Page 57 of Rescued By the Mountain Man

“Hungry?” Warrick asked.

“Maybe later.”

After getting some drinks, we passed by the mechanical bull. While a tall, lanky teen clambered onto its leathery back, Warrick led me over to the large campfire with seats all around it. “Let’s look around first.”

Carnival music and the chatter of the crowd swirled around as we traipsed to the grounds, the livestock barns and buildings filled with exhibits. We saw sheep, calves, and dairy goats in corrals, big bulls, brushed dairy cows, and randy steers. The scent of dry earth mixed with the alfalfa hay, manure, and horseflesh.

Judges passed by carrying clipboards. Beyond that were the horse barns, which were not far from the grandstands and arena. I turned around and ran into someone, a tall man.

“I’m sorry—” but I froze in place.

The man’s eyes were green and gray—the same color of eyes I’d tried to claw out that fateful night. In seconds, I was thrown back to that night, the fear, the frenzy, but he turned away without a flicker of recognition.

“Zoe?” Warrick came around and handed me a large cup of sweet tea. “Is something wrong?”

“N-no,” I said, forcing my attention back to him. “I just got distracted for a moment.”

His brows lowered as he looked over to the man who was quickly disappearing into the crowd, but then back to me. “Okay, c’mon.”

I tried to enjoy the fair, the music, the laughter, the happy atmosphere—but that glimpse of the man with the same eyes as my would-be murderer rested like a brick on my chest. I couldn’t concentrate—had they found me? Had my cover been blown?

“Do you want to go on any rides tonight?” Warrick asked.

“I don’t think so,” I replied. “I did like the carousel and coasters as a kid, but growing up, I took the freefall and reverse bungee.”

His hand was on the small of my back. “You’re a daredevil at heart, eh?”

“Yes.” The wind picked up my hair and chilled my neck. “What about you?”

“You’ll have to give me some incentive to get my ass back on one of those death traps,” Warrick laughed.

“I can think of a few things,” I smiled, attempting to flirt while licking my lips.

A ragtag group of kids ran around us, and Warrick tugged me close, placed his lips on my ear, and said, “Not suitable to discuss in an amusement park with kids around, but get me somewhere alone and game on.”

Giggling, I liked how he teased me and made me feel cared for and appreciated. Regardless of his true feelings—maybe this was a fling, maybe this was a sixteen-night stand, or maybe it was more—but he made me feel loved, something I hadn’t felt in a long time. And as for Warrick, I’d never seen this side of him; he’s so playful and fun.

“I need to use the ladies’ room,” I said.

As he stayed near the stands, I went off to find the bathrooms. Thankfully, there was no long line, and I stepped inside to do my business. As I stepped out to wash my hands, another man bumped into me; he was a redhead—but Jesus, his eyes were green and gray.

“Watch where you’re going,” he huffed.

“We’ll never stop looking for you!” the man growled. “We’ll find you and we’ll kill you.”

Was that the same voice?

Was that the same timbre?

Was that the same man?

Once again, I felt an invisible hand punch the air out of my lungs. I didn’t like this. Rattled, I found my way back to Warrick as he led me to the stands. “It’s bull riding time.”

I held his hand. “Are you sure you want to watch this?”

“I’m a big boy,” he said. “I can take it.”

Could he? When a white bull started banging around in the chute, the handlers started dodging his horns and hooves—and Warrick tensed. As soon as the rider touched him, the bull seemed to have a rocket latched to its back as it leaped like a demented sonofabitch. Thirty seconds later, the gate was thrown open, and a cream-colored bull surged out with the rider on his back.

---