Page 5 of Westin

She snorted, pushing away from the brick wall and wrapping her arms around herself. She was wearing a thin blouse and a pair of jeans, some fancy boots that wouldn’t last a second on a real ranch, but not much else. She was a slip of a thing, slender and petite, with pale skin save for a scattering of freckles across the bridge of her nose. Her hair was pulled back into a braid, a few small curls coming loose to frame her face. And her eyes were an amber that had red and gold tones to it, just like her hair. She was a beauty, but a beauty who was clearly not from around here.

“You always go around without a jacket?” Westin asked as he shrugged back out of the jacket he’d just put on and slipped it around her shoulders. “Kind of dumb around here.”

“I wasn’t planning on getting out here, but he had other ideas.”

“Who was that guy?”

She rolled her shoulders even as she pulled his jacket tighter around her, practically burying her face in the collar.

“Well, he’s gone,” Westin repeated. “I doubt he’ll be coming back anytime soon.”

“He’ll be back.”

Westin glanced back at the truck, saw the guys watching them through the quickly fogging windows. Bowie made a comical face, pretending he was kissing some broad, like they were all in middle school instead of grown men.

“Do you have someplace to go? Someone you can call?” He looked back at the girl, studying her face in search of that fear he’d seen earlier. It was gone almost like it had never been there. “A friend or some family?

She shook her head. “I was just passing through the area.”

“We could call you a cab, get you back to where you came from.”

She shook her head, nixing that suggestion in the bud. Westin didn’t know what else to say to her. How could he help someone who didn’t seem to want help? He rolled back on his heels, shoving his hands deeper into his pockets, the cold eating at him again. They couldn’t just leave her here—but, again, was it really their problem?

Fuck, it was cold out here!

Clint came around the corner, hesitating slightly when his eyes settled on Westin, taking in his missing jacket. It was a second before his eyes moved to the girl, assessing her pale complexion and the dark jacket wrapped around her shoulders.

“What’s going on here?”

“You smooth things over with the deputy?” Westin asked, rubbing his upper arms in a useless attempt to warm them up.

“Yeah, everything’s good.” Clint’s eyes again rested on the girl. “I’m Clint Grooms,” he told her, holding out a big hand that was covered in a heavy work glove—someone must have brought him his jacket and gloves. “You are…?”

“Lea Adams,” the woman said, offering him her own smaller, delicate hand. “Thank you for getting rid of him.”

“Who was that guy?”

The girl hesitated, clearly not eager to explain herself to anyone. “Look, I don’t know who you guys are, but you came to my rescue and now I’m kind of stranded here. I don’t suppose you’d be willing—”

“Come on, Clint!” Landry called from the truck. “We gotta get going!”

Westin glanced over his shoulder, gesturing for Landry to keep his pants on.

“We could take you to the sheriff’s office,” Clint told the girl. “Maybe they could help you out.”

“No.” The girl lowered her head as she stomped her feet, feeling the cold as much as everyone else. “I can’t do that.”

“Well…”

Clint seemed as much at a loss as Westin was. Westin crossed his arms over his chest, his eyes moving over the girl, his desire to get his jacket back much higher than his desire to help her out. He cleared his throat as her eyes came up to meet his. There was something there, a memory of the fear she’d displayed earlier, but it quickly disappeared as she turned her attention on Clint, clearly marking him as the man in charge.

“I could pay you,” she said softly. “If you could take me somewhere safe, somewhere I could hide for a while, I could pay you. A lot.”

Clint shook his head, but she grabbed his arm. “Seriously. Lots of money. As much as you could want. I just… I can’t be here. I need to go somewhere else, somewhere safe. Somewhere he’d never think to look for me.” She gave him a look that was one a man could never turn away from, one of those looks that said so much more than words ever could. “I just need a couple of days, someone to stick around in case he comes back. That’s all.”

“We don’t even know who you are, lady.” Clint carefully removed her hand from his arm and reached back to pull out his wallet. “I can give you a couple of bucks for a taxi, but—”

“You don’t understand!” She spun on her heel, turned toward Westin. “Please! I wouldn’t even be here if your friend hadn’t interfered!”