug the only evidence he’d been there. Morning sunlight striped the table in gold through the blinds, and Barney the busboy was already clearing it, grinning at something one of them said.
“Let me know if you need anything else, Hud.”
“Sure will, darlin’.” He touched the brim of his Stetson.
Aftyn lifted a carafe of dark, steaming coffee and navigated between the crowded tables toward Cole.
She pulled her pad from her apron pocket; pencil tucked behind her ear.
When his eyes met hers, those moss-green eyes that seemed to see right through her, her heart stuttered and she nearly caught her hip on a chair.
She steadied herself with a deep breath that filled her lungs with the scent of fresh-baked biscuits.
“Coffee?”
“I’m good, thanks,” Cole said, his voice deep and smooth as whiskey. She bit her lip to keep from telling him she’d bet he was.
“I’ll take a cup,” one of the others said, pushing forward a white ceramic mug.
She studied the newcomers as she poured, the coffee splashing dark against the porcelain. They had to be brothers. Same chiseled jaw, same thick dark hair, same moss-green eyes fringed with lashes any woman would envy. She filled their cups to within an inch of the brim without spilling a drop.
“My brothers, Seth and Ethan,” Cole said. “Guys, this is Aftyn Hutchins.”
“Nice to meet you,” they said, both nodding.
“You too. What can I get you?”
They ordered their usuals and she headed back to the kitchen, handing the tickets to Owen, whose forehead glistened with sweat from the grill.
She sank onto the cracked vinyl stool in the corner, easing the weight off her feet.
The wall clock, its face yellowed with age, read only eight a.m. She sighed; the sound lost under the sizzle of the grill and the clatter of dishes.
Another long day in a string of endless ones.
****
Cole watched her until she disappeared into the kitchen, her ponytail swinging with each step.
“She’s new,” Ethan said, fingers wrapping around his mug as steam curled up from the black coffee.
“Two or three weeks, I think.” Cole chuckled and recounted their first meeting, her wide-eyed panic as she sprinted across the field. The brothers erupted in laughter that turned a few heads in the diner.
“Surprised old Masher didn’t catch her,” Seth said. “That steer doesn’t like anyone in his territory.”
“Damn lucky,” Cole muttered, absently tracing a water ring on the tabletop.
“Bet she was hauling ass,” Ethan added.
Cole shook his head, remembering the flash of her terrified face. “Lucky I was out mending fence.”
“Yeah.” Seth’s lips curved into a knowing smirk. “She’s pretty though.”
“I’ll tell Ryan you said that,” Cole shot back with a grin.
Seth chuckled. “That woman knows she’s got nothing to worry about.”
“We all know that.” Cole leaned back and the booth squeaked in protest. “How’s it going with you two?”
“Great.” Seth’s face softened, the crease between his brows smoothing out.
“So, when’s the wedding?” Ethan asked, tapping his spoon against his mug.
“She can’t decide between summer or winter.” Seth sighed.
“Let her have her day,” Cole said.
“Oh, I will. Whatever she wants.” Seth’s voice held the quiet surrender of a man deeply in love.
Lanie arrived with Seth and Ethan’s plates, golden pancakes swimming in maple syrup, bacon strips curled at the edges.
Cole slid from the booth, nodded to his brothers, and Ethan shifted into the vacated seat.
Cole scanned the diner one last time for Aftyn, then pushed through the door into heat that hit him like a furnace blast.
Gravel crunched under his boots as he crossed to his dusty Silverado. The leather seat scorched through his jeans. The engine rumbled to life beneath his hands.
As the truck ate up the blacktop, fence posts blurring past, Aftyn’s blue eyes and smile flickered in his mind like a mirage.
“Damn,” he muttered, knuckles whitening on the wheel. Just some time with her. No strings.
****
Aftyn trudged up the metal stairs, fumbled with her keys, and shoved through the door, slamming it behind her with a satisfying bang that echoed her frustration. She made it as far as the sofa before collapsing, kicking off her sneakers and letting out a long, ragged sigh.
“What were you thinking?” she muttered, massaging her legs.
She wasn’t unaccustomed to being on her feet. Nursing had seen to that. But the diner was different. It never stopped, and some days neither did she.
She’d forgotten how bad her feet could scream.
Back in college she’d balanced two serving jobs, rushing between a breakfast shift and a dinner service at an Italian place, all to put herself through school while supporting Avery.
Now she wanted to strangle her ungrateful sister.
The betrayal still stung like a fresh cut.
Avery was out there somewhere, she was certain of it, hiding in Clifton or just beyond its limits.
The cash she’d stolen would be dwindling by now.
The police had found no activity on Judd’s accounts.
He’d always kept a lot of cash, though. They were burning through it, and it wouldn’t last forever.
When it ran out, one of them would have to work, and she knew which one that would be. She needed to find her sister.
“Just how do you intend to find that out?” she muttered, blowing a strand of limp hair from her eyes. “Go into every single store?”
She sat up. Yes. That’s exactly what she’d do this weekend. She had a photo of Avery on her phone, and she could show it to every shopkeeper in town.
With that settled, she pushed herself up from the sofa, turned the locks on the door, and limped toward the bathroom.
She planned on soaking in steaming water until her skin pruned, then microwaving something from the freezer and losing herself in mindless television.
She couldn’t go anywhere without a car, and her feet couldn’t handle another step beyond these walls anyway, though the persistent ache had improved.
The first two weeks at the diner had been excruciating.
By the third, it had dulled to a manageable throb.
In the bathroom she twisted the faucet until hot water hissed and the mirror began to fog.
Steam curled around her as she swept her hair into a messy bun, then peeled off her clothes, the grease-stained apron and thin T-shirt smelling of fryer oil and coffee.
Every garment felt heavy, clinging to her skin like yesterday’s regrets.
She gathered them into a heap and carried them down the hall to the stackable washer and dryer tucked behind bifold doors.
She’d wash away the day’s grime while the TV murmured in the background, crime-show reruns filling the quiet, every unsolved case a silent prayer that she’d find her sister before the trail went cold.
When Saturday dawned, she was already awake. She ate a sparse breakfast, tucked her phone into her purse, and tried not to look at her sister’s bright smile too long. It made her fists clench.
She slung her purse over her shoulder, pocketed her keys, and stepped into the merciless heat, the sun a pale orb rising over a cloudless sky. Thank God her feet were better. She clicked the lock behind her and jogged down the metal stairs.
It wasn’t yet nine, but the air already shimmered off the pavement. She longed for autumn, any season but this. At the bottom of the steps, she cut through the narrow alleyway and slipped onto the sidewalk.
Her plan was simple. Work every storefront on both sides of the street, scanning faces and asking questions until something broke through the silence surrounding her sister’s disappearance. Then circle back and tackle the next block.
****
Cole maneuvered his pickup into the lot at The Feed Store and climbed out, squinting against the glare.
The scent of leather, hay, and spilled grain greeted him as he pushed through the door.
Sunshine spilled through high windows, spotlighting rows of bridles, lead ropes, and reins hung on a worn pegboard wall.
He spotted Wyatt and Olivia Stone by the saddle racks, Liv’s black hair catching the light, Wyatt standing easy and broad-shouldered beside her.
“Hey, you two.”
“Cole!” Liv swept him into a quick hug.
He winked at Wyatt over her shoulder. “Your wife’s hugging me.”
“Like you’re the only one.” Wyatt rolled his eyes. “She hugs every guy she sees.”
“That’s not true.” Liv pulled back with a playful look. “Only the ones I know.”
“I think she got you there.”
“She’s got me wherever she wants me.” Wyatt threw an arm around her shoulders. “How are you doing, Cole?”
“Busy as ever. You two holding up okay?”
Liv nodded. “We needed a change of scenery. Emma’s got the kids today so we’re free to roam.”