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Long Hard Fall Page 2
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Two houses—more like the trees surrounding the houses—came into view. The place on her left was concealed by a few rows of trees, but the place on her right was only partially blocked from view.
Which one should she choose? She slowed to a stop since no one else was on the road. The man who’d warned her of Cash Walker had said he lived… Dammit, she couldn’t remember. There goes her scatterbrain, as Ellis always said. She rolled her eyes at herself like she would’ve at him.
She picked the house on the right that didn’t have as many trees. It was more sensible to approach strange men out in the open.
Her parents would die eighty deaths if they knew what she was up to. Ellis was supposed to have accompanied her, but he’d had a shit-fit. Didn’t stop her, though. Her family had only gotten vague stories about her brother’s death, and she wanted closure. Needed it. She couldn’t be Responsible Abbi when her mind hounded her for answers. Something deep inside drove her to seek out her brother’s old army buddies, and if that meant knocking on the doors of random farmers, so be it. She’d find Reno Walker from Moore, Minnesota, and she’d get the full rundown of how her brother had died.
She turned into the drive. At first glance, the yard appeared cluttered, but it was actually neatly fenced off. Pens and corrals ran parallel to the road. Stacks of hay three bales high rimmed one edge of the property. A long barn separated the pens from the yard. Another huge barn also had fences coming off it and horses meandered around inside.
Parking in front of the house, she didn’t get out and it wasn’t because her food threatened to heave. She was looking at the cutest old farmhouse she’d ever seen; not even her grandparents’ house had been as adorable. Two stories high, painted white with yellow shutters, it was picturesque, but it was the wraparound porch that Abbi would kill for. Any direction, point your rocking chair and chill. Fantasies of sketching the horizon while the sun set dominated her thoughts. Summer nights would be divine.
How long since she’d sketched? Since they’d received the dreaded knock on the door announcing Perry’s death.
She climbed out and expected to be hit with the smell of manure, but fresh country air was all that greeted her.
Her breath hitched. This was it. Her first step on her hunt for Reno.
She knocked on the door. And waited. And waited. Knocked again. Rang the doorbell. Nothing.
Frowning, she pivoted and scanned the yard.
An obnoxiously large pickup sat outside the long barn. Must be the thing for the guys around here. She had a vague recollection of climbing into a truck just as big last night. Knowing she’d be in no shape to drive, she’d chosen a place close enough to walk, totally not planning on hooking a ride back. She pushed the thought away. Her hot hookup would only distract her.
A horse whinnied. Was someone down there?
She eyeballed her shoes. Should she dig out her boots? Well, it wasn’t like she was going tromping through manure. She just had to flag someone down to let them know she was here and wanted to talk.
Nimbly, she picked her way over the gravel driveway that led to the barn.
The deep rumble of a man’s voice and a horse’s answering whinny sounded deep inside the barn. Straw littered the floor; she chose her steps carefully. The far barn door was open and she spied movement.
Peeking around the corner, she was impressed by the sight.
“Whoa, Patsy Cline. Calm down, girl.” A man with surprisingly broad shoulders sat astride a massive brown horse. His back was to her with the sun blazing behind him, so she couldn’t distinguish specific features other than an amazing body and voice. She shaded her eyes, but her headache roared back to do an I-told-you-so that she should’ve drunk more water.
God, that voice. Yummier than the one she remembered from last night. Or the one she heard in her hangover-fogged state this morning. But she wasn’t running out on this guy. To get the information she needed, she’d be staying to chat for a while.
The horse’s rear end swung to the side and it shook its big head while the mesmerizing guy murmured encouraging words.
She didn’t know if this was a bad time, but she knocked lightly. The sound didn’t carry over the horse’s scratching hooves.
She knocked louder and the man’s head whipped around. She was nailed with a vivid blue gaze.
Her stomach plummeted and her mouth dropped open. She squeaked.
Oh. My. God.
No.
***
A slow grin spread across his face. “Well, well. We meet again.”
Her mouth hung open while she gaped at him. Ordinarily, if a girl stalked him home, he’d be panicking, but the look on Abbi’s face was too filled with horror.
He swiveled Patsy Cline around and patted her neck. “Good girl.” But he didn’t take his eyes off Abbi. Didn’t want to. In the dim motel room, she was smokin’, but her ethereal beauty was enhanced in the light of day. Her hair had dried and hung in soft waves around a face that’d gone pale.
Her mouth snapped shut. She frantically looked around, as if searching for anyone else to talk to. One hand flew to her lips and the other to her abdomen. Then she abruptly turned into the barn and heaved.
Cash’s brows flew up. Patsy Cline shifted underneath him, sensing the disturbance. He dismounted and tied her off on the side of the corral. He stole a second to soothe his horse before he checked on the sick woman.
Horrible retching came from Abbi as she lost the contents of her stomach. He rushed to her side and ignored the mess at her feet, more concerned about her being ill than having muck to clean.
“Oh my god, I am so sorry.” She wiped her mouth on her sleeve and a blush stained her cheeks. At least she’d gotten some color back.
“I’ll throw some straw on it and shovel it out. No need to worry. Are you feeling okay?”
She nodded, then winced. “Too much to drink last night.”
What? “Honey, you didn’t seem that bad off, and you only had a couple beers while we were chatting.” Before she’d beckoned him back to her room, where he’d burned through his stash of condoms.
“I had a few before you showed up.” She buried her head in her hands and backed away from the spew on the ground. “And a couple of shots before supper.”
“Whoa.” He used the same tone he had used on his horse. Abbi’s gaze darted all over like she was about to flee. “I swear, if I’d thought you were wasted, I wouldn’t have taken you up on your offer.”
It’d have killed him to miss out on her banging body, but he was into fully conscious partners only.
She waved him off. “Not your fault. I hold my alcohol well. Until I don’t. I…gotta go.”
She was getting away from him. Again. When she stumbled slightly, he swooped in to pick her up.
“Oh.” She pushed at his chest, her expression full of dismay. “Don’t do that. I stink.”
He smiled in reassurance. Vomit smell or not, it didn’t decrease her appeal. “I’ll take you to the house and you can clean up while I get my mare settled.” Worry plagued him. Patsy Cline wasn’t acting right, but he needed to take care of Abbi first. “Then you can tell me why you’re here.”
She relaxed into him like she had when they’d been alone in her room. He’d been reliving it all freaking morning.
He aimed straight for his house, juggled her while finagling the handle, and nudged the door open with his boot. Abbi’s color was stabilizing, her healthy glow returning.
Settling her on the couch, he said, “Use what you need; I’ll be right back.”
The burn of her eyes licked his back as he walked out the way he’d come. Why did he have to be so aware of her?
He gauged the time. The horses had been fed and the section fence repaired. He should be meeting up with Dillon to give him a break from the combine. Patsy Cline had delayed him when he’d noticed she wasn’t interested in her food and was pawing at the ground. He’d been trying to get her back into the stall to monitor her symptoms when Ab
bi had interrupted.
He jogged to the barn and unhooked his horse. She was whinnying and pawing hard. He managed to get the suffering horse into a stall before she decided to drop and roll.
Hell, that was a bad sign. Withdrawing his phone, he hit speed dial. “Hey, Doc, it’s Patsy Cline.”
He rattled off the symptoms and hung up. Torn between his sick horse and a sick Abbi, he sighed. Doc would take care of Patsy Cline; he’d have to take care of Abbi.
On his way back to the house, he texted Dillon about the colic and the vet but didn’t mention the woman on his couch. When he got inside, the couch was empty. Sounds of splashing water came from the small bathroom in the narrow hallway.
He was used to entertaining his cousins but was at a loss for what to do in this situation. He stared at his boots for a few moments, trying to come up with something to do while waiting.
Water.
He went into the kitchen to pour a glass of water. Coming back into the living room, his steps loud on the hardwood, he heard the bathroom door squeak open. Abbi couldn’t sneak away in this old house.
“I have some water for you.” He set it on the end table.
Abbi scooted around him and settled on the edge of the couch with her small suitcase at her feet. She must’ve grabbed it while he’d been wrestling with his horse. Her sweatshirt this time was a black hoodie with neon trim. Yoga pants showed off her legs, and athletic shoes capped off the look. Sporty was the only style he’d seen her in, but she did it well.
Her face pinched. “I’m so sorry about the barn.”
“Don’t worry. Pull out a few calves stuck in the birth canal and puke won’t bother you.”
Her lips curled in disgust. “Uck, I’ll pass. But it’s still embarrassing.”
He had so many questions. Why’d you leave this morning? Why’d you invite me back for some fun between the sheets in the first place? But he started with the most pressing. “So, what are you doing out here? Did you get lost?”
She shook her head. “No, I came to Moore looking for one of my brother’s friends. Two, actually.”
“Did they leave you hanging at the bar last night?”
Several expressions traveled across her lovely features. “No, I was…drowning my sorrows, you could say. I planned to go searching today and—” she spread her hands, “—here I am.”
He reclined against the wall with his arms crossed. She hadn’t seemed sad last night. “And your search brought you to me. Who’s your brother?”
“Yeah, I need directions to the guys my brother served with. My brother’s name was Perry Daniels.”
Chapter Three
His expression went blank. Dammit, why couldn’t she remember his name? Had she screamed it at some point last night? The more she was around him, the more flashes of memory she experienced. Especially when she’d been cradled against his strong chest. Lots of naked images had bombarded her mind then.
She wanted more.
But she was here for a much different reason. “I know only one guy’s full name, but their last name is Walker. No one I’ve talked to knows who Reno Walker is, but they said the Walkers live out this way.” Why hadn’t she asked him last night how she could find Reno Walker? Because she’d been medicating her anger with copious amounts of alcohol. And then he’d taken her mind off…everything. “So, I guess I’ll ask you. Do you know who Reno is?”
He shifted his stance and briefly looked away. He swallowed hard.
“You aren’t Reno, are you?” She kept her tone hopeful over the dread crawling its way up her throat. Why was he acting like he didn’t want to tell her?
He lost the strange expression and shot her a forced smile. “You know my name.”
Her face must’ve revealed her alarm because he looked away and shook his head. A muscle in his jaw tensed and relaxed.
“You don’t remember.”
“It’s coming back, slowly.” Probably as much as it ever would.
“You were blackout drunk?”
“No.” Kinda.
His look said he didn’t believe her. “Are you even okay to be driving yet?”
“I get a little sick when I drink and I’m paying for it.” Oh god, had she slept off enough before she’d rushed out of the hotel room? She hadn’t been dizzy, but that wasn’t the best estimate of intoxication. “Now, can we get back to Reno? Where can I find him?”
He swung his empty stare down the hallway for a few heartbeats. “You found him.”
She glanced around, like a new dude would suddenly appear. But it was just her handsome hookup.
“You’re Reno?” Oh. Oh hell. Only she would have the misfortune to pick up her brother’s friend. Her epic episode of irresponsibility had just reached new heights.
What would Perry have thought? He hadn’t been a fan of Ellis, but to run right into his buddy’s arms…
“That’s a name I haven’t heard in a long time. It was my nickname. I’m Cash, by the way.” His bitter tone wasn’t lost on her.
Cash. Double hell. The only man she’d ever been warned away from and she’d picked him up first.
Cash Walker was Reno Walker. Elation replaced mortification.
“I found you,” she breathed. It couldn’t be this easy, could it? She wouldn’t have to scour the town. It was unfortunate she’d picked him up at the bar, but here they were.
He shoved his hands into his pockets and turned to glower out the large picture window. “You found me all right.”
Was that resentment? She didn’t care; she couldn’t care.
“Why did my brother call you Reno?”
He glanced over his shoulder, his eyes nearly glowing from the sunshine. He hadn’t taken his hat off, but the blue of his irises radiated from under the brim. If he smiled, he’d probably devastate whoever he aimed it at. No wonder she’d been warned off. He probably galloped through women’s beds.
“Because I get lucky all the time.”
Nailed it. But he didn’t sound proud.
“And because my cousin was a team leader in the same platoon, so it was how the guys kept us straight,” he finished. “And because we were stationed together for the last four years, which probably had worse odds of happening than winning the lotto. They just thought I was all around lucky I guess.”
“Did you two get out of the army after…after, uh…” Unbidden tears sprang up and she hastily wiped them away. This wasn’t how she’d pictured it all going. Throwing up in the man’s barn, then barely being able to speak when she tried to talk about what she’d come here for.
“Yeah.” His voice was thick. “Dillon and I enlisted at the same time, so we got out at the same time.”
She nodded woodenly. He stood quietly. She ran her hand along the fabric of the couch, the smooth texture doing nothing to lull her conflicted emotions.
“You’re Daniels’s little sis, huh.”
“Yep.” Now that she was here, she was at a loss for what to do. She couldn’t just blurt out the question that had been haunting her. “Are you and your cousin doing okay?”
His broad shoulders tightened in his long sleeve shirt. “Yeah, we’re fine. Work keeps us busy, and I’ll take slinging cows around over humping seventy pounds of equipment through the desert any day.”
“Perry said he hated all the sand and heat, wished he’d never gone into the infantry.”
Cash grunted. “That makes two of us.”
“What happened?” Oops. She’d blurted it anyway.
He sighed and faced her. “Didn’t they tell you?”
“They told me you guys were clearing a building and he set off an IED.”
“Then you know what happened.”
“Do I?”
“I don’t know what you’re looking for, Abbi. I’m sorry. I relive it—”
A honk from outside cut him off.
“That’s the vet. I gotta go out and meet her.” He charged out the door. Abbi jumped up to chase after him. She was finally digging into w
hat she was here for, and he was running away.
A cute woman who looked way too short to drive the size of pickup she did hopped down and greeted Cash with a big smile. He walked toward her with his arms wide, and the woman laughed and jumped into them.
Abbi refused to be jealous, especially after she’d run from a naked Cash hours ago. But she increased her pace out of curiosity.
The woman pounded Cash heartily on the back before releasing him. She was older than Abbi had previously thought. Somewhere in her thirties, but her curves couldn’t be denied. When her gaze landed on Abbi, she cut off mid-sentence.
Cash glanced at Abbi, exasperation in his eyes. “Doc, this is Abbi, the sister of an old army buddy. Abbi, this is Dr. Bonita Wilson.”
The vet’s expression grew serious and speculative. She stuck her hand out. “Nice to meet you. Just call me Bunny. I’ll even forgive you a giggle about the irony of a vet named Bunny.”
Abbi couldn’t help her smile as she shook hands.
Bunny switched her attention to Cash. “You said it was Patsy Cline. Afraid she has colic again?”
“I tried to ride her, but she wasn’t acting right. I hadn’t noticed when I was feeding her, but I should’ve.” He gave Abbi a sidelong look. “I was distracted.”
Bunny grinned and wiggled her brows as she turned to head to the barn.
Abbi kept up with them and crossed her fingers that her vomit mess had been cleaned away. She suppressed a sigh of relief. Cash had been true to his word.
“Oh my, poor girl.” Bunny crooned and comforted the horse as she inspected her.
Abbi jumped when Cash’s hot breath wafted over her earlobe. “You don’t have to wait here. This might take a while.”
The man could move with stealth. “I don’t mind. Or am I interrupting something?” Had that come out catty?
“You aren’t interrupting a thing,” Bunny piped up from in the stall. “He can tell you about all the times I almost swatted his bottom at the pranks he pulled.”
Cash chuckled and the low sound gave Abbi shivers. Oh yeah, there was another memory of last night.
“It was Mom’s fault for putting you in charge of me and Sissy when you were only six years older.”