Page 17 of Steers and Stowaways
She slapped his sandwich against his chest. “He means it,” she announced in a dull voice.
His fingers brushed hers as they closed around what was left of his sandwich. “Pretty sure this falls in the category of brisket abuse.”
Nobody laughed.
“Finish it,” she ordered in a nasty voice. “I’m no longer hungry.”
He appreciated the silence that descended over their group, though he wasn’t thrilled at the possibility that he’d genuinely offended her. Though they’d never gotten along very well, he knew he was being extra hard on her today. He silently begged her to understand it was only part of his act. Not that he cared what anyone thought of him. But if he did, her opinion might’ve been the one opinion that mattered.
As he scarfed down the rest of his sandwich, his gaze landed on a roadblock ahead. It was comprised of four orange-and-white-striped sawhorses lined up end-to-end. Right smack in the middle of them was a black-and-white sign that read ROAD CLOSED.
What in the?—?
A trio of ATVs careened onto his lane from both sides ofthe road, forcing him to brake harder than he would’ve preferred. One of the ATVs was larger than the others, encased in a metal cage with roll bars. A narrow trailer was hitched to the back of it.
Unless Tucker was misreading the situation, he’d driven them straight into a holdup!
Men in ski masks swiftly surrounded the truck with guns drawn.
Chip made a bleating sound and dove for the floorboard. “I’m not ready to die!”
Tucker raised his hands in surrender, sending up a silent prayer for Divine protection.
From his peripheral vision, he watched Mallory follow his lead. There was no telling what Cruz was doing in the backseat. Tucker could only hope the punk had his hands in the air, too.
One of the masked highwaymen marched up to the passenger side of the truck and banged the barrel of his gun on the window.
“Okay, okay,” Mallory hissed. She dragged in a bracing breath and rolled down her window. “Would you like some fries with that?” Though her voice held a nervous tremor, her fake Southern accent was blessedly intact.
Tucker muffled a groan.You can’t be serious!She was joking at a time like this?
The man behind the mask made a curious snorting sound. Then he angled his head at the cattle trailer. “Gonna need you to get out of the truck, ma’am. Slowly,” he stressed in a harder voice. “Then you’re gonna open the cattle trailer, and you’re gonna do it quietly. No talking.”
From the number of weapons pointed in their direction, Tucker had no doubt they would pull the trigger if anyone in the truck tried anything. He had no choice but to watchthrough Mallory’s side-view mirror as she did exactly what she was told.
His heart constricted painfully when she stepped behind the trailer out of view.
Please, God, protect her. I’m begging you.
He felt a shudder of movement as someone hopped inside the cattle trailer, then another person. No matter how hard he squinted into the side-view mirrors, though, he couldn’t see anything that was happening back there.
He suddenly wished he’d gone to church more lately instead of working an extra job at Johnny’s Dairy. Ever since he’d left his career as a police detective behind, he’d made a habit of filling every spare minute. It was so he wouldn’t have any time left to think. And grieve. And wallow in his ex-partner’s betrayal. A betrayal that had nearly cost Tucker his life. He’d spent the last two years internalizing the betrayal and using it as a reminder not to let anyone else get too close to him again.
Somewhere along the line, though, he’d let his carefully crafted shield slip with Mallory. Though they hadn’t known each other for long, lately he’d been finding himself more eager to hear her thoughts. Her laughter. Her opinions. The things she said and did mattered to him—so much that the thought of anything bad happening to her behind the cattle trailer made his heart bleed.
He didn’t realize he was holding his breath until she stepped back into view. She walked with her head down and returned to the passenger seat. Then she woodenly rolled up her window.
“Brat?” Tucker risked whispering a single word as the masked men swaggered to their ATVs.
“I’m okay.” She shuddered.
He snuck a sideways glance at her and was alarmed tonote the sheen of tears in her eyes. She certainly didn’t look okay.
Neither of them spoke again until the highway bandits roared off on their ATVs. One of them was driving much slower than the others—the one with the trailer hitched to it. A steer was now harnessed inside the trailer.
Tucker frowned in confusion. “All of this to steal a single steer?” That didn’t make sense. None of what had just happened made sense.
“He was so scared,” Mallory muttered, more to herself than anyone else.
