Page 38 of High Velocity

I, on the other hand, work for my stepfather, live on his ranch rent-free, and have nothing more than my truck and my prosthesis to my name.

“It’s not the same,” I point out. “Not like I have much to offer.”

“Why the hell not?”

As old and frail as he’s getting, there is nothing wrong with Thomas’s volume, which has my mother sticking her head out the front door.

“Is everything okay? Oh hey, honey. Didn’t realize you were out here,” she directs at me. “Ama left enough food in the slow cooker for everyone.”

“I’ll take a pass,” I announce, taking the opportunity to get to my feet.

I need a shower and could use a long hard think about what the hell I’m doing, putting the moves on Stephanie. Because the old man is right about one thing; I am sweet on her, but that in itself is not enough.

She’s here only temporarily and as soon as she finds her feet will be back to the career she lives and breathes for. This thing with me has been a distraction—a little break from reality, like a vacation fling—but it has no future. Unfortunately, I’m afraid it wouldn’t stay a fling for me. Already I find myself more invested.

I should never have let down my guard.

Stephanie

“Come on, Ash. Let’s go.”

Jackson’s dog has been sniffing furiously around the base of that tree and won’t leave it alone. From the fresh scratches in the bark at least six feet off the ground and the clumps of fur sticking to the trunk, I’m guessing a bear was here recently.

I’m less worried about myself—I have my bear spray with me, and even slipped my gun in my pocket this time before heading back out on the trail—but I’m concerned about the rambunctious dog getting it in his head to face off with wildlife ten times his size. I wouldn’t put it past him.

Dammit, I wish dogs came with leashes like they do in the city. Here, most dogs are trained to follow and listen without one, except Ash isn’t listening much now.

“Ash, here!” I try again, this time my tone gets his attention.

I slap a hand on my thigh in encouragement. The dog takes one more longing look up in the tree, before finally turning toward me reluctantly.

I immediately turn on my heel and start walking back in the direction of the trailer. I need a bathroom and am not about to crouch down behind a tree. Not with bears around, thank you very much.

Also, I’ve seen what I’m pretty sure is poison oak or poison ivy, with the three leaves I was told to avoid. I’d rather not risk exposing my nether regions to that stuff. The memory of a particularly embarrassing episode at the summer camp my father sent me to when I was fourteen, and had the misfortune of innocently squatting in a patch of the stuff behind the girl’s lodge because I was too afraid to walk to the outhouse, is burned in my mind.

Glancing over my shoulder, I’m relieved to see Ash is following. Pretty soon he’s back out in front, sniffing blades of grass and low-hanging branches. He seems oblivious of the risks of squatting to do his business, and I’m glad we’re out here where I don’t have to pick up his poops.

The walk has helped to clear my head, which has been a little scrambled since Jackson left here last night. I had an amazing time with him and was on cloud nine as I was getting ready for bed, but the moment my head hit the pillow, doubts started creeping in, leaving me feeling vulnerable and a little raw, causing a minor panic attack. Emotions have been on a bit of a rollercoaster since then, making me feel unsettled.

I don’t have my shit together yet, I have no idea what my future is going to look like, I don’t have a clear path or a solid base, and I’m not sure how wise it is to start something new when I don’t even know where I stand on my own.

My feelings are already involved, but I need to be cautious letting things move ahead between Jackson and me. It’s so tempting to lean on him with all my weight, but he is a man who already has enough to carry on his shoulders. I need to find some solid footing of my own.

By the time I see glimpses of the trailer through the trees, the dog is trotting well ahead, like a horse smelling the stable. Then right in the bend, where the trail veers off to the house, Ash abruptly stops. He lifts up one of his front legs and perks his ears at something he sees up ahead. Next thing I know, he’s off running, his sharp bark echoing through the trees.

I don’t recognize the dark SUV parked next to my CR-V. Ash is barking furiously, jumping up against the vehicle, and I can just make out a figure behind the wheel. Shifting the bear spray to my left hand, I shove the right one in my pocket where it curls securely around the grip of my weapon.

The passenger side window on the SUV slowly slides down as I approach.

“Can you get your damn dog away from my door? He’s scratching up the rental.”

Fucking Ben Vallard.

Not that it’s a surprise he shows up in town—he told me as much—but how the hell did he find me? It’s not like I left a forwarding address with the Kalispell office, and I definitely never volunteered the specifics of where I’m staying to Ben. That wasn’t part of the plan. At least not mine.

“You wait there,” I snap at him, pulling Ash away from the vehicle.

I feel Vallard’s eyes on my back as I struggle to keep the dog under control while unlocking the front door. Hustling Ash inside, I slam the door shut behind us and hurry for the bathroom where I take care of my bursting bladder first.

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