“Dad said he needed to replace some wire on the western fence,” she said as she powered the phone on. “Mom’s probably helping him.”
Wyatt frowned. “I could have helped him.”
Cara glanced over at him, a faintly amused smile tugging at her lips. “You think my mom doesn’t know how to stretch fence?”
“I think your mom can do anything,” he replied without missing a beat. “I’m only saying I would have been happy to help.”
“And I’m sure they’d appreciate the offer, but they know you’re here on other business.”
She jolted and they both looked down as the phone in her hand emitted several short bursts of vibration. “Someone was looking for you,” he said grimly. “Was it your folks?”
Cara’s lips thinned into a tight line. “No.”
She snapped the word off so sharply, he checked her again. “Do I need to pull over?”
“It’s nothing. More text messages from my biggest fans,” she said, her voice tight with bitterness.
He reached over and took the phone from her hand. A quick glance showed a string of text messages from a variety of area codes. A surge of anger pulsed through him. He wanted to pull over to read them, but the stretch of road they were on had little to offer in terms of a shoulder. So he opted for the second-best thing. He pressed and held the power button as he maneuvered a curve one-handed.
“What did they say?” he demanded in a growl.
“I only saw the notification windows, but they looked to be more of the same. I don’t deserve my share of LYYF. I should leave the company to the real geniuses. Blah blah blah,” she muttered, turning to look out on a broad swatch of pastureland. “I’m so tired of it all,” she whispered.
Without thinking, he dropped the phone back into the console and reached across to place a steadying hand on her leg. The moment his palm landed she tensed and he froze for a beat. Then he jerked his arm back, gripping the steering wheel like a fifteen-year-old angling for a learner’s permit.
“Sorry,” he breathed. “I didn’t mean—”
“It’s okay,” she said, trampling his apology. “And I know. I appreciate you being here. I appreciate everything you’re doing, Wyatt.” She angled to look directly at him. “I hope you know I do.”
“I do.”
A horn blared and he glanced up into the rearview mirror. “Holy cow, this guy needs to slow down,” he muttered, inching the SUV to the right as a sleek silver sports car swerved into oncoming traffic to pass. “Double yellow, dude,” Wyatt complained, gesturing to the markings on the road.
“Missouri plates,” Cara observed as the car dropped back into the lane in front of them.
The driver immediately ran up on the bumper of the next car ahead of them. The coupe was so low-slung the driver was barely visible over the headrest. Cara gripped the door handle. Wyatt tightened his hands on the wheel, half-expecting to witness a terrible accident as the erratic driver overtook car after car, heedless of the rules of the road.
“Wanna throw your cop light up onto the roof and go after them like on TV?”
He shot her a wry smile but kept their speed steady as the other car disappeared over a hill. “Sadly, this ride didn’t come equipped with a cop light.”
“So sad.”
Wyatt shook his head in wonder as the line of traffic shaken by the aggressive driving of the speeder settled into a more sedate pace.
They rode in silence for a couple miles. Then turning her attention back to the road, she pointed to a blur of a highway sign. “If you turn off on 14, we can come in the back side. It’s hilly and curvy, but it’s a pretty drive and we could check to see if Mama and Daddy are in the west pasture on our way to the house.”
“Sounds good.”
They drove into the small town of St. Joe in tight silence. Theclick-clickof the turn signal sounded almost laughably loud to his own ears. Ryan Hastings’s warnings about getting too attached to a primary while on protection duty reverberated in his brain. Then again, Ryan knew the dangers firsthand. He’d fallen for Kayla Powers while trying to protect her from a murderer, given up his career with the state police and moved to Bentonville to help her raise the baby she hadn’t known was on the way at the time of her late husband’s death.
“Cara, I shouldn’t have—”
“Please don’t, Wyatt,” she cut him off, the words quiet but firm. She reached over and placed her hand on his arm. “I don’t want things to be awkward between us. I feel... Can’t we...?” She stumbled to a stop as he slowed to make the turn onto the narrow secondary road. “I didn’t mind. Okay? It’s... Wow, things are complicated right now, and I don’t—”
“You don’t have to say anything more,” he interrupted.
“Well, it seems like one of us does,” she countered. “Sheesh, I mean...how ’bout them Hogs?”