Chapter 5
walker texas ranger
Rowan - now
Incoming FaceTime call from Bri.
I prop my phone on the windowsill over the kitchen sink and hit accept before turning half my attention back to the leaky faucet in my hands.
My stepsister’s face fills the screen. “Hey, Bri.”
“Um, Rowan?” Irritation edges her voice. “Care to explain who this oaf is that just showed up at our front door like a stray dog?”
Bri huffs out a restrained breath through her nose as my best friend sidles into the frame, not a care in the world, proud grin on his face.
“Dubs?”
“Shaw, tell your sister I’m not a creeper.”
“Bri, this is my friend, Walker, and he’s not a creeper,” I say quickly then level a look at Dubs. “What are you doing there?”
“I came to help, man.”
Bri scoffs and Walker Willis turns on her with a smug smile that’s all charm. “You got a problem, sweetheart? Something caught in your throat?”
She narrows her eyes on him, a silent dare to call her sweetheart one more time. Dubs wisely keeps his mouth shut. “Tell your guard dog he can go back to where he came from.” The order is directed at me, but she’s glaring at said guard dog like a lioness on the hunt.
“Texas,” he supplies, thumb hiked at his chest.
Bri tilts her head in slow motion. “Your name is Walker?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he answers with a southern twang that wasn’t half as thick a moment ago.
“And you’re from Texas.” A statement, dry as a tumbleweed.
I fold my lips against a smile. My friend’s about to step into the sparring ring with one of the strongest women I know. Bridget Evans doesn’t back down from a fight, especially battles of trash-talking and sarcasm.
Dubs walks right into her trap, but he’s no fool. “Don’t let my brown Caribbean skin fool you. Born in Puerto Rico, raised in Texas.”
I shimmy the wrench around the base of the faucet and crank the handle again. Water continues to sputter out from underneath. I bite back a curse.
Bri blinks slowly at my friend. “For the love of all that is holy, please don’t tell me you’re an Army Ranger.”
“Why? You got a thing for soldiers, sweetheart?”
“Dubs,” I warn, not because Bri needs my protection, but because she’s got that gleam in her eye, and I care about my friend’s well-being.
Okay, but I also kind of want to see how this pans out.
“Don’t Dubs me, Shaw. Bristly Bri is a big girl and can handle me all on her own,” he says with a finishing wink at my stepsister.
Bri bristles, unironically, and a laugh bubbles up my throat. She presses two fingers between her brows, eyes pinched shut. “Your name is Walker, you’re from Texas, and you’re an Army Ranger.”
Walker, the Ranger from Texas, smiles like there’s a hanger stuck between his cheeks. “Say my name again, princess.”
She winces. “Gross.” A pause for two beats then she turns to me. “Is this actually happening right now? Like, everyone in this Bermuda Triangle of missed jokes is totally serious?”
Poor Dubs actually manages to look confused. “What’d I miss?”
“You are literally Walker Texas Ranger,” she deadpans, brows low.
He barks a laugh so loud my phone speaker crackles. “Shaw, baby. You hear that? How come none of you boys ever figured that one out?”
“Don’t know, man,” I offer, half focused back on the faucet. “Guess it never came up.”
“Well, I’ll be damned, honey.” He throws an arm around Bri and hauls her into his side. She scrunches her nose, but it’s no bother to Dubs. “You just unlocked my new favorite nickname.”
“Walker Texas Ranger is kind of a mouthful, don’t ya think?” She shrugs his arm away.
“Nah, haven’t you heard? Everything’s bigger in Texas,” he retorts, winking again.
Why am I even on this call?
Bri dry heaves. “I think I just threw up in my mouth a little bit.”
I should probably get this conversation back on track. “Dubs, seriously, what are you doing in North Carolina?”
“Seriously, I came to help. You wouldn’t let me come to Colorado so that left sweet, precious, would-never-hurt-a-fly Bri here. I know you’ve got a big residency to get to soon, so put me to work, baby.”
She squints at him, assessing. “Funny. I never heard of you before today.”
He pins her with the same look long enough for me to tap my screen thinking it’s frozen. “Nah, that’s a joke,” he finally says.
Bri quirks a brow. “Is it though?”
Dubs snaps over to me, face damn near Blair Witching my screen. “Shaw, do you really not talk about me?”
I can’t get a word in edgewise because Bri’s all too happy to answer for me. “Never. Not once.”
Dubs mimes a knife to his chest. “My man. That one cuts deep, bro.”
I snort but ignore his antics. I look to Bri. “Where’s Mom?”
“Resting. PT was rough this morning. She said her head was hurting. And before you freak out, remember headaches are normal after a traumatic brain injury. They’re less frequent now than they were a month ago. That’s good news, Ro. It means she’s improving.”
Eyes fixed on the faucet, I clear my throat and nod. Bri would know better than I would, but watching Mom struggle this much—still—four months later is a hammer straight to my heart.
“Wonder Woman, Shaw.” I catch my best friend’s steady gaze, willing me to remember how strong my mother is.
She’s Wonder Woman.
“Not to interrupt the little bromance moment you two seem to be having, but he’s not staying.”
Walker clutches his pearls on a sharp gasp. “Bri, baby, you wound me.”
She rolls her eyes. “Listen, Chuck…”
Dubs’ smile splits his entire face at the ridiculous nickname. This type of back and forth is what the sniper lives for.
Before I can parse out whatever other nonsense the two of them can bicker about, the wrench in my hand slips. Water spews from the faucet in every direction, and my shirt is doused in a matter of seconds. I grumble a string of expletives and slap the handle to the off position.
I look back at the screen, shaking away the excess water on my hands. Dubs and Bri ramble on like I’m not even here. Her, unmoving on the plan to kick him to the curb. Dubs, cranking up the charm to eleven.
“Darlin’, you seem very stressed. I’m concerned for your health,” he volleys.
“Do you have a pet name word count you’re trying to hit?” she volleys back.
“Why? You like it?”
I wave in front of the screen. “Okay, kids. As fun as this has been, my hands are full. I gotta go. Bri, Dubs is harmless. Dubs, behave.”
He gives me a tight salute. “Don’t worry your pretty little head, boss. Go find your runaway bride and I’ll hold down the fort here.”
Bri’s nostrils flare. “Rowan, no! He will do no such thing.”
“Sugar, what side of the bed do you prefer? I hope you like playing little spoon, cause big spoon is my jam.”
Dubs’ smile reaches his temples in slow motion like the cartoon Grinch, eyes bugged out. Bri shudders.
“I’m out,” I declare as I disconnect the call before I can get sucked into more of their bickering.
Truth is, Dubs is as genuine as they come. In his own charming, obnoxious way, he’ll wear Bri down, I have no doubt. He does what best friends do—what family does. He showed up to help even when I told him not to because he knew I needed it.
I only wish I’d been as good of a son, grandson, and brother as Walker Willis is a friend.
My phone buzzes from the window with a series of texts from Bri.
Bri
Any tips on how to hide a body?
Asking for a friend.
It’s me. I’m the friend.
And the “body” will be that of YOUR friend.
I’m primed to send a reply, urging her to not get worked up over it. To assure her Dubs is a good guy and she should put him to work because he’ll do whatever she needs without complaint. That’s just the kind of person he is.
Before I can send that message, another one comes in.
Bri
Also, what runaway bride?
I toss the phone aside and bury my face in my hands. My lofty hopes that Bri hadn’t heard Dubs’ comment crash to the wet tile beneath my feet. For as little as Dubs knows about my one night with her, my family knows even less.
Because I told them nothing.
Dubs seems to think finding Hannah is as easy as walking out the front door and poof, there she’ll be.
But we didn’t exchange numbers, I don’t do social media, and even if I had the information to track her down—and I probably could—she had her reasons for sneaking out of bed that morning.
I may not know what those reasons were exactly, but I can make an educated guess.
Her mom. Her ex-fiancé. Our absolutely abysmal timing. My job that took me everywhere else but here.
Hannah chose the ending she wanted, and I have to respect it.
I was lucky to find her once. My only regret is that I couldn’t keep her. And I doubt I’m lucky enough to find her twice.