45
I t’s five p.m. by the time I make it home from Bozeman.
This morning when I woke up, Ruby was gone.
She left a note when she should have been in goddamn bed.
All day I’ve been on edge. Not even signing the paperwork that declares Runaway Ranch safe has eased the ache in my gut.
All day my mind’s been on her and it’s no different when I storm through the front door and toss my keys and wallet on the counter, growling at the empty house.
The ranch without Ruby is like the sky without the sun.
Unnatural.
“Ruby!” I call out, my pulse quickening. I feel like every vein in my neck is about to pop.
I scan the kitchen, the living room, bathroom, before sprinting upstairs.
She’s not here.
“Fuck.” I tear a hand through my hair, returning to the kitchen.
She’s avoiding me, avoiding what happened this morning.
I pace the kitchen, dragging a hand over my beard. Except for a text that told me she went into town, my calls have gone straight to voicemail. Her laptop’s on the kitchen counter, her car’s in the driveway, but the worry about her taking off still eats at me. Where the fuck is she?
I eye her bucket list on the fridge. Something I once chalked up to an excitable girl’s dreams, but now ...
The entire summer plays back in my head. Her refusal to tell me why she’s running away. Hand to her heart. Pills at midnight. Fainting in my bed. Ford’s words: What do you know about this girl?
And her list.
That goddamn bucket list.
“Fuck,” I blast out. I brace my hands on the kitchen island and bow my head.
Ruby’s sick.
Something’s wrong with her.
My gut is lined with shards of glass. She’s been good about keeping her secret, whatever it is, but it ends today. I need to find her, and when I do, I’m going to sit her beautiful, stubborn ass down and make her tell me the truth. I’ve gone easy on her, but not anymore.
If it is anemia, I plan to drag her to every doctor in the state of Montana.
I twist around at the clatter of the screen door.
Ford stands there, wild-eyed. “Charlie, Ruby saddled up Arrow.”
I go cold, then I get pissed. He knows as well as I do she isn’t supposed to ride without me.
“Shit.” I tear a hand through my hair, keep it there. “When?”
“Ten minutes ago. She’s in the pasture.” He hesitates, then says, “She doesn’t look so good, man.”
“Fuck,” I swear before sprinting out of the house at a dead run. Ford’s right behind me as we clear the gravel road, picking up speed when I’m within eyesight of Ruby sitting atop Arrow.
Behind her, Wyatt comes up on Pepita.
Thank Christ for my brother.
I storm toward her, but when Ruby glances down at me, my entire body locks. My heart drops to my boots.
She looks beaten down. There’s no other word for it. Her face is pale, her rose-gold hair in a wild tangle, and red rims her blue eyes.
But it’s her spirit dulled, broken that scares the shit out of me.
“Hi, Cowboy.” She says it so casually, like she hasn’t been avoiding me and my calls for the last eight hours.
“Ruby,” I say, fighting the urge to growl at her and instead channeling a gentle calm I don’t feel right now. “Get down from there.” I grab the bit, stilling her and Arrow, but he snorts, stomping his feet and backing up.
She stares at my hard gaze. “You’re going to yell.” Her lower lip trembles.
“I won’t yell.” I blow out a frustrated breath. “Baby, I’m worried.”
Tears well in her eyes and she shakes her head. “Don’t be.”
I take hold of the saddle horn. “Give me your hand. Let me get you down.”
“No. Not yet.”
I edge closer, my hand moving to grip her thigh. “We need to talk. Right the hell now.” My voice is rougher than I’ve ever used to talk to Ruby, but I need her to hear me. To listen.
She flinches. “I know we do. I just need to ride first.Please. Let me do this, Charlie.” The tremor in her voice nearly knocks me off-balance.
With a gentle nudge, she leads Arrow into a slow trot.
I hustle beside her to keep up. “Your list. What’s it really for, Ruby?”
Fear flickers in her eyes, and her voice turns to a whisper. “Charlie, it is what it is.”
“Bullshit,” I growl, and then my stomach drops when I see it.
Instead of letting the rein lay across her palm, she has it wrapped around her left hand. A motion that tells me she’s distracted, her mind elsewhere.
She should not be on a horse right now.
Worry rips a hole through me. “Ruby—”
I go to grab the back of the saddle and pull myself up behind her, to force her down, but she’s quick. With a graceful movement, she squeezes her legs, moving Arrow into a bouncy trot across the pasture and away from me.
She’s a fast learner and I’m the fucking idiot who taught her to ride.
Worried eyes meeting mine, Wyatt follows behind as I head after her.
Shoulders tense, Ruby closes her eyes as she tilts her head back and lets the sunshine warm her face. Like she’s trying to charge herself back up.
The thought hits me like a sucker punch.
She’s had a thorn stuck in her this entire time and I’ve been too blind to see it.
I was right.
All this time Ruby’s been running, but she’s not running from me.
Not anymore.
Ruby and Arrow come to a complete and abrupt stop in the middle of the pasture.
My body goes cold.
Muscles tensing, I jog over to her. “Ruby?”
For a few seconds, she sits still, swaying slightly. And then her glassy gaze flickers from Arrow to me.
She breathes heavily. “Something’s going to happen,” she tells me.
My question’s a panicked growl. “What?” I reach out and grip the back of the saddle. “What’s going to happen, Sunflower?”
“Cowboy,” she whispers, her long lashes fluttering. “Catch me.”
Before I can process her words, I watch in horror as her eyes roll back and she goes limp, her tiny body slumping to the side. But she doesn’t fall.
Unconscious, she hangs in suspended motion.
“Ruby!” My stomach is a black hole of panic, my heart lurching into my throat. I reach up to catch her, to pull her safely into my arms, but I can’t.
She’s held tight, unable to be moved.
And then Wyatt screams out, “Charlie, her wrist! Her goddamn wrist!”
No. God, no.
Her slender wrist is tangled in the reins.
Spooked by the yelling, Arrow bucks, ragged hooves flying. The rough motion jerks Ruby’s small frame like a rag doll. Her head falls back for a moment, and then comes forward again.
“No! Wyatt!” I bellow, trying to still Arrow, but the frightened horse jolts, trying to shake us loose, to bolt for the stables.
Somehow, I manage to move Ruby so she’s slumped forward over Arrow’s neck.
The ground thundering beneath him, Wyatt pulls Pepita up alongside Arrow. He reaches for Ruby’s arm, his shaky hand running along the length of rein, attempting to free her.
“I can’t get it,” Wyatt breathes. “Fuck. Fuck .”
Ford’s there too.
On his horse, Eephus, he bookends Ruby’s other side, blocking Arrow in so he can’t get away. “Hold on tight,” Ford bellows at Wyatt. “Don’t you let her go.”
Christ. My legs almost go out from under me.
It’s my worst nightmare happening in slow motion.
If Arrow takes off, Ruby will fall.
He’ll drag her, trample her.
My heart is in my throat. Unable to breathe, to think logically, when she’s in danger.
This isn’t happening.
Not again.
Not to her.
Nostrils flaring, Arrow rears back, fighting my hold on his bridle, readying to run.
Ruby jerks, slips, sags lower toward the hard-packed grass.
Ford swears.
“ No! ” My left hand clamps around her free wrist and I hold her tighter.
The soft hiss of leather.
Suddenly, Wyatt’s bowie knife is in his hands. Eyes wild with panic, he saws frantically through the leather strap of the rein. The steel blade shimmers in the sunlight.
“Cut her loose!” I holler at Wyatt, my blood pumping. “ Now !”
“I’m trying, man!”
Wyatt continues to saw at the strap. He swears viciously as it refuses to break, and then, after a few terrifying seconds, it snaps.
Ruby’s free.
I pull her limp body into my arms.
And then I run like hell for the house.