Impulsion (Station 32 #1)(35)

It was just before dawn when she reached Willowhaven, a time of day that she knew he would be up, that the others would still be sleeping. Even if he had stopped feeding the first lesson horses, he should be in that apartment. She would have time to talk to him alone.

Her hand brushed across the body of his truck, which was parked out front. The memory of that one night, that one night that had changed everything, reached out for her, made her heart race. The memories were near suffocating, strong enough that she could taste his kiss on her lips, feel his hands pull her closer. She could smell him. She was home. The only place she ever wanted be.

Harley’s eyes were welling with tears as she knocked on his door. She knew without a doubt that she was going to throw herself in his arms, steal at least one kiss before she explained everything to him.

She dared to knock again, then all at once the door opened.

It was a wonder she managed not to faint. Dorcas was standing there in nothing but a skimpy teddy. She leaned into the doorway with a sleepy, sinful smile on her face.

“What are you doing back in town, Miss Priss?”

Harley was speechless.

“You’re not looking for Wyatt, are you?” She laughed. “Right now, I doubt he remembers your name. Best crawl back into whatever castle you fell out of.”

Harley turned and rushed down the stairs, simply because she was sure she was going to vomit. When she reached the doorway to the main barn, Ava was walking in. “Harley?” she gasped.

Harley ran past her with tears streaming down her face, ignoring her as she yelled her name. She only paused when she reached her car. At the end of the driveway, she saw a Lincoln Town Car pulling in. The only thing that could possibly make this worse was knowing that her mother was right, that Wyatt was everything she had said he was. She’d be damned if she let her mother see what kind of girl Wyatt was sleeping with now.

Harley died a little that dawn as she sped away from Willowhaven Farms.





Chapter Nine



Being on the road, moving city to city, riding near constantly was exactly what Wyatt needed. No day was the same; a new face, a new challenge was before him, driving him forward.

As if it were meant to be, Wyatt managed to draw every bronc that reeked of danger, ones that could destroy a man’s life in a heartbeat. At times, his uncle cut him off from the outside world so he would focus on what was before him. It had happened in more than one city. The draw would come after they arrived, and Duke would call home and tell them they were on radio silence until Wyatt was done with that rodeo.

Which was why it took Ava two days to tell Wyatt that Harley had been at Willowhaven, that she’d found Dorcas in his apartment, and that Dorcas may or may not have had clothes on. Ava said Dorcas swore she didn’t say anything bad to Harley, but she left crying anyway.

Wyatt hung up as Ava was talking and called Harley’s home. He managed to get Donald, a man that worked at her house, to tell Harley he was on the phone, that he had to talk to her, but Wyatt didn’t like what he had to say when he came back to the phone. “Mrs. Tatum asked that you never call again.”

“Tell her to tell me that,” Wyatt bit out, sick of these games.

“Mr. Doran, she is currently entertaining Collin Grant, and I was told not to disturb her any further. Is there a number that you’d like to leave? A different message?”

Wyatt clenched the phone in his hand for an instant before hanging it up.

He called every day for months, getting the same response or one that said she was not in at all. He left every number he had with that Donald son of a bitch. Not one call came back to him.

He told himself he should not be surprised. Harley avoided confrontation like it was the plague. He was a fool to expect her to tell him goodbye.

He put his entire self into the career he had enlisted into. He and Easton, side by side, became men, went down a few dark roads, walked through a few hells, but all of that was enough to dull the pain to the point where he could force himself not to think about it. Yet at times he couldn’t help it. He’d pick up the phone and call her home, each time some anniversary of theirs would pass, some epic moment they had shared. Sometimes just because it was late at night and he was either drenched with guilt or grief for both the present and past. Same answer every time: “She’s not in, would you like to leave a number?” He only responded by hanging up.

Half the reason he called was to prove to himself that she was real at one point. No one said her name around him, mentioned her. That * Donald said it, though. Said she was not in over and over again. Sometimes that was enough.

After two and a half years on the road, Wyatt finished on a high note, earning the same titles his father had when he was his age. He only had a few semesters left before he gained his Bachelor’s degree. He doubled his courses for a semester and a summer, finally showing that prize to his mother as well.

He managed to make both his parents proud. It was then time to do something for him, the fire department. He trained his ass off alongside Easton and made his way onto the squad at Station 32, the same one as Easton, the one Memphis was now a lieutenant with.

He blamed Dorcas for the final straw between him and Harley. She may have claimed to be innocent, but he had seen her online bragging about scaring Harley off.

The first thing he did was kick that girl off his farm when he came home for good. His mother made no effort to stop him.