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A single man drove the truck, and he didn’t have any windows down. Ted couldn’t hear any music coming from the truck. He wanted to call Emma and have her meet him on the bridge—as far as he could go. But he didn’t have her number.
The blue truck also didn’t bear a grasshopper. Ted’s step faltered, but his pulse did not. Thinking quickly, he bent down and acted like he was checking something along the fence. He had no idea what that would even be, but he figured the guy in the truck wouldn’t either.
He moved to the next pole and bent again, this time sneaking a peek toward the truck. The driver’s door had been opened, and Ted quickly straightened again, his senses on high alert. He’d seen fights coming in prison, and he’d learned to be ready.
The man walked toward him, not too fast, and not too slow. Ted backed up a step and dusted off his hands. “Hey there,” he said. “Do you need some help?” His voice sounded slightly off, but this stranger wouldn’t know. Ted didn’t smile, and he made sure he was out of arm’s reach as the stranger continued to approach.
“Do you work on the ranch?” he asked.
Obviously, Ted thought, but he just said, “Yep.”
“Do you know if they’re hiring?”
“I don’t know,” Ted said.
“Who would I talk to?”
Ted hesitated, because he didn’t want to give out names. Though, perhaps this man just wanted a job. If he went to the house and spoke to Ginger, maybe she could learn his name. Plenty of people owned and drove blue trucks, and this one didn’t have a grasshopper.
“Were you just driving around looking for someone to talk to?” Ted asked instead of answering his question.
The man shrugged and looked away. Ted tried to memorize his face, from the long, sloped nose, the medium-brown hair, the regular brown eyes. There was nothing memorable about him, other than he wore a jacket in this weather. Normal jeans. Regular tennis shoes. The jacket was blue and white and zipped all the way up. Ted started to choke just looking at the guy.
“What’s your name?” he tried. “I can give it to the ranch owner. She’ll call you if she needs another man.”
“That’s okay,” he said. “I was just hoping something would fall into my lap.” He glanced at Ted and gave a small smile. He waved and turned to go back to his truck. Ted watched him go, and the moment he got behind the wheel and closed the door, Ted turned and started back to the ranch.
He’d find Emma in the West Wing, and he needed to talk to her as soon as possible. It took longer than he’d like to get back there, and he was sure the blue truck would be gone, but he had the license plate. He could describe him to Emma and see if it was the same person.
He was panting and sweating when he made it to the steps that led into the house. He burst through the door and called, “Emma?”
His boots clunked against the floor as he hurried down the hall and into the kitchen. “Emma?” Her office had to be somewhere nearby. Right? But he didn’t know where, and he didn’t want to start poking around the West Wing. In fact, he shouldn’t be here at all. Ginger had told him the men didn’t come over here uninvited.
His heartbeat rippled, and he turned toward the hall where he knew the bathroom was. “Emma?”
“Yes,” she said to his left “I’m right here.” She appeared in a doorway, a gray and white cat at her feet. She bent and picked it up. “What are you doing here?”
“I saw the guy in the blue truck,” Ted said, striding toward her. “I got the license plate. Let’s look him up.” He grinned at her as he approached.
She looked at him with shock in her eyes. “Wait. What?” She fell back into the doorway as he pressed past her.
“You have a computer, right?” He entered the office before she could answer. Sure enough, she had a computer on the large desk in front of the window. “Yes, you sure do.” He tossed her another grin as he continued into her office.
He took a seat in front of her computer, well-aware of what he’d just done. He slowed down a little bit and looked back to where she still stood in the doorway, that cat in her arms.
“Can I use this?” he asked.
“What are you going to do?”
“Look up the license plate number,” he said.
“How do you do that?” She finally took a few steps into the office, but she sure didn’t seem to want to. She used the feline as a shield between them, but the cat meowed, and she put him down. He came toward Ted as if they’d be best friends.
“What’s his name?”
“Frisco,” she said, rubbing her hands up and down her arms. The air conditioning sure did work well in the West Wing, and Ted envied her. She wasn’t wearing shoes either, and he liked her hair in a high ponytail and the vulnerability in her face. She still had makeup on, and Ted was starting to realize she wore it every day, even if she didn’t leave the West Wing.
The cat rubbed against Ted’s ankles, and he didn’t hate it.
