Page 40 of An Unfinished Memory

Light filtered around the shades. Early morning. Less than eight hours ago, I’d arrived after sundown to park in her garage and headed straight to bed. Neither of us had gotten much sleep. This was only our fourth time hooking up, but I was quickly becoming dependent, watching the calendar and the clock, waiting for the moment I could hit the button on the garage remote she’d let me use.

The conversation with Eliot in the bar the other night hadn’t eased the urgency, only made it worse, as if I’d find my answers waking up in her bed.

“Hello?” she croaked. The sound hadn’t been an alarm but was her phone. A moment later, she sat straight up. “No, I can be there in a few minutes. How far out are you again? Okay. Send me your address, and I’ll plug it into my GPS. Okay—bye.”

She scooted out of bed. I rolled over and watched herscurry around, getting shadowed glimpses of her lush hips and breasts. “Another emergency?”

“Yes.” She bounced on one foot to drag her jeans onto the other leg. “He’s got a bloated cow. I’ve done some work for this rancher, and he’s as intuitive as Eliot.”

Our family’s ranch had only survived Barns’s last years because Eliot could spot an issue a mile away, and when he couldn’t deal with something himself, Sutton had swooped in for the save.

She tugged a shirt over her head. “River is at her mom’s for the weekend, but I think this guy’s son is going to meet us.”

She’d be alone with two guys she didn’t really know? “You trust this guy?” I hated the idea of her going to ranchers’ places by herself. Most of her ranching clients were men or couples and most were decent, but I wasn’t the law here. I didn’t have an excuse to be patrolling by, and I hadn’t been born and raised in Crocus Valley. I knew no one, and Sutton hadn’t lived in town long. She wouldn’t know who to stay away from yet.

“Want me to go with?” I rolled up and got out of bed. It wasn’t that small of a world. No one would know who I was, and they likely wouldn’t be familiar with my family.

“No, it’s fine. He has a good reputation.”

“They all do until they don’t.”

“Wilder.”

“Sutton, I wasn’t asking.”

“But—”

“Your safety is more important than secrecy. If anyone finds out we were together for a call, we’ll make something up. Like…” We’d been sneaking around for weeks, and I hadn’t thought of possible excuses. “Like, you packed some of my equipment when you moved out, and I needed it before shift today.”

She stared at me. “Seriously? You think anyone will buy that? What equipment?”

I threw my hands up. I hadn’t had time to grab clothing, and my dick jiggled with the movement. “I don’t know. A backup vest?”

She arched a brow, then rolled her eyes. “Fine. I’m leaving in two minutes.”

I was dressed, had pissed, and was by the door in a minute and forty-five seconds.

She swept past me and out the front door. Her pickup was outside. Mine was hiding in her garage. Sutton had to live in the community. People liked to talk, and a gorgeous, single woman like her seen with a guy’s truck in front of her house would draw attention. Those fucknuts at the street dance had circled her like three bulls in a pen with one cow. Living a few miles out of town wouldn’t matter. People would notice. They’d talk. We’d be busted.

I slid into the passenger seat, and she punched the pickup in reverse. The sun was up enough that everything was visible. Light blues and purples painted the horizon. She took the highway to the other side of Crocus Valley and then turned on a gravel road to the west in the opposite direction from where Aggie and Cody lived.

“What do you know about this guy?” I asked.

She didn’t look at me, just kept her eyes on the road. The dust cloud kicking up behind us hung over the road. No wind. “He’s older, pays on time, and hates Dr. Jake.”

She pulled into a yard with a long, beige modular home. A garage had been built on the end of the house. A small chicken coop was in the backyard, and chickenswere already pecking around in the grass. A large, white Great Pyrenees was lying in the damp grass, looking like a giant dirty sweater had been discarded. He popped his head up when we coasted down the drive toward the barn.

Sutton parked and hopped out. She greeted an older rancher scurrying toward us in all his bowlegged glory. Suspenders held his jeans up, but the legs pooled into a set of worn cowboy boots.

“Hey, Sutton,” he said in a voice as rough as the washboard gravel we’d just been on. “Thanks for coming. My son came by. We’ve got her in the barn.” He was turned and heading toward the barn before he finished his sentence.

For an old man, he could out-walk a racehorse. Sutton grabbed her kit out of the back of the pickup, and we jogged to catch up to him.

A man a few years older and a lot shorter than me met the old rancher. He nodded toward us, his questioning gaze darting from me to Sutton. “I thought for a moment you had Dr. Jake with you.”

I’d heard about the player, Dr. Jake. He’d gone after Aggie as if she’d had eyes for anyone other than Ansen. Aggie didn’t have to tell me the other vet was sniffing around Sutton, offering a helping hand, assuring her there was enough work for both of them. He’d even offered her a job—I’d managed to get that tidbit out of Ansen, who wasn’t as tight-lipped about Sutton. My brother-in-law was probably getting back at me for running him off when he and Aggie were first engaged.

He’d deserved it. But then, so did I.

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