SLOAN #2
“But it’s not okay, Kyle, don’t you see that?” She turned toward him, something in her splitting hard. “Dogs are so loyal. He didn’t deserve to be disposed of like this.” A tear slid down her cheek, and she dashed it away.
Then, with the snow swirling around them and the engine idling beside them, reality hit her hard at last.
And she broke.
She didn’t really see Kyle slip his arms around her as the tears fell. She just buried her face against the soft fabric of his coat, her shoulders shaking with everything she’d held back the last two days.
Because no matter how loyal she’d been, no matter how much she’d loved Evan, he’d betrayed her, too. Disposed of her, really.
He might not have dumped her out in the middle of a Wyoming highway, but she was still here, lost and afraid, and unsure of everything in her future, all because he couldn’t honor the commitment he’d made to her.
All because he’d been selfish.
Evan had wounded her deeply, dammit, and she didn’t want that to be true, but there it was. “It hurts,” she cried, shoulders shaking. “It fucking hurts.”
He stroked her hair softly. “I know.”
“I-I didn’t deserve—” She couldn’t finish the words, but Kyle had been right. She didn’t deserve what Evan had done to her. And she hated that Evan had found a way to justify himself.
Evan fucking Tipton.
Spineless asshole.
She didn’t have to second-guess what he would have done if he’d seen the dog on the highway.
He would have kept driving, not wanting to get his car dirty or risk getting bitten. Or some stupid excuse.
Maybe fate, God, something had brought Kyle into her life a couple of days ago, but not to witness her downfall.
Like someone had been watching out for her instead.
That thought comforted her more than the steadiness of her arms around her.
She drew a deep breath, letting herself settle for a few more moments before she pulled away, wiping her cheeks. She doubted it would be the last time she’d cry over Evan Tipton, no matter how much she wanted it to be.
Hearts weren’t that easy to piece back together.
But right now, she had a new distraction to worry about.
Focus, Sloan.
“Thank you,” she managed, not looking Kyle in the eye as she glanced back at the dog. “We should get going—get that poor pup some help.”
He nodded, thankfully not commenting on her breakdown or her sudden change of subject. Maybe he didn’t know how to comment on it, or just thought better of it.
She climbed back into the passenger seat, squeezing her cold fingers. What in the hell were they going to do now? The dog clearly needed a vet. Probably food and water, too. He smelled like he’d been outdoors for a while—earthy and musky—and was panting softly.
Not to mention, they were in the middle of nowhere.
In Wyoming.
On a Sunday.
Not exactly the type of state that probably even had a ton of emergency vet clinics to choose from this far out in the wilderness.
She dragged her hands down her face, exchanging a look with Kyle. “What’s the nearest big city?”
“Big city or big tourist attraction that has a large town attached to it?” He arched a brow. “I think we’re about a mile outside of Jackson Hole if I read my map right the last time I looked at the GPS.”
Jackson Hole.
Of course.
She gulped a breath.
She’d been there plenty of times. Not just because it was a ski town, which Evan appreciated, but also because Cheyenne was from there. Her parents had a ranch outside the main town, where she’d stayed before, and they had a vet who came regularly. And they knew Sloan.
They hadn’t been at the wedding, either, because Cheyenne’s dad had just had surgery a few weeks ago.
But what would they think if she showed up there—Kyle at her side—with a maimed, abandoned dog in tow?
This would have all been so much easier if she’d gotten another phone by now, but she’d avoided it because then Evan might be able to track her location before she figured out how to turn that feature off.
And, truthfully, it was refreshing having an excuse not to deal with whatever texts and phone calls she’d received.
But now she had no way to call them first. She didn’t even have Cheyenne’s number memorized.
Cheyenne, who is probably hurt and confused about why you didn’t talk to her. I really wish I could send her a message to let her know I’m okay. I should have sent one before this.
Sloan gritted her teeth. “My matron of honor—Cheyenne—well, my best friend, really. Her parents have a ranch in Jackson Hole. They might be able to help us.”
He studied her. “Is that something you’re comfortable doing?”
She braced her fingertips against her temple, glancing back at the dog.
“I don’t know,” she said, surprised at her ability to be honest with him.
“They’re nice people. And Cheyenne is my friend, not really Evan’s.
But I didn’t exactly tell her where I was going, or with whom.
And it’s . . . it’s all a little complicated, you know? ”
He grabbed his phone off the windshield again. “Let me see what animal hospitals exist around here. If any. If I have service.” He tapped into the keyboard. “Miracle. I do. Oh, there’s one in downtown Jackson . . . for their established clients only.”
He fell silent, clicking through other links. “These sites aren’t loading. I think service is intermittent.”
The dog jerked suddenly, then yelped again, trying to push off the back seat with his good back leg.
Dammit.
“You know what? Let’s not overthink this. We can just go to Cheyenne’s parents’ place. I don’t know the address, but once we get to Jackson Hole, I can direct you from there.”
He nodded, already turning the wheel to merge back onto the road. “Then I’ll follow your lead. So long as your sense of direction has improved from that time you got us lost in that corn maze, we’ll be there in an hour-ish. Hopefully.”
Her mouth curved, her memory betraying her, heart tugging. “You know full well why we got lost in that corn maze, Kyle Winnick.”
He gave an impish smile. “The way I remember it, that was just you consoling me.” He drove back into the snow, his shoulders relaxed without a hint of tension.
Just driving forward, decisively, without debate or calculation of inconvenience.
She almost sighed aloud with relief.