Page 53 of Westin

“In a minute. I need to pick something up first.”

Westin could see the look of concern on Clint’s face as he headed away from his truck toward the liquor-cum-convenience store. He waved him off, smiling. “No more booze. This is something else.”

Clint just nodded, perhaps deciding he had to trust his friend. “Meet you back there.”

Westin watched Clint drive off before he ducked into the store. Less than five minutes later, he was behind the wheel and on his way back to the ranch. He had to admit it was comforting to see the two guys on the front gate, not to mention the shotgun one of them had hanging in the back window of his truck. He’d never been one to worry much about security—always figured he could take care of himself—but it was different now.

He bypassed the barn and the main bunkhouse, taking the trail that led to the foreman’s cabin. He could see Bowie in the cab of his truck, the engine running and probably the heater, too. There was a ghost light that he discovered was the glow of Bowie’s iPad when he approached the window. The man was reading, probably some biography. He liked biographies of politicians and world leaders.

Westin rapped on the window and Bowie looked up, a fog engulfing his entire countenance. It took him a second to even identify the source of the noise.

“Westin? What are you doing here?”

“How is she?”

Bowie glanced up at the cabin. “Haven’t heard a peep since I got here.”

“Are you sure she’s in there?”

“Positive. Spoke to her when Remington left so that she knew I was out here.” He set his iPad down on his lap. “And she brought me some tea a couple of hours ago.” He indicated a cup sitting in the console. “Chamomile.”

“Okay, Sister.”

Bowie sniffed. “You’re just jealous she never brought you anything.”

“Oh, she brought me more than you can imagine.” Westin smacked the side of the truck. “Go back to your book.”

Westin walked up to the front of the house, practically jumping over the steps to the porch. He knocked, three quick, successive knocks, and leaned against the doorframe as he waited. It was a good minute before he heard the rattle of the chain, the scrape of the deadbolt being undone. And then she was there, those amber eyes a little puffy from sleep.

“Westin? Is everything okay?”

“Everything is… I brought you something.” He held up the plastic bag from the convenience store. “Thought you might appreciate it.”

“Yeah? What could that be?”

He rolled his head, unable to keep a small smile from creeping its way to his lips. “Just a little something you asked for a few days ago.”

She frowned, slipping the bag from his fingers. She peeked inside, and her cheeks warmed, the color darkening for a moment, then disappearing, draining right there in front of him, like someone had pulled a drain plug.

“Funny,” she said in clipped tones, handing the bag back to him.

“Lea—”

She slammed the door, leaving him there on the freezing porch, wondering how something that was supposed to be funny had twisted so completely for reasons he wasn’t terribly clear on. He tried the knob and found the door unlocked, his momentum pushing him hard through the entrance. He hadn’t expected it to open.

Lea was pacing in front of the couch. She reached up and ran her hands over her face, pulling up the little T-shirt she was wearing. Her hips, the wide band of her panties, and her lower stomach were exposed for a moment, distracting Westin for an instant. Or maybe a little longer than an instant.

“What’d you do that for?”

She jumped. She must not have heard him come in. “Hell, Westin! Don’t do that!”

“Why did you do that?”

“What? Did you think I was going invite you inside, shimmy out of my clothes, and let you have your way with me?” She shook her head even as she grabbed her long braid and began to untwist it between her elegant fingers. “You yell at me for putting everyone on the ranch in danger, and then you come back in the middle of the night and expect me to welcome you with open arms?”

“You should have told me what was really going on with you.”

She paused, her fingers still for a long moment as she studied him. She whispered something under her breath he didn’t quite catch, a curse perhaps. “He told you, didn’t he?” She laughed, that humorless laugh he’d heard escape her lips before. “That’s what I get for trusting some cowboy! Can’t keep his damn mouth shut!”