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His mother smiled. “Congratulations, sweetie.”
“Mayor Wallace.” His father smiled, peering over his black reading glasses.
He smiled back. “Overall a good day.”
His father sat back, watching him closely. “You see him?”
The knitting needles stopped again. “Of course he did, he lives there. Honestly, Vic, sometimes I think you want him to pick a fight.”
His father scowled at his mother. “That’s ridiculous, Ramona. I just know Woodrow Boone. Hotheaded, inflated and downright nasty. Having a Wallace under his roof must have—”
“We kept our distance,” Brody interrupted, hoping to keep his parents calm. He wasn’t a fan of Woodrow Boone either, but he knew his father had done more than his fair share to make the other man that way.
“Huh,” he said, almost disappointed. “Well, there it is.” His father shook his head and leaned over his crossword again.
“You going out?” his mother asked, her keen gaze sweeping over him. “You look nice.”
“For a bit, if that’s all right?” he asked. “The girls are in bed for the night.”
“You go on,” his mother said. “We’ll call if we need you.”
With a smile and a nod he left, climbed into his truck and took the winding back roads that led to the ridge. The farther he drove, the darker it grew. He might have spent a few years away, but he knew this land—blindfolded. If he didn’t, he’d be at risk of driving off the edge of the rocky cliff ravine that gave Fire Gorge its name.
He slowed when he reached the summit, a perfectly flat surface that made this place perfect for stargazing. He turned, backed closer to the edge of the ridge and parked. As soon as he turned off his headlights, he was consumed by darkness. He let his eyes adjust before he climbed out of his cab. A steady breeze held the slightest hint of a chill and a welcome relief.
He sucked in a deep breath and opened his back door, released the seat and tugged his emergency sleeping bags out. He’d been caught out in an ice storm once, a blown axle and miles from help, without a thing to warm him up. Now he kept two sleeping bags, water and some trail mix stored behind his seat. Perfect for sitting and solving the world’s problems—or sharing burdens.
If India decided to show up.
* * *
INDIA DROVE SLOWLY along the rutted dirt road. What am I doing? Her hands tightened on the steering wheel. Driving in pitch-dark, along a sheer drop, to meet a man who stirred up far too many distracting wants and emotions. But his note had tugged at the loneliness deep inside.
Full moon tonight. Going to the ridge for some peace and quiet. Hope you’ll join me.
She should have spoken to Scarlett before leaving. It had been so nice to catch up and reconnect with her, to share and be a little vulnerable. Scarlett had agreed to watch Cal, but India hadn’t said where she was going. Letting someone in wasn’t easy for her—sister or no.
So why am I driving to the middle of nowhere to meet a man—
A blur of movement exploded out of the dark, streaking from the right and cutting across the truck’s path. Her brain shut off, unleashing panic and reacting without thought—instinct had her jerking the steering wheel sharply to the right. The dirt and rocks of the road provided no resistance. The truck spun once and again, bouncing off the road, tipping forward, slamming into the side ditch and coming to an abrupt stop.
She sat still, stunned and sore from the bite of the seat belt. The truck was wedged at an angle. While her seat belt kept her locked in place, the cab and hood of the truck sat at a severe downward slant. She turned the engine over and put it into Drive, but the car didn’t move. Reverse was no better. It was stuck. She was stuck.
“Perfect,” she ground out, resting her head on the truck headrest. She couldn’t walk out of here at this time of night. West Texas was home to mountain lions, bobcats, javelinas, snakes and the occasional black bear—all beautiful, majestic creatures she had no interest in encountering in the wild.
She flipped on the interior lights, wincing from the bright white flooding the cabin. Her purse had slid across the seat and spilled its contents all over the floor of the cab. Including her phone. If she was lucky she’d be able to call Scarlett. But the seat belt buckle wouldn’t release, and even stretching, she couldn’t reach it.
“Damn it,” she ground out. She stared out the window into the darkness.
Lights were coming. They stretched along, growing larger as whatever vehicle bounced along the road. Flying down the road. She honked, waited a few seconds and honked again. “Please, please...” she whispered.
It was Brody. When his red truck pulled alongside the ditch, relief slammed into her so hard she almost burst into tears. Almost.
“India?” he called, jumping from the cab as soon as the vehicle came to a stop. “India? You okay?”
“I’m fine,” she answered, pushing the driver door wide. “My seat belt’s stuck, though.”
Brody straddled the ditch between her truck and the road, trying the buckle release. “Might want to brace yourself,” he said, pulling his pocketknife from his pocket.
