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I don’t know how to be.
A clanging noise tears me from my pity party and I sit up straighter. It dawns on me that I heard something earlier.
That’s what woke me up.
It sounded like a diesel truck, the trademark rumble of their engines.
Only, now it’s someone walking, heavy footsteps coming from the side of the house.
I bolt up and step lightly across the porch, careful not to make a sound, quietly vaulting over the railing. Flattening myself against the wall of the house, I slowly inch forward, just enough to peer around the corner.
It’s a man. He’s creeping through the shadows of my barn, slowly but surely beelining a path to the house.
Tall. Soldier-like build. Wide shoulders. Thick jacket draped over them, like the kind the boys in the oil fields start to wear this time of year to survive the brutish North Dakota cold.
My eyes confirm my worst fears when they flick to his feet.
Big boots.
Almost certainly muddy.
My heart pounds war and my fists form up like fighters, suddenly regretting that I didn’t chase down this fuck when Shel spotted him last night. Now, maybe I’ll get my chance to pull a few answers out of him the hard way...
I crouch down, ready to ambush him the instant he’s in range. A countdown begins. Thirty more seconds and I’ll have him on the ground, slamming his skull into the morning frost.
Fifteen.
Twelve.
Ten.
Nine...
Shouldn’t take more than a nanosecond to disarm him if he’s packing, then I can shove my hand on his throat and—
My heart sinks at the last second when he steps into view.
I jerk back.
“Marty?” I whisper harshly. “What the fuck?”
Then it hits me.
He’s probably looking for Shelly, who never came home last night. All because she’s sound asleep in my bed, naked and sporting sex hair for life.
Fuck!
He’ll be at the corner of the house in a few more steps, so I move, stepping into his line of sight. “Hey, man. What are you doing here so early?”
His eyes bulge with surprise and he jogs the last few steps, keeping his voice low. “West, I tried calling you and Shelly.”
“Oh, right. I left my phone in my truck.”
Same for hers, I think. We were in such a frenzy to get inside, we barely took the time to close the truck’s doors.
“Marty, did something happen?” I ask, growing concerned at the look on his face.
“Is Shelly here?” he asks, a little winded. “The sensors at Gram’s kept going off like crazy last night. I assumed it was her, until I stopped by real early this morning and found out she’s not there. Where is she?”
