Page 17 of The Runaway and the Rugged
“Garth, do you copy? I repeat, do you copy? We have a serious fucking situation right now,” Greta’s distressed voice came through my walkie-talkie, hindering my movements.
Fuck. What now?
“Code red, Garth, code re?—”
Pressing the button, I quickly cut off her rambling. “Code red? What the hell does that mean? We don’t have a code red?”
Placing the bucket down beside my feet, I wiped the bead of sweat from my brow with my sleeve.
“The bride,” she responded sharply, blatant worry coating her words. “The goddamn bride is missing and the groom is seconds away from strangling someone.”
What?
I hoped to fuck she wasn’t referring to herself as that someone.
“I’ve been running around in circles trying to find her.” She paused, then a series of shuffles filled the air as if she were walking. “Garth, I don’t know what to do, I’ve looked everywhere but no one has seen her in over an hour…”
“Okay, first of all, slow down and take a deep breath,” I demanded before she spiraled any further. Then letting her have a moment to decompress, I began to make my way toward the stables. “Now start from the very beginning and tell me what the hell is going on.”
“I went to check on the bride, but she wasn’t in her room. I didn’t worry too much about it, thinking maybe she was with someone and lost track of time.” Her voice wobbled with the sounds of chatter lingering in the background. “But the longer I searched and asked around, the more worried I got.”
“And you’re sure you checked everywhere?” I swung open the stable doors and headed toward the back.
“Everywhere she might be, yes. Unless…”
“The groom? He doesn’t have any clue as to where she could be?” I caught the attention of a few horses as I passed by, and when I stopped in front of my girl Ella’s stall, she immediately turned her body around to greet me.
“No, he says he hasn’t spoken with her since yesterday.”
In a matter of only a few seconds, I grabbed a saddle off the rack and stepped inside Ella’s stall. She let out a few huffs and nudged my arm with her muzzle before letting me place the saddle onto her back.
“Garth, I’m really trying to remain calm right now, but with this rich prick breathing down my neck looking for his bride and the wedding guests wondering what the hell is going on… I don’t… I really need you…”
The mention of the rich asshole had me pausing. With one foot in the stirrup and my hand clenching tightly around the walkie-talkie, I moved it closer to my mouth.
“He near you right now?” I asked, hoping to hell he was within earshot.
“Um, kind of, but he can’t hear me.”
She knew what was about to happen. I may have been the most levelheaded Calhoun, but when it came to my family, I didn’t fuck around. Especially when it came to Greta and my daughter. I was protective of them both, and knowing that this asshole was hounding my sister over something that wasn’t her fault had my blood simmering.
All the time and energy she had put into this, not to mention all the bullshit we had endured because of this wedding, and still he wanted to act like a douche?
“Get closer to him and make sure he can hear me.” I used my foot on the stirrup to pull myself up.
I didn’t get a response back, but I knew she was following through with what I told her.
“Garth?” My name came out unsteady and shaky, and that was all I needed to fuel my fire.
“I’m here. I’m takin’ Ella out on the trails to go look for her and once I do find her, and believe me I will, I’m turnin’ this damn radio off,” I declared, emphasizing my words with a steely voice. “And If I were the groom, I’d spend a little less time asking others where the bride is and start asking myself why the hell she’s missin’ in the first place.”
Not wastin’ time to hear what kind of excuses he’d come up with, I cranked the volume down on the walkie-talkie and lunged up onto the saddle, just waiting for this damn day to be over with.
The sun was beginning to set just beyond the mountain peak, creating an orangish-yellow glow across the trail and wildflowers that straddled it. It was the perfect late afternoon, but I knew better than anyone that in only a couple hours,when the sun was finally down, this breathtaking trail turned treacherous.
Snakes, scorpions, you fuckin’ name it.
It was named Dead Man’s Pass for a reason, but without a sign, it may have well been something innocent like Bluebonnet Bend.
