Chapter 2
Chapter Two
Zane
I scowled at the thick cloud of steam pouring out from under the hood of my truck, wondering what I ever did to deserve this never-ending streak of bad luck that stuck to me like prickly burrs.
Last time I checked, I was still a decent human being.
Helpful to my neighbors and fellow ranchers.
Considerate and respectful of the elderly.
Nice to kids, gentle with animals, and a hard worker—traits my mother ingrained in me at a young age and made sure I’d helped pass along to my brother and sister as they grew up.
After all, I was the oldest, and that, coupled with the lack of a father figure, thrust me into the role of the responsible one early in life.
Responsible.
A short, unamused laugh huffed past my lips at the thought as I waved my cowboy hat through the dense fog clouding my view.
If anything, I felt extremely irresponsible right now for trusting that my younger brother had topped off the coolant like I’d asked after this thing almost overheated on me yesterday.
That’s what I got for putting faith in people.
Nothing good ever came from it, so much so that I wasn’t even sure why I bothered anymore.
With the steam mostly cleared, I set my hat off to the side and headed back to the cab in search of something I could use as a barrier between my hand and the hot gasket.
I checked my cell phone for the umpteenth time, praying for just one tiny bar of signal and throwing it to the dashboard when none magically appeared.
Go figure my unlucky streak would have me break down in the middle of nowhere.
I rummaged under the seats and in the console, coming up empty handed, and slammed the door shut with an exasperated growl.
Stomping back to the front of my truck, I muttered a colorful string of curses as I ripped my T-shirt over my head and wrapped it around my palm before reaching for the gasket.
The hot midday sun, relentless on my exposed shoulders, sent a trickle of sweat down my spine as I carefully unscrewed the gasket—leaning back to dodge the remanence of steam as a soft hiss filtered through the air.
I wiped impatiently at the sweat beading my brow along with my back before grabbing my hat and placing it firmly back on my head, thankful for the minimal shade as I hung my shirt over the side of the truck and stalked toward the back.
A shrill whinny sounded from the attached horse trailer as the large bay stallion inside pranced nervously, causing the enclosure to rock back and forth.
“Hey, whoa, settle down, now,” I said calmly, peeking in through the open window. “We’ll be on our way soon,” I told the horse, then muttered under my breath, “Although we would’ve been there by now had someone done what I’d asked.”
I hoisted myself up into the truck’s bed and reached for the cooler I kept on hand.
Last I checked, there were at least ten bottles of water in there.
Right now, they were my saving grace and my only solution for getting this hunk of junk going long enough to get me back to the ranch.
I lifted the lid and immediately slammed it back down with a harsh swear, giving the empty cooler a solid kick and sending it skittering across the bed of the truck.
No coolant, and no water. I was going to throttle my brother.
The trailer rocked violently, the bed of my truck swaying with it, and I took a moment to calm myself down before hopping back over the side to settle the horse.
My boots barely hit the ground when I saw it, a slight flicker of light from way down the road.
Taking a step farther, I adjusted my hat and narrowed my eyes—trying to get a better look beyond the waves of heat radiating off the pavement.
“Thank God,” I said out loud with a sigh of relief when I realized that little flicker of light was actually sunbeams bouncing off a windshield and not just this heat playing tricks on my mind.
Standing next to the horse trailer, I breathed a little easier as a red car came into view—even though a part of me wasn’t quite confident on how much help the driver could actually be, considering how out of place that car was in rural Texas.
But still, I held out hope that maybe they’d at least have a cell phone that could pick up signal—something I could use to call for some real help.
The low rumble of the engine grew louder as the car quickly approached, and I took another step out into the road—lifting my arm and giving a wave as I flagged down the driver.
I attempted a friendly smile, too, even though my mood was less than pleasant at the moment.
Adding another arm to the mix, I waved again as the car continued toward me—getting closer and closer but, much to my surprise, not slowing down.
I narrowed my eyes and took off my hat, waving it back and forth above my head as the car… sped up?
“Seriously?” I frantically tried to get their attention, wondering how in the hell they didn’t see me standing there. “Hey!” I called out, my eyes growing wide with concern as the driver appeared to completely ignore me. “Heeeeyyyy!”
A bright red flash whipped right by me, swiping the shoulder of the road in the process, and took off—spraying tiny bits of gravel against my jeans and leaving me in a cloud of dirt and dust.
Waving my hat in front of my face, I coughed against the chalky taste filling my mouth and stared in disbelief. “You gotta be kiddin’ me,” I said, trying to process if that had really just happened.
They ignored me.
My truck was literally steaming on the side of the road with the hood up, and they blew right past me like I didn’t exist.
Who does that?
No one from around here, that was for sure.
And of course, with the way my day was going, the only car I’d seen in hours would be some stuck-up city slicker.
Why would they be this far out in the country, anyway?
Probably got lost. Took a wrong turn back when they were on the highway and couldn't find their way back. It was easy enough to do once you got this far out on these back roads, and I’d have been more than happy to give them directions had they bothered to stop.
But, you know what? Fuck it, I hoped they stayed lost.
Anger simmered in my veins as I blew out a harsh sigh and pondered my predicament.
I was back to square one, stranded on the side of the road with a thousand-pound animal that, by the sound of the hooves pounding against the metal walls of the trailer, was growing more and more impatient by the second.
I blinked in disbelief, staring off in the distance as the dust settled before scrubbing my hands down my face.
At this point, I really had only one option, and it was currently wreaking havoc to my trailer.
Propping my hands on my hips, I shook my head and released another sigh as I retrieved my shirt from where it hung and slipped it on before grabbing my cell phone from the truck.
Town limits were still miles away, so it looked like the horse and I were going to have to suck it up and walk the distance in this blistering heat.
Who knew? Maybe I’d actually get lucky and find some cell service along the way.
I laughed at that, knowing damn well the chances of that were slim as I grabbed a lead rope from the small tack closet and stepped into the trailer through the side door.
The stallion snorted as I hooked the rope to its halter, and I gave the animal a few gentle pats to help calm its jittery nerves before backing him out of the trailer and onto the side of the road.
I took a few moments to let the horse familiarize itself with its surroundings as I continued to stroke my hand down along his neck and back—silently conveying that even though this situation sucked we’d be okay and there was nothing to worry about.
“All right, big guy,” I said with a gentle but no-nonsense tone. “We’ve got to get to town, and it’ll go a hell of a lot faster if you cooperate.”
The stallion blew out a burst of hair through its nostrils, tossing his head and shifting his hindquarters sideways.
“Don’t be like that. Come on, now, easy.
” I continued to pet the horse, using soothing words of praise as I slowly looped the lead rope over the stallion’s neck and knotted the end into its halter.
With my makeshift reins in hand, I gripped the stallion’s mane and lifted myself onto its back—keeping a tight grip as the animal sidestepped and pranced nervously.
“Easy, boy, easy,” I said, knowing that, with one unguarded move, this horse could take my already rough day from bad to worse.
Getting bucked off was never fun, and the last thing I wanted right now was for this thing to throw me—especially on the side of the road where I’d most likely crack my head in the fall and lie there unconscious for who knew how long, looking like fresh roadkill.
And, with the lack of vehicles traveling this road, the buzzards would more than likely find me before another human being would.
Shoving the morbid thoughts aside, I gained control of the horse and urged him to move forward—thankful when the animal complied and moved into a smooth walk.
Man, I was in a shit mood. And the kicker was that it really had nothing to do with my truck breaking down, or my brother’s selective memory, or even the driver of that car—although I'd definitely love to give them a piece of my mind if I ever get the chance. It was this day and what it was.
Correction, what it would have been.
On instinct, my thumb rubbed against the base of my ring finger—that empty feeling consuming me as my mind flashed back to this time last year. The plans. The promises. All of them gone with four little words.
Silence surrounded us as we began the long trek to town, and on any other day I’d have been more than grateful for the peace and quiet, but not today.
Today I needed noise. Anything to keep my mind from wandering down that path of disappointment and what-ifs.
But there I was, alone with my thoughts and a horse I’d never met until about two hours ago, and I desperately needed a distraction.
My fingers started to tap against my thigh, following the rhythm playing in my head as I added a low whistle to the mix—something I’d play if I were back at my house and lazily strumming my guitar.
It helped for a while, but when my mindless tune went rogue and morphed into an unwelcome ballad, I shifted gears and went for a good ol' drinking song. By the third one my mood had significantly lifted, especially when I decided tonight’s drinks were on my brother as payback for getting me stranded—and after the day I'd had it was definitely a top shelf kind of night.
A devious grin tipped my mouth at that, and just as I switched from a low whistle to singing about having friends in low places, I paused as a bright glare from up the road caught my eye.
Narrowing my gaze on the hazy image ahead, my grin widened when a familiar, bright red car slowly came into focus.
Shaking my head at this unexpected gift of good fortune, I picked up where I left off with my song and urged the horse forward into a lazy, graceful jog—eager to stare down the guy rude enough to leave me stranded and treat him to a special dose of southern hospitality.