Page 68 of Buck ’Em Cowgirl

I never stayed friends with the girls I hooked up with before.

Maybe that was the problem.

“Are you sure you guys don’t want to bunker down here? It’s thundering pretty bad,” Harleigh asked, but I was already reaching for my hat.

“Nope,” I said, settling it on my head. “Besides, isn’t it y’all’s first day of work tomorrow?”

“It is. Maribel’s going to walk us through how the stock auctions work and what exactly they want from us,” Harleigh said, grabbing Fable’s bag.

Fable nodded. “Beau’s right. I should get home. It’s not that far, and I’m sure it’ll let up.”

“It’s a straight shot down the road.” I smiled, reaching for an umbrella from the holder near the front door. “We’ll be borrowing this, though.”

“No problem,” Roger chuckled from behind us as he pulled Fable into a quick hug.

“Nice to see you, kid.”

“You too.”

“Don’t be a stranger.”

“I won’t.”

She turned, her hair catching in the dim porch light as I pushed open the door, the storm still rumbling in the distance.

I stepped out first, popping open the umbrella as the rain pattered against the porch steps. Fable hesitated for a second, then moved under it, close enough that I could smell the faint hint of vanilla and strawberries.

Keeping the umbrella tilted to cover her more than myself, I walked her to the truck, the gravel slick beneath our boots. I pulled open the door, shielding her from the worst of the downpour as she climbed in.

“You sure it’s okay to drive?” She glanced out at the sheets of rain blurring the road.

I shook off some of the droplets clinging to my sleeve. “I’ve got precious cargo. I’ll make sure to go slow.”

The corners of her lips curled into a soft smile, but I didn’t linger. Just shut her door and made my way to the driver’s side, ready to get us the hell out of here.

The truck rumbled to life, headlights cutting through the dense curtain of rain as I eased us onto the main road. The downpour instantly intensified, sheets of water hammering against the windshield. The wipers flew back and forth in a desperate attempt to keep up, but it was useless. Visibility shrank to almost nothing, the road ahead blurred by relentless waves of rain.

My grip tightened on the wheel.

Everything outside was chaotic—the wind howling, rain lashing against the truck, the tires kicking up water from the flooded asphalt. The storm had turned violent in an instant, and my pulse pounded in my throat. This was bad. Worse than I’d expected. I wasn’t about to admit it out loud, but I sure as hell felt it, the unease clawing its way up my spine.

And then⁠—

A blinding strike of lightning split the sky, hitting the open field beside us with a deafening crack.

Fable shrieked, hands flying to her face.

On instinct, I yanked the wheel, pulling the truck into the nearest driveway, gravel skidding beneath the tires as we came to a jerking stop. I kept us far enough away from any trees but close enough to the highway so that we could pull out quickly when the storm passed.

My breath was heavy, pulse hammering, but my first thought wasn’t the storm. It was her.

“Hey now,” I whispered, reaching over without thinking, my fingers finding her arm. “It’s okay.”

“It’s not okay.” She gestured wildly outside. “It’s a fucking tsunami.”

I chuckled. “It’s just a big downpour.”

She shot me a sharp look. “We almost got struck by lightning.”