The Marine Rancher's Convenient Wife

1. Sterling

STERLING

My cowboy hat is the only thing keeping the icy rain from pricking my skin as it pours down in sheets at the truck stop outside of Shreveport, Louisiana. I parked my black Ford truck in the last covered space near the big-rig pumps, but now I’m practically wading through puddles to get to the door.

“… pretty little thing like you doing out here in this? Your boyfriend inside?”

When I finally reach the glass door and tip my hat up, I see a bulky man to my left hovering near a small figure with a black hoodie covering their head.

The hooded figure nods.

“Cat got your tongue, sweetheart? I could get you a bite to eat. Then you can come warm up in my rig, if you’d like to get out of this rain.”

The hooded figure shakes their head, and I spot a string of long golden hair sticking out of the side. It could be a teenager or a small woman from this angle. The figure is hunched over, shivering in the cold with damp shoulders like they barely escaped the downpour.

“Didn’t your mama ever teach you manners, girl?” The man’s hand snatches her arm.

She yelps in surprise.

“Hey.” I step closer to him, my boots spaced out with my right one slightly back. I square my shoulders and clench my fists.

He turns to me, his tanned face hard, mouth set in a cruel grin that fades when he sees me.

I know I’m a scary-ass-looking Marine. My dog tags are hanging out of my T-shirt. The scar my little brother gave me when he hit me with a shovel when we were kids runs through my left eyebrow, and people ask all kinds of questions about how I got it.

His face blanches. “You the boyfriend?”

The girl turns to me, emerald eyes widening to saucers when she sees me. Her lower lip starts trembling, and she sinks back against the concrete wall behind her.

I look back at the man’s hand on her. “She doesn’t want shit from you. Beat it.”

He lets go of her arm and steps toward me. “Nobody asked you, did they?” he says, his rancid breath assaulting my nostrils.

I pop my knuckles, tilting my head to the side. I speak slowly, my voice low. “You have one more chance to get the fuck away from her before I remove you by force. Your choice.”

The man glances back at the girl, who’s watching us with fearful eyes. He debates his next move for a few seconds before deciding he wants to keep the stained teeth in his mouth. He sidesteps me, spitting on the sidewalk.

“Bitch isn’t worth it anyway,” he mumbles under his breath.

My hand snakes out, latching around his throat. He chokes out something unintelligible.

I jerk him closer, gripping his neck tightly as I speak directly into his ear. “Now, I didn’t wanna have to hurt you. But if you don’t apologize for calling her that, you’ll leave me no choice.”

The girl is gaping at me, looking like she’s about to bolt or burst into tears. She covers her mouth with a shaking hand.

The man tries to pull my arm away, but he’s no match for my strength. He spends his days sitting in a truck and his nights accosting women outside truck stops. He’s all bark and no bite when he’s being called out for his bullshit.

He’s gargling his words. “I didn’t … I ga—help!”

I squeeze harder before loosening my hold just a fraction. “Apologize. Now.”

“Fuck, I’m sorry!”

He’s clawing at my hand, trying to scratch me with his short nails. I barely register the pain, adrenaline fueling me.

With one final squeeze, I shove him away. He stumbles into the rain, nearly falling face-first into the mud. He glances back at us, eyes darting from me to her before he decides whatever he needs inside must not be worth it. He saunters off toward one of the big rigs while rubbing his neck.

When he’s fully out of sight, I turn back to face the girl.

She’s shivering so badly now that her teeth are chattering.

Her arms are crossed over her stomach in the oversize hoodie, but when she peers up at me this time, her eyes are no longer fearful.

They’re brimming with curiosity. She has no makeup on and a fading black eye that’s mostly yellowed.

She must be on the run.

I take a step back, lifting my hands. “Look, I don’t know if you’re waiting for someone, but a truck stop in this area at night is no place for a defenseless woman. He’s not the last of them.”

She nibbles her bottom lip, turning to the side and shrinking back as two more truckers walk past us and go into the convenience store.

I was raised to protect women first and ask questions later, so I can’t just leave her out here in the cold.

“Can I call someone for you?”

She shakes her head. I wrap my hand around the back of my neck and debate how to convince her I’m trustworthy so I can help her.

“My sisters would skin my ass if I left you out here like this. What’s your name?”

The mention of sisters seems to catch her attention. An ounce of tension eases from her shoulders.

“Eden,” she says. Her voice has a rasp to it.

I extend my hand. “Name’s Sterling. Sterling Redford.”

She looks down at my callous rancher’s hand before tentatively extending hers. I grasp her small, soft fingers and shake her hand gently.

“Can I help you in some way, Eden? I’m headed to Virginia Beach, but I can take a detour if you tell me where you’re going.”

She glances around at the darkness and the unrelenting rain. “How far is Virginia Beach?”

“About eighteen hours, plus stops. I’m coming from my family’s ranch in La Pradera. Been on the road for four.”

“I don’t have much money.”

“I’m not expecting anything in return.” I point to the dog tags around my neck. “I’m in the military. I’m headed to a training camp for six weeks before I go on another mission overseas. Where are you coming from?”

She seems skittish, and the last thing I want is to scare her off or leave her here.

She shrugs. “Just a small town. I’m … I’d like to get farther away from Texas.”

“Well, between here and Virginia Beach, there are a lot of options.”

The guys who went into the store earlier comes back out, followed by an employee with the truck stop’s logo on his shirt.

He pokes his head halfway out the glass door. “Hey, read the sign. No loitering.” He points to the faded sign.

I turn back to Eden. “I’m going in to get some road-trip snacks and an energy drink so I can drive through the night. You want anything?”

Her eyes dart to the employee’s finger on the sign. Finally, she steps closer to me and nods.

“Okay,” she says.

I turn toward the guy and grab the door for Eden. “We’re coming in to get a few things.”

She walks in ahead of me. I try not to hover near her, instead going toward the energy drinks and selecting two different flavors. I also grab a yellow Gatorade and a bag of Funyuns, dill pickle sunflower seeds, and some beef jerky.

I dump it all on the countertop near the register and turn around to look for Eden. She’s over near the snack aisle.

“I’m waiting for her. Where’s your restroom?”

The guy points to the back corner, behind where she is. I walk toward her, fishing through my wallet for my credit card. She has a packet of peanut butter crackers clutched in her tiny hand.

“Here.” I extend the card out to her. “I’m gonna go to the bathroom. My stuff is up there. Can you just pay for it all together?”

She stares at the card in my hand before tentatively taking it.

“Get whatever you want.”

I walk past her toward the restroom. I relieve myself quickly, not wanting to leave her alone too long. I doubt the cashier would do shit about it if another man started bothering her. When I get back out, she’s at the register.

I walk over, only to see that all she selected was the packet of peanut butter crackers and a bottle of water. The cashier is scanning my items now.

“Do two of each of those, except the energy drinks.” I walk back and get another Gatorade and one more of each of the snacks.

When I place them on the counter, Eden is swiping the card. The cashier adds my additional snacks to the bag and hands it to me.

When we reach the door, I open it for her, and she walks out ahead of me. She turns and holds my credit card out to me. I don’t take it.

“Look, I really can’t leave you here like this. If it were my little sister stranded, I’d want someone to help her. I can give you a ride. I’ll try to find you a women’s shelter or something on the way.”

She opens her mouth to answer when another truck driver walks up. He ignores us both and walks inside, but his presence seems to remind her just how vulnerable she is out here alone.

“Okay.” Her voice is shaky.

I sigh in relief, pointing at my truck. “I’ll pull it around so you don’t have to get wet.”

I hand her the bag of snacks and jog out to my pickup. I quickly start it up and pull around so that the passenger door is close to the awning she’s under. I hop out and run around to open the door for her.

To my surprise, she steps up into the vehicle.

When I get back around to the driver’s side, she’s shivering in the passenger seat. I crank up the heat and start driving toward the highway.

“Can you hand me my energy drink?”

She fishes through the bag and hands the blue one to me.

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

We drive in the downpour for a few more minutes before she pulls off her damp hoodie.

“Why are you helping me?”

I glance over. She has the hoodie balled in her lap, and she’s nibbling on the peanut butter crackers. I can finally see her hair and her full face.

She’s stunning. Her skin is pale and smooth, and her golden hair is in a long, loose braid on her shoulder with wisps around her face.

Her full lips are dry, and she has high cheekbones and long eyelashes.

She could grace the cover of a magazine.

I almost forget I’m driving for a minute before I jerk my head back toward the road.

Bruises that match the faded yellowing around her eye also decorate her throat. I grip the steering wheel tighter.

“I told you, my sister would skin me alive if I left you there alone. It’s just a ride, no big deal.”

She nods, leaning back against the seat and twisting open the water bottle.

“I got those extra snacks for you. Help yourself.”

As if answering me, her stomach growls loudly. I turn toward her. She blushes, pursing her lips.

“Sorry.”

“When was the last time you ate something?”

She shrugs. “I don’t know … yesterday, I think.”

“Shit,” I curse under my breath.

We pass a sign for a McDonald’s at the next exit. I put my blinker on and take the exit ramp.

“I can always go for a cheeseburger.”