Page 34 of Drifter’s Heart

“I know,” I mutter, half to myself, shoving my truck into second gear far too early. The gear box crunches and my black Ranger bunny hops its way along the road.

Dressed in her super-short jumpsuit and a hoodie that nearly covers the entire outfit plus hiking boots—her practical side showing—Winnie slides down in the passenger seat.

“Hey, my driving isn’t that bad,” I protest, getting my shit under control by the time we’re halfway across town.

“It’s so bad,” she mutters, fiddling with her phone on her lap. “I’ll never be able to park my ambulance near my house ever again.”

I shoot her a hard look as she flips the phone over and over, then squeezes it. And it hits me that this conversation isn’t about my sorry-ass driving at all. Or at least, it’s not only about my driving.

“I’m sorry I broke the news about Lanie in such a shitty way.” I rub my knuckles across the back of her hand when she doesn’t respond.

Winnie shrugs. “I mean, I would have found out, anyway. How far along is she?” she asks casually.

I keep my eyes on the road, thinking of Sally staying at Coyote for the next few nights and how much Winnie and her daughter share between themselves. My jaw locks. I force the words out as gently as I can.

“Four months, if I haven’t screwed that up.” I count back in my head. I think that’s right.

Winnie doesn’t move. Hell, I don’t think she breathes.

“I’m sorry, Winnie⁠—”

“I spoke to her, just days ago,” she interrupts me. “We talked about inane shit. What she’s doing at Coyote. Why she can’t come back to see me. Her research, the university’s expectations. The wolves and their new pups. Ha. All the reasons.”

I choke the steering wheel on her behalf. Yeah, Cord gave me the same spiel about why I didn’t get leave for my own project to Haiti. I found a way to go anyway. All it cost me was my place on the land I loved as much as the man, but, hey, I built a bridge. Whaddya know.

“Where are we going?” Winnie looks over at me curiously, and I wonder how long I’ve been lost in my own head.

I push my crap away, focusing on the curly-haired woman I’ve been obsessed with for far too long, and drop a hand to the gear shift, though I don’t reach for her. I figure she’s had enough of me clinging to her body for the past hours—is that all it’s been? Fuck.

“Bilkhorn. It’s a… town. Up north.” I shoot her a glance. She seems okay now that we’ve changed topics. I don’t want to drag her back into the emotional quagmire of abandonment we’re both feeling right now. “Have you heard of it?”

Winnie shakes her head and settles back, tossing her phone onto the dash, out of reach as it buzzes. She doesn’t grab for it immediately. “Nope.”

“All right. I’m gonna stop for coffee, then you can get some shut-eye, okay?”

She slaps at my arm. “You just had coffee. Wasn’t mine good enough?”

I bark a laugh. “I’ll drink whatever you put in front of me, including poison.” I catch her hand midslap this time and pull her close enough to kiss her knuckles without taking my eyes off the road. “The coffee and nap are for you.”

She huffs but doesn’t object. “Are you going to be okay for a long haul, cowboy?”

I smirk at her acceptance of the date I’ve proposed without giving her a single detail. “You need a teddy bear, sister, I’m right here.”

Winnie fusses as I get her coffee from a drive-through, ordering herself the biggest frappe she can get her hands on with as many shots of cold-pressed coffee as the shop allows.

As we pull away, she edges closer, letting her thigh rest against mine across the bench seat. I revel in the sensation of her bare skin against the borrowed jeans I tucked my ass into, even though they’re a bit tight.

“Better?” I sling an arm across her shoulder.

She nods, settling into my side. “Only because I’m going to burn those damn shorts later.”

“Whatever makes you happy, Rand.”

“You’re the one wearing his jeans.”

For once, the burn doesn’t sting, not so long as my girl is tucked into my side. She’s fed and warm and sleepy as the road opens out before us and my tires eat the miles to come.

“Bilkhorn is a… ghost town?” Winnie slides down from my truck, staring around at the row of buildings on the side of the rise and the overgrown street that once ran between them.