Chapter Four
Yukon drove by his neighbor’s ranch, stopping on the road to see if Gage was finished for the night. He could see shadowy figures clamoring near the trucks, thanks to the powerful flood lights. The cattle had been corralled, so he knew his friend would be joining him for a few drinks.
His day had been extraordinary, and not in a good way. At least he’d set out and accomplished everything on his list. He touched the back of his head, some of his hair still encrusted with blood from the morning fight at the market. His cheek felt sore and swollen, too. Once he got home, he’d shower away the day and let time take care of his wounds.
A truck traveled up the long, dark drive, stopping once alongside his. “Ready for trouble?” asked Gage.
He leaned out his window. “Ready as I’ll ever be for a Monday.”
“Mack and Carlson are gonna meet up with us later at the Longhorn.”
Yukon put the truck into “drive.” He should have been heading home to sleep. And he needed to stop pretending everything was fine and have a serious talk with Parker. If they kept going down the same road, they’d be strangers before long.
The diner was only minutes away, doubling as the town bar by night. He turned to face the fields after slamming his door shut, pulling on his padded jacket. Pitch blackness blanketed the land, the tiny town the only light in the vast farming country. This community was his heart.
The rumble of Gage’s pick-up grew louder as it neared, the headlights bobbing up and down along the old dirt road.
He leaned against his tailgate as he waited. A few drinks with the guys was just what the doctor ordered. But he’d be lying to himself if he said this was the life he’d imagined for himself. A lot of the men he’d grown up with had families to go home to at the end of a long day. It would be nice to have someone waiting for him. The love of a good woman was more valuable than gold in these parts. Yukon wasn’t getting any younger, so even a family would soon be out of reach.
“How’d the repairs go?” asked Gage.
“It’s working. I’ll be testing it out first thing in the morning.”
“About time. I’m up to my ears in manure. I need it gone.”
They entered the diner together. The bright light and numerous voices were a welcome distraction from Yukon’s dismal thoughts. It was best to keep his mind busy so it didn’t have a chance to wander.
Gage nudged him in the ribs, bringing his attention to the group of outsiders busy drinking in the far corner. They liked to think of the Longhorn as their local hangout, not a tourist destination.
Yukon sat on a free stool, running a hand through his hair to keep it off his face. “Who’re our friends, Marcy?”
“Assholes would be a compliment,” she said. “I’m sure they’ll make a fuss when they realize I’ve cut them off.”
“Don’t worry. We’ll be here for a while,” said Gage.
She started setting out two white coffee mugs, but Yukon shook his head. “My day was too fucked up for coffee, darlin’.”
Marcy smiled and reached under the counter for the shot glasses.
“I haven’t seen Parker in a while. Where’s he at?” she asked.
“He’s one of the things I’m trying to forget.”
She filled the glasses with mind-numbing whiskey, giving him a wink before heading down the counter.
“How’s he healing up anyway?” asked Gage.
“Why does everyone know what Parker’s up to except me? I’m the one living with him.” He downed his shot and tapped the counter for another.
“Hey, I just saw him getting bound up at the doctors when I stopped by for my prescription. I don’t know any details. Didn’t even talk with him.”
“I imagine he’s riding bulls again. With the rodeo so close this year, it only makes sense.”
Gage shrugged off his overcoat and tossed it on the empty stool next to him. “You should have gotten yourself checked out today, but I’m guessing you didn’t.”
Yukon rubbed his face, his stubble already coming in thick. The blow hadn’t knocked him out, just stole his senses for a spell. “I’ll live.”
“If you say so.”
His attention was diverted to movement at the far end of the bar. “Who’s that?”
Marcy was back filling up their glasses. “Can’t say for sure. Definitely not from around these parts.”
The woman in question approached the counter from the bathroom. Her dark hair fell in soft waves over her shoulders. She was dressed in a body-hugging skirt suit, her legs going on forever. She was fucking perfect. And definitely not local.
“Holy shit,” Gage mumbled after spinning to face the woman.
“Hey, I saw her first.”
They both stared as she walked to the opposite end of the counter. Every step she took had him focusing on those lush curves. There weren’t many available women in their town. They were either married, close friends, or nothing to rouse his interest. This woman made his cock firm up without effort. She attempted to wiggle up onto a stool but her skirt was too tight. It was amusing watching her struggle. What was a city girl doing way out here?
Yukon decided she was waiting for her boyfriend. Not smart of him to leave her alone at this hour. Or in this shithole.
“Marcy, send her a drink. Tell her it’s from me,” said Yukon.
“You paying for that drink?”
He’d known Marcy all his life, but he still narrowed his eyes as if insulted.
“Okay fine, but I don’t expect she’ll be interested in the likes of either one of you.”
“Just give her the drink. Something fancy.”
Marcy walked over to the lone woman at the end of the counter, setting an open bottle of beer in front of her. The cute thing scowled at the offering and then turned to look at them with a look of pure evil. Fuck.
Gage laughed out loud and clapped him on the shoulder. “Sorry about that, buddy. The bad luck day must want to hang on ’til midnight.”
So much for getting lucky.
****
Robyn brushed the bottle of beer to the side. Her stomach was already complaining because she’d gone too long without eating. The smell of the alcohol under her nose nearly pushed her over the edge. When the waitress said the drink was from the hillbilly down the counter, she wanted to crawl into a hole and die. They were probably toothless with beer bellies and body odor strong enough to make her gag. The bigger one even had a black eye for God’s sake. She needed to get the fuck out of Dodge.
The crash of a wooden chair falling to the ground made Robyn jump. Several men stood up in the far corner, swearing and shouting. The bar suddenly felt way too small.
“I have the fucking money, so give me what I ordered!”
“Sorry, it’s time to go home, boys,” said the waitress. She looked so small and helpless with the group of drunken men around her, but she held her ground. Adrenaline flooded Robyn’s veins. What would happen if one of those jerks tried to hurt the waitress? Who would help her?
She planned to kill Shelly for this.
“Are you the law?” shouted another man. He stumbled back, grabbing his friend for balance.
Just when Robyn thought things were about to get completely out of control, the hillbilly and his friend casually slipped off their stools and moved toward the commotion. They didn’t appear as fazed as she felt, rather inconvenienced.
Once they approached the chaos, the drunks shifted their focus away from the waitress. Robyn exhaled in relief, deciding the distraction was a good time to get out of the bar. She’d be safer braving the coyotes than staying another minute in this redneck paradise. As she attempted to slip out unnoticed, a man was shoved into her. Her high heels didn’t offer much balance and she nearly toppled over—into the arms of another man.
“Well, hello, sunshine.” A couple more cowboys entered the diner, looking at her like she was fresh meat. She was surrounded. Robyn shrugged him off, walking backward as she felt for the door handle.
A beer bottle smashed, making her yelp.
“You’re scaring her, Carlson,” the hillbilly called out. “And keep your hands to yourself. She’s mine.”
Carlson chuckled, a deep rumbling sound. He brushed by her, unfazed, moving to the heart of the melee with the other newcomer. She turned around briefly before reaching for the door. There was a regular bar fight going down, fists flying, and bodies colliding. She wrenched open the door and rushed out into the cool night air, free at last. Robyn rested against the side of the building, leaning over her knees to catch her wits. This was bullshit. If she were home, she’d be climbing into her lush bedding about now. She barely had time to sort her thoughts when the door flew open and a body crashed onto the walkway with a loud thud. The other troublemakers were shoved outside, all swearing and protesting.
Robyn tiptoed away, desperate to stay hidden from sight. She pressed her back flat against the far end of the building, hoping the darkness and wooden support columns would conceal her. If Shelly showed up right now, she’d be so relieved to be rescued that she wouldn’t even complain about being left behind. Well, not at first. Please show up, please show up…
The men boarded their truck and sprayed gravel as they peeled off down the road into the darkness. Quiet returned to the night. She closed her eyes and exhaled, willing herself to stay calm and collected.
“You lost?”
Robyn’s heart jolted back to life as she opened her eyes and looked up, up, up. The hillbilly with the black eye was right in front of her. He was shadowed, only the light from the diner’s windows and door highlighting his frame, but she knew it was him. She refused to look him in the eyes, unwilling to antagonize the beast. How had he found her? Why hadn’t she heard his footsteps?
“Cat got your tongue?”
She bit the inside of her lip. How would she get out of this mess? Was he going to rape her? Chop her up and feed her to his pigs?
When he reached out and tilted her head up with a bent finger, the contact startled her. She attempted to bolt back, but she was already pinned against the building.
“I’m not the one you have to worry about, so no need to be skittish. What’s your name, darlin’?”
“R–Robyn.”
“I’ve never seen you around. You just passing through?”
She relaxed a degree. The calm tone of his voice was almost soothing after the night she’d had. “I’m waiting for someone.”
“Boyfriend?”
Robyn shook her head. “Business partners.” She rubbed her arms to stave off the chill.
“You shouldn’t be waiting outside. I promise there’ll be no more trouble inside tonight.”
She didn’t know what to do at this point. Then those hellhounds started howling again, singing to the moon.
Robyn gasped.
“Don’t you worry about them either,” he said.
How could he sound so confident? It was even enough to give her a false sense of security.
“Do you have a cell phone?”
His chuckle was a deep, all-encompassing sound. “Sorry. Don’t have one of those.”
He stepped back, tilted his hat, and began to walk away. She reluctantly followed him back to the entrance. Who doesn’t own a cell phone? The rowdy drunks had been scared off, so she supposed it was safer inside than it had been. She still wanted to be anywhere else.
Robyn slipped inside as he held open the door, rushing to her distant spot at the bar. She felt safer near the waitress, the only other female in the place.
When she turned to the side, he was sitting on a stool beside her, his three friends looking on from the other end of the counter.
“It’s getting late. You sure your business partners are going to show up?” His tone fueled the anger deep-seated in her gut—the anger ignited by Shelly’s abandonment, and her miserable predicament.
“I’m very sure.” She wouldn’t even bet on her chances at this point, but she felt the need to hide any weakness from this stranger.
“My name’s Yukon, by the way. You hungry? Thirsty?”
This time she turned her head enough to really take in the hillbilly for the first time. She was surprised when he didn’t match the horrific image she’d created in her mind’s eye. He was ruggedly handsome with piercingly blue eyes and dark shaggy hair. The five o’clock shadow was heavy across his jaw, and what she thought was a black eye was actually a bruised cheek.
In fact, his friends weren’t homely mountain men either, but appealing cowboys, tall and strong. Her dire predicament suddenly took an equally uncomfortable turn. She wasn’t attracted to working-class men. They were rough, dirty, and no-holds-barred—completely uncivilized. She couldn’t stand small towns or the people who lived in them. What she wanted was a man like Peter, a refined man with style and class. The fact her body was taking notice of Yukon, cataloging every masculine detail, was unacceptable.
“I don’t have my purse.”
He smirked. “That’s not what I asked you.”
Back home, Robyn took care of herself. She worked hard to portray herself as a confident, modern woman because appearances were everything. But for some reason, it wasn’t as easy to put on a front with Yukon. He made her feel feminine and submissive—all her insecurities open for inspection.
“Last call!” the waitress yelled. A collective groan resounded throughout the diner. She turned the television off, the sudden quiet making Robyn shudder. Shit! What would she do now? Her only safe haven was about to close for the night. If she was going to wake up from a nightmare, it needed to be soon.
She’d been so busy sorting her worried thoughts that she’d forgotten about the man beside her. When she turned slightly to see if he was still waiting for her to answer, he was staring. Why did he have to have such fuck-me eyes? And why was she thinking about sex when she had much more serious things to worry about? Her traitorous body was trying to unravel her.