Chapter 28 Hattie
HATTIE
“Are you sure?” Mesa asks, focusing intently on the road as she drives us out of town.
In hindsight, I probably should have driven my own vehicle and followed behind her so I’d have an easy way to get back home.
But I got a strange gut feeling when I was on the phone with Heston.
The fact that he was calling me in the first place was worrying.
He’s not big on phone calls unless they’re unavoidably necessary.
I didn’t want to waste time thinking things through, so we jumped into her car and quickly left my house.
“I’m positive,” I answer. “Something was wrong.”
“Tripp’s not answering,” Mesa says, voice thick with emotion. “God, I swear these boys are cursed. They find their way into the worst shit. Every time one of them doesn’t answer, or something feels off, I’m automatically on high alert.”
“I’m sure it’s just—” I’m cut off by the sound of her phone ringing. I lift it from her cupholder and flash the screen toward her. “It’s Tripp.”
I swipe across the screen and hold the phone between us on speaker.
Mesa leans toward the phone. “Hello?”
“Hi, Mace.” We both smile, hearing the quintessential brightness in his voice. “I was in the shower, sorry. What’s up? I thought you had book club tonight.”
“We never made it to the library,” Mesa explains. “I was with Hattie when Heston called her. Have you heard from him or anyone over there? Hattie got the idea that maybe something was wrong.”
Tripp’s tone changes immediately. “Is Hattie with you?”
“I’m here,” I chime in.
“He called you?”
I know it sounds unlikely, which only makes the pit in my stomach feel heavier. “Yes,” I confirm. “Not long ago.”
“I see.” Tripp pauses for a moment, thinking. “And what did he say?”
“I’ll be honest, he didn’t even say a word. But I could hear him breathing. I asked if he was alright, and then the line cut out.”
“Where are you, Mesa?” Tripp asks. There’s a ruffling coming from his end of the call, followed by the distinct sound of truck keys.
“We’re almost to the ranch,” Mesa answers.
He lets out an exasperated sigh. “Don’t speed, okay? Just drive carefully.”
“Tripp,” I say, cutting back in. “Have you talked to him at all? I mean, I don’t want to make everyone freak out, but the way he sounded . . . I’ve heard him like that—”
“I’m going to figure it out, Hattie. I promise. He probably just got drunk or something,” Tripp suggests with a laugh that isn’t very convincing. “Hey, Gage is calling me. I’ll meet y’all there.”
Right. Maybe he’s drunk.
Or maybe he’s stuck out in the middle of nowhere, having a heart attack.
It’s fine.
The line clicks, and I feel the beginnings of a thunderous headache building behind my eyes.
Mesa and I remain quiet as she passes through the gate and pulls up the lane several minutes later. I can tell that she’s looking for something out of the ordinary to pop out from behind a tree at any moment, though. Just like I am.
When I see both Savannah’s SUV and Warren’s truck parked next to the bunkhouse, I start to panic. A rumbling sound comes from behind us, and Mesa peeks in the rearview mirror.
“And he tells me not to speed?” Mesa scoffs.
Tripp pulls his Bronco in next to us in front of the bunkhouse. I expect to see people rushing out the door in a panic, but everything is silent aside from the vehicle doors closing. Tripp comes around Mesa’s car, and instead of greeting her like usual, he stops in front of me.
“I don’t like that look on your face,” I say.
“I talked to Gage,” he says, “Heston’s out in one of the pastures.”
“Which one?” I ask. “Where?”
Tripp is still holding his mouth a little tight, and he flicks his gaze over to Mesa too quickly for me to interpret it as anything but edgy. I look around curiously. Then, back to Tripp.
I stand up straight when a distant voice rings through the air. It sounds like Savannah, but I can’t be sure because she’s just far enough away to sound muffled. She calls out again, but I’m listening more carefully this time.
“Lucky! Where are you, girl? Lucky!”
“Hattie—” Tripp starts, but I hold a finger up to silence him and close my eyes.
Another faraway voice, this time coming from the opposite direction, calls out. “Lucky?”
The pit that’s been in my stomach finally drops with a sickening wave of nausea. The phone call with Heston suddenly makes sense, and my shoulders drop, remembering how choked he sounded. My vision blurs a little, but Mesa takes my hand and squeezes.
Despite feeling scared, I level my chin. “How long have they been looking for her?” The calm in my voice surprises me, but I suppose years of training in emergent situations has its perks.
“I’m not sure,” Tripp replies. “I don’t think it’s been very long.”
“We should find out which spots they’ve already checked,” Mesa suggests.
“Yeah,” Tripp agrees with a nod. “That’s a good starting point.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Warren stepping out of the maternity barn with Savannah close behind him. She picks up to a jog until their hands are joined, and they walk together, carefully scanning the edge of the tree line.
There’s no time to get emotional over it right now, but the amount of reliable support around every corner on this ranch is not lost on me. I’ve never been more grateful for it than I am right now.
I hug my arms around my middle. “She wouldn’t just run off,” I whisper to myself in disbelief.
My head snaps up when I hear a truck approaching from the ditch road behind the barn. “Let me know what you find out,” I say before dropping Mesa’s hand and walking toward the sound.
I wish the sky weren’t turning the bruised-purple color that comes just before nightfall. The shadows pooling around the buildings are growing darker by the minute.
My steps slow when I realize the sound I’d heard was the feed truck. Granger gets out of the driver’s side, and Heston isn’t with him.
“Anything?” I call out.
He doesn’t look surprised to see me. His mouth is pulled tight, which is uncharacteristic for him, as he shakes his head.
“What happened?” I whisper, finally stopping in front of him.
“I have no idea,” he admits sadly. “I was hanging out in my room when Gage hauled me to my feet and told me to start looking.”
I scrunch my brows. “Have you checked the tack room? That door shuts on its own sometimes.”
“Yeah, I looked there first.”
“Well, what about all of the round bale feeders? I’ve seen her playing in one more than once before.” Although she was a puppy at the time. She’s less playful and more worried about helping Heston these days.
He nods.
“Okay, let me think.” I take a shallow breath and nervously cover the front of my neck with my palm.
“Think. think.” She sticks to him like glue, so I can’t imagine how she would have ended up separated from Heston at all.
On the rare occasion that it’s happened before, he simply whistles, and she comes running back.
I look down and stare at the ground until another idea comes to me.
“The well house. Have you checked there?”
“I don’t know where there’s a well house around here,” Granger says, confused.
“It’s on the other side of the fence in the north pasture. Technically, I think some other guy owns that land. Heston told me she wandered over to it once to get a drink from the pipe that drips in there.”
He quirks a brow and doesn’t seem convinced that it’s a strong lead. “She wandered off to it once?”
“Let’s just check, okay? Come on, I’m riding with you. If she’s not there, you can take me to Heston.”