Chapter 2
A bbi set her items on the gas station counter and assessed the cashier. If anyone knew everyone in town, it’d be the bespectacled, gray-haired lady manning the cash register. “I’m looking for Reno Walker.”
“Who?” The cashier’s incredulous expression would be embarrassing if Abbi’s head wasn’t pounding.
“Reno Walker.”
The woman shook her head. “There is no one in town named Reno, I can guarantee, but we’ve got a ton of Walker boys. Maybe you’re looking for one of them?”
“Maybe. My brother always called him Reno. They were in the army together.”
An older guy waiting in line behind her spoke up. “A couple of the young Walkers were in the army. Maybe it’s one of them.”
The clerk rang up Abbi’s pathetic breakfast of a chocolate-glazed pastry and diet soda. She’d started off the morning very un-Abbi-like, or rather, more Abbi-like than she’d wanted. Why not revert to another college habit? She just hoped it stayed down.
The woman rattled off the price before saying, “That’s right, a couple of them were. George, why don’t you give her directions to the Walker spread. They’ll help her out.”
Abbi handed over her cash while the poster-child for an old farmer with his denim overalls and dirty trucker’s hat rattled off things like “turn north” and “head west.” All Abbi got from the conversation was that there were five Walker cousins who farmed and ranched and they all lived around each other.
Moore was small; how hard would it be to find them?
She drove for a couple of hours with no luck.
She now knew Moore by heart and every avenue in and out of town.
Finally, she stopped at another gas station where a man about her age was more than willing to help her with directions.
A greasy hot dog somehow called her name, and she grabbed another soda.
And a water so she could claim one responsible thing for the morning.
After receiving the most thorough directions of her life, and getting warned about one particular Walker named Cash who was a heartbreaker, she was on the highway and pointing in the right direction.
She munched on her food and drained her soda.
Breakfast had stayed down so she’d taken it as a good sign, despite her stomach’s constant upset.
She cruised past her turnoff. “Oh, shit.” Time to find an approach to turn around.
Straight shot on gravel, the man had said.
She drove for a mile or two and wouldn’t have minded a few more.
The countryside was gorgeous. Brightly colored leaves still decorated the trees, and golden or already harvested fields surrounded her.
The temps were supposed to be moderate today, and she would have loved to dig out her athletic shoes and taken a nature hike if she’d felt better.
Two houses—more like the trees surrounding the houses—came into view. The place on her left was concealed by a few rows of trees, but the place on her right was only partially blocked from view.
Which one should she choose? She slowed to a stop since no one else was on the road. The man who’d warned her of Cash Walker had said he lived… Dammit, she couldn’t remember. There goes her scatterbrain, as Ellis always said. She rolled her eyes at herself like she would’ve at him.
She picked the house on the right that didn’t have as many trees. It was more sensible to approach strange men out in the open.
Her parents would die eighty deaths if they knew what she was up to.
Ellis was supposed to have accompanied her, but he’d had a shit-fit.
Didn’t stop her, though. Her family had only gotten vague stories about her brother’s death, and she wanted closure.
Needed it. She couldn’t be Responsible Abbi when her mind hounded her for answers.
Something deep inside drove her to seek out her brother’s old army buddies, and if that meant knocking on the doors of random farmers, so be it.
She’d find Reno Walker from Moore, Minnesota, and she’d get the full rundown of how her brother had died.
She turned into the drive. At first glance, the yard appeared cluttered, but it was actually neatly fenced off.
Pens and corrals ran parallel to the road.
Stacks of hay three bales high rimmed one edge of the property.
A long barn separated the pens from the yard.
Another huge barn also had fences coming off it and horses meandered around inside.
Parking in front of the house, she didn’t get out and it wasn’t because her food threatened to heave.
She was looking at the cutest old farmhouse she’d ever seen; not even her grandparents’ house had been as adorable.
Two stories high, painted white with yellow shutters, it was picturesque, but it was the wraparound porch that Abbi would kill for.
Any direction, point your rocking chair and chill.
Fantasies of sketching the horizon while the sun set dominated her thoughts. Summer nights would be divine.
How long since she’d sketched? Since they’d received the dreaded knock on the door announcing Perry’s death.
She climbed out and expected to be hit with the smell of manure, but fresh country air was all that greeted her.
Her breath hitched. This was it. Her first step on her hunt for Reno.
She knocked on the door. And waited. And waited. Knocked again. Rang the doorbell. Nothing.
Frowning, she pivoted and scanned the yard.
An obnoxiously large pickup sat outside the long barn.
Must be the thing for the guys around here.
She had a vague recollection of climbing into a truck just as big last night.
Knowing she’d be in no shape to drive, she’d chosen a place close enough to walk, totally not planning on hooking a ride back.
She pushed the thought away. Her hot hookup would only distract her.
A horse whinnied. Was someone down there?
She eyeballed her shoes. Should she dig out her boots? Well, it wasn’t like she was going tromping through manure. She just had to flag someone down to let them know she was here and wanted to talk.
Nimbly, she picked her way over the gravel driveway that led to the barn.
The deep rumble of a man’s voice and a horse’s answering whinny sounded deep inside the barn. Straw littered the floor; she chose her steps carefully. The far barn door was open and she spied movement.
Peeking around the corner, she was impressed by the sight.
“Whoa, Patsy Cline. Calm down, girl.” A man with surprisingly broad shoulders sat astride a massive brown horse.
His back was to her with the sun blazing behind him, so she couldn’t distinguish specific features other than an amazing body and voice.
She shaded her eyes, but her headache roared back to do an I-told-you-so that she should’ve drunk more water.
God, that voice. Yummier than the one she remembered from last night. Or the one she heard in her hangover-fogged state this morning. But she wasn’t running out on this guy. To get the information she needed, she’d be staying to chat for a while.
The horse’s rear end swung to the side and it shook its big head while the mesmerizing guy murmured encouraging words.
She didn’t know if this was a bad time, but she knocked lightly. The sound didn’t carry over the horse’s scratching hooves.
She knocked louder and the man’s head whipped around. She was nailed with a vivid blue gaze.
Her stomach plummeted and her mouth dropped open. She squeaked.
Oh. My. God.
No .
A slow grin spread across his face. “Well, well. We meet again.”
Her mouth hung open while she gaped at him. Ordinarily, if a girl stalked him home, he’d be panicking, but the look on Abbi’s face was too filled with horror.
He swiveled Patsy Cline around and patted her neck. “Good girl.” But he didn’t take his eyes off Abbi. Didn’t want to. In the dim motel room, she was smokin’ , but her ethereal beauty was enhanced in the light of day. Her hair had dried and hung in soft waves around a face that’d gone pale.
Her mouth snapped shut. She frantically looked around, as if searching for anyone else to talk to. One hand flew to her lips and the other to her abdomen. Then she abruptly turned into the barn and heaved.
Cash’s brows flew up. Patsy Cline shifted underneath him, sensing the disturbance. He dismounted and tied her off on the side of the corral. He stole a second to soothe his horse before he checked on the sick woman.
Horrible retching came from Abbi as she lost the contents of her stomach. He rushed to her side and ignored the mess at her feet, more concerned about her being ill than having muck to clean.
“Oh my god, I am so sorry.” She wiped her mouth on her sleeve and a blush stained her cheeks. At least she’d gotten some color back.
“I’ll throw some straw on it and shovel it out. No need to worry. Are you feeling okay?”
She nodded, then winced. “Too much to drink last night.”
What? “Honey, you didn’t seem that bad off, and you only had a couple beers while we were chatting.” Before she’d beckoned him back to her room, where he’d burned through his stash of condoms.
“I had a few before you showed up.” She buried her head in her hands and backed away from the spew on the ground. “And a couple of shots before supper.”
“Whoa.” He used the same tone he had used on his horse. Abbi’s gaze darted all over like she was about to flee. “I swear, if I’d thought you were wasted, I wouldn’t have taken you up on your offer.”
It’d have killed him to miss out on her banging body, but he was into fully conscious partners only.
She waved him off. “Not your fault. I hold my alcohol well. Until I don’t. I…gotta go.”
She was getting away from him. Again. When she stumbled slightly, he swooped in to pick her up.
“Oh.” She pushed at his chest, her expression full of dismay. “Don’t do that. I stink.”
He smiled in reassurance. Vomit smell or not, it didn’t decrease her appeal. “I’ll take you to the house and you can clean up while I get my mare settled.” Worry plagued him. Patsy Cline wasn’t acting right, but he needed to take care of Abbi first. “Then you can tell me why you’re here.”
She relaxed into him like she had when they’d been alone in her room. He’d been reliving it all freaking morning.
He aimed straight for his house, juggled her while finagling the handle, and nudged the door open with his boot. Abbi’s color was stabilizing, her healthy glow returning.
Settling her on the couch, he said, “Use what you need; I’ll be right back.”
The burn of her eyes licked his back as he walked out the way he’d come. Why did he have to be so aware of her?
He gauged the time. The horses had been fed and the section fence repaired.
He should be meeting up with Dillon to give him a break from the combine.
Patsy Cline had delayed him when he’d noticed she wasn’t interested in her food and was pawing at the ground.
He’d been trying to get her back into the stall to monitor her symptoms when Abbi had interrupted.
He jogged to the barn and unhooked his horse. She was whinnying and pawing hard. He managed to get the suffering horse into a stall before she decided to drop and roll.
Hell, that was a bad sign. Withdrawing his phone, he hit speed dial. “Hey, Doc, it’s Patsy Cline.”
He rattled off the symptoms and hung up. Torn between his sick horse and a sick Abbi, he sighed. Doc would take care of Patsy Cline; he’d have to take care of Abbi.
On his way back to the house, he texted Dillon about the colic and the vet but didn’t mention the woman on his couch. When he got inside, the couch was empty. Sounds of splashing water came from the small bathroom in the narrow hallway.
He was used to entertaining his cousins but was at a loss for what to do in this situation. He stared at his boots for a few moments, trying to come up with something to do while waiting.
Water.
He went into the kitchen to pour a glass of water. Coming back into the living room, his steps loud on the hardwood, he heard the bathroom door squeak open. Abbi couldn’t sneak away in this old house.
“I have some water for you.” He set it on the end table.
Abbi scooted around him and settled on the edge of the couch with her small suitcase at her feet.
She must’ve grabbed it while he’d been wrestling with his horse.
Her sweatshirt this time was a black hoodie with neon trim.
Yoga pants showed off her legs, and athletic shoes capped off the look.
Sporty was the only style he’d seen her in, but she did it well.
Her face pinched. “I’m so sorry about the barn.”
“Don’t worry. Pull out a few calves stuck in the birth canal and puke won’t bother you.”
Her lips curled in disgust. “Uck, I’ll pass. But it’s still embarrassing.”
He had so many questions. Why’d you leave this morning? Why’d you invite me back for some fun between the sheets in the first place? But he started with the most pressing. “So, what are you doing out here? Did you get lost?”
She shook her head. “No, I came to Moore looking for one of my brother’s friends. Two, actually.”
“Did they leave you hanging at the bar last night?”
Several expressions traveled across her lovely features. “No, I was…drowning my sorrows, you could say. I planned to go searching today and—” she spread her hands, “—here I am.”
He reclined against the wall with his arms crossed. She hadn’t seemed sad last night. “And your search brought you to me. Who’s your brother?”
“Yeah, I need directions to the guys my brother served with. My brother’s name was Perry Daniels.”