Page 49 of The Cowboy and the Stray

I was damn certain she wasn't. "You ready for more?"

She nodded and looked braver than before.

We moved side by side, Tess gripping the horn like it might run off without her. Her ponytail bounced with every step, and I was half sure I'd be catching her again in another minute or two.

Panic picked up the pace, and Tess leaned in a little too far, swaying hard to the left. My hand snaked around her waist and steadied her, but we froze, bodies flush, the heat rolling off both of us. My whole world narrowed to the feel of her against me.

Damn, but that woman was gonna kill me in the best kind of way.

Half an hour later, an old tow truck rattled up as we returned to the barn. The whole rig was more rust than paint. "Sorry it took so long. Been backed up. Got good news and bad," Steven said, hat tipped over one eye. He was the one who'd towed her car off for us. And the only man I trusted to fix our vehicles. He was also the only mechanic in a fifty-mile radius, which is why it always took so long. "Bad is, that heap ain't worth fixing. Good is, I'll give you three-fifty for scrap. Woulda been four, but I charge a fifty-dollar convenience fee when the VINs been scraped." He gave her a squinty look.

Interesting. She'd removed the VIN from her car at some point.

Tess's face crumpled, like he'd kicked her teeth in. She looked at me with a question mark for a face.

"He's honest," I said quietly. "He wouldn't screw you."

She sighed and nodded. "I’ll take it," she said, her voice small enough to make my heart squeeze. I knew desperation when I saw it. I still didn't know her story, but every day that went by, I wanted to more and more.

She took the cash, her hand shaking a little as she signed the paper. Steven gave her a sympathetic nod and a creaky smile before heading out in a cloud of diesel and dust. Tess watched the truck until it disappeared, her whole body tense with some kind of bottled-up misery.

"Hey," I said, stepping closer. "It's not the end of the world. We'll find you something." I wasn't sure what, but the promise slipped out anyway.

Tess blinked, like she'd forgotten I was there. "Thanks," she said. Her eyes were too bright, too empty.

I tried to smile, feeling clumsy and useless.

"You ready for another ride tomorrow?" I asked, trying to change the subject. Her nod was faint. My own fears were getting tangled with hers.

I was still watching Tess walk back toward the house when I caught Reid's voice from behind. "Steven said he saw an oil truck pulling into Coleman’s as he came in."

Dread coiled in my gut. “They're bringing in contractors now?"

Reid spit into the dirt. "Looks that way."

I rubbed the back of my neck, knowing exactly what that meant. Oil brought money. Money brought strangers. Strangers brought attention, and attention was the last thing we needed.

"Damned Colemans," Reid muttered. "If they start fracking, I'm buying earplugs and a shotgun."

"One of those is helpful," I said. My eyes were still on Tess, watching her small shape shrink against the horizon.

Reid gave me a look and scuffed his boot. "Things get loud, I'm moving out."

I was thinking about the same thing. There weren't many places left for a pack to settle without fear of discovery. If drilling started, we'd have no choice but to run.

But the thought of leaving made my chest burn. There were a lot of people counting on me, but only one of them kept me up at night. One who'd be all alone if we left.

Reid crossed his arms. "You don't think this will blow over, do you."

"I don't," I said, not sure if I meant the oil or the feeling of trouble looming on the horizon.

Reid's shoulders tensed, the closest he ever came to showing emotion. He walked off without another word.

I watched as the afternoon sun sank lower in the sky. Shadows stretched long over the ranch, dark and foreboding. My thoughts kept circling like a vulture.

Oil meant money, strangers, and maybe even survival for a lot of local folks, but I knew what it meant for us. My head was already a mile down the road, wondering where to go next.

It wasn’t just the oil that bothered me, though. It was Tess. Her desperation. The way she’d looked at Steven, as if that three-fifty was the difference between life and death. It wasn’t just the car that scared her. She was running from something bigger. Something with teeth.