Page 39 of Wild, Wild Cowboy

“Because I do.” She pushed up her glasses. “I asked around. Hurricane Red and the others that were bought for slaughterare being transported by Reliable Trucking. They’re headed to Canada, not Mexico.”

I closed my eyes. I wasn’t sure I wanted to know this. The details didn’t change anything. Canada or Mexico, Hurricane Red was still going to die.

“So, anyway,” Hannah continued. “If they’re going to Canada from here, then Calgary is the most likely slaughterhouse, which means that they’ll unload the horses at Shelby, Montana, where there’s a feedlot and horse assembly center.”

“What the hell is a horse assembly center—no, you know what? Never mind.” My appetite gone, I pulled the brim of my hat down over my eyes. “Why are you telling me all this?”

“Because Shelby is fourteen hours from here.”

I tilted my head up just enough to squint at her from under my hat. “Hannah.”

“No, listen.” She popped a fry into her mouth, wiped her fingers on a napkin, and pulled out her phone. “I had some time to kill while I was in line for our food, and I took notes. It’s a fifteen-hour drive, but if you’re hauling horses in a long trailer, it probably takes longer because you’re driving slower. RT left here with Hurricane Red less than an hour ago. There are laws about how many hours truckers can work, and how long they can drive. A workday is no more than fourteen hours, and they can only spend eleven of those hours driving, and that’s only if the driver has had a full ten-hour rest before he starts working.”

Jesus. “How did you learn all this?”

Her spine snapped straight like I had offended her. “I am alibrarian, Zack. Finding information is what Ido.”

Why was that so fucking hot? I grinned at her. “Damn, duchess. I’m impressed.”

“Good,” she said tartly. “You should be.”

“I am,” I assured her. “But I don’t see why trucking laws matter to Hurricane Red. He’s headed to a slaughterhousein Canada, and even if the driver gets to stop for a ten-hour rest, the horses don’t get unloaded until they reach their final destination.”

“That’s awful. You would think animal welfare laws would prevent that, even for animals sent to slaughter. Cruelty is cruelty.” She frowned. “But my point is that it’s only fourteen hours over two days, and there’s no way RT can get there before us, because his work day started a few hours before he got on the road with the horses, and he can’t drive more than eleven hours, anyway. When he gets to the horse assembly center, we’ll be there waiting, and we can just buy Hurricane Red back or something.”

What the hell was she telling me right now? She couldn’t mean?—

“It’s not too late to save him.” She leaned forward and grabbed my hand. “We can do this.”

I stared down at our hands. “It’s fourteen hours there and back. That’s nearly thirty hours. Four days of driving eight-hour shifts, at least. There could be accidents and delays that make the drive longer. You really want to do this?”

“I already asked someone to cover my Monday and Tuesday shifts at the library, and Essie said she’d feed my cats. And, look.” She showed me her phone screen. “I’ve got our route mapped out. We’ll go right by Yellowstone National Park, so even though it’s a long drive, at least it will be beautiful.”

Goddamn, this woman. She’d planned all this while I was throwing a tantrum? I’d shown her all my big, messy feelings and she hadn’t run away screaming. She’d donethis.

I swallowed hard. “Why? I mean, you don’t have to do this. I could bring you home first.”

“That would add at least another three hours to the drive,” she argued. “Anyway, you’re going to want to take breaks. We’llget there much faster if we take turns driving. I know you could do it alone, but why would you want to?”

I don’t want to. Why would I want to spend fourteen hours alone with my thoughts when I could have Hannah with me instead?

She nudged my boot with her own. “We’re friends, remember? Isn’t this what friends do?”

I smiled wryly. “I have lots of friends. I’m not sure any of them would volunteer to drop everything and drive to Canada to save a horse.”

“Well, then, you’ve never had a friend like me before,” she said.Ain’t that the truth. “But today’s your lucky day, because you do now.”

She kept using that word.Friend. I laughed, even though I still wasn’t sure how I felt about it.

“Come on, Zack.” She tugged at my hand. “Let’s go get your horse.”

15

HANNAH

James:

The quarantine stall is all ready for Hurricane Red. He’ll have a small paddock to himself, too.

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