Chapter 35
WYATT
I finished work a couple of hours ago, which means I’ve had plenty of time to get in my own head about my date with Maddie.
I’ve been fretting over my choice of restaurant, wondering if I should have brought her back here and cooked something or made the drive out to Billings to a fancier place.
As it is, we’re going to a restaurant in a small city about half an hour from Coldwater that Grayson recommended.
Swiping up my wallet, I slide it into the back pocket of my black jeans before picking up my keys.
There’s a lightness in my step that I haven’t felt in the longest time.
I’m dressed in all black, with my shirt open at the collar and my sleeves rolled up, with a matching black Stetson to pull it all together.
I spritz on some cologne before taking one last look in the mirror that hangs in the entryway and heading for the front door.
Here goes nothing.
Nervous excitement runs through me as I lock up my house.
This is happening; barring Maddie not standing me up, we’re going out tonight.
On a real fucking date. I can’t remember the last time I went on one.
It must have been in high school. It’s safe to say I feel a little rusty, but I’m determined to make sure she has a good time.
I bound down my front porch steps and jog to my truck, wincing when I catch sight of the mud splattered over it.
After the rain we had three days ago, the tracks that lead to my house and the main ranch have been softer and although they’ve dried up now, the caked-on dirt is a given.
Nonetheless, I should have had it cleaned and I’m kicking myself for, one, not thinking that far ahead and, two, not having another truck like my brothers.
I guess there’s not much I can do about that now.
A glance at my watch tells me I’ve got ten minutes. Enough time to clear out the cab of my truck so that I don’t send Maddie running for the mountains when I open the door for her.
I hurry back inside, grabbing a trash bag from under the kitchen sink before returning to my truck. It doesn’t take long to throw everything out considering it was mostly empty takeout coffee cups and paper bags from Autumn’s place.
When I’m finished, I step back and admire my handiwork. This might be the cleanest my truck has been since I got it ten years ago.
I inhale, my chest expanding with the size of my breath. It doesn’t escape my attention that I’m doing things I never would have done if this were any other woman. Something about Maddie makes me want to step up and give her everything she deserves.
With nothing left to distract me, I throw the trash in the garbage bin beside the house and lock up again before heading out to the Hart ranch.
For a moment after I’d asked her out, I wondered if telling her I’d pick her up was the best idea.
There’s always the chance that I’d run into Deacon, and although I know we need to talk about everything, including my accident, right before I go out with his sister is not the time.
Add in the fact that she wants to keep us under wraps for now, it’s risky that I’m picking her up.
But she didn’t protest and she hasn’t reached out, so I guess we’re sticking to the plan.
I can handle myself if I need to with Deacon.
A country rock song plays on the radio, and I tap my thumb on the steering wheel to the familiar beat as I turn onto the ranch driveway. There’s only one entrance, but it splits off to Maddie’s place just before the main ranch house, which means the likelihood of me being seen by Deacon is slim.
As I get closer to her place, I notice the red and white flashing lights reflecting on the trees around her house. A white EMS vehicle has been haphazardly parked outside. It sits crooked, as if whoever stopped it was in too much of a rush to care how it was left.
The hairs on my arms lift as my gut tightens. The silence in front of me feels wrong.
My pulse races as I grip the steering wheel a little tighter and force a sense of calm into myself. Get it together, Wyatt. I’ll be no use to Maddie if I start to panic.
Uncertainty skates down my spine and even as I try to convince myself that this could mean anything, I know in my gut that this is something bad. Something to do with Maddie.
I’m about to jump out of the cab of my truck when a hive of activity rushes through the front door.
Two EMTs wheel out a stretcher with a man strapped to it and lying motionless on it.
Maddie follows behind quickly, her eyes wide and her face red.
Even from here, I can see that her cheeks are tear streaked.
Something tightens in my chest. The pain sudden and visceral. I’m frozen, watching as they hurry to the ambulance. Flashes of memories flood my mind, and my throat clogs with emotion.
Twelve years ago, my dad was rushed from our home like this.
I remember the sirens. The waiting. The not knowing if he’d make it.
He’d been sick for years but had hidden it from everyone except my mom and Grayson.
His death is the reason I shut down, held myself back from letting anyone in.
I didn’t want to risk getting hurt when people could be ripped away from me so cruelly.
Not this time.
Maddie needs me and I’ll be damned if she deals with the pain and grief I know all too well alone. I ignore the doubt trying to worm its way in and telling me that she has her brothers and might not want me there. Instead, I act on instinct, the need to protect her clawing through my veins.
I throw my truck into drive and wind down the window as I pull up beside the ambulance. “Where are you taking him?”
“Beartooth,” the driver replies, before driving off and leaving me in their wake with a cloud of dust and the sound of their sirens blaring through the otherwise still day.
Stepping on the gas, I speed after them, making sure to keep up as I bury the worry that’s gnawing at me, clenching my jaw. I can deal with that later. Right now, Maddie and who I assume is her dad—I didn’t get a good look at his face as they wheeled him into the ambulance—are my priority.