Spurs 'n Surrender (Operation Cowboy Book 2)(48)

As he increased his pace, he welcomed the warmth in his muscles. One mile turned into two, then four.

Passing a scrubby bush, he detected some rustling. He stopped dead a split second before a boar rushed out. Wydell palmed his sidearm like a cowboy out of the Old West. He didn’t even squeeze off a shot before the animal started to charge.

He gave a warning shout, not wanting to kill the animal if he could get it to run away. When it kept coming, he shot into the dirt in front of it. Dust spattered its face, and Wydell’s heart tripped.

The boar turned and ran. Wydell watched it disappear from sight, gauging how many more of those beasts he might encounter before he reached the caves.

Heart still banging like a war drum, he took aim at a distant tree and emptied his weapon. Checked his aim. Before the war, each shot used to feel like coming home. An extension of himself. But now…

Now not much gave him ease at all, except Anya.

What was she doing right now? He looked at the sun’s position and guessed it to be early afternoon. So many hours they could have lain together, but he’d screwed up everything.

He kept picking up his feet and putting them down, a Marine cadence in the back of his mind as he put distance between himself and the woman who’d burrowed deep into his heart, mind and soul.



*



Anya dragged in a deep breath of grass-scented air, though she couldn’t enjoy it. Not when her heart was in so much turmoil.

She’d tried to ignore the fact that Wydell had walked out on her. Without a word, no less. When she thought about how she’d waited for him to return, a flush coated her cheeks. Part of her was furious that he’d treat her this way while another, more intuitive part urged her to consult his friends and see if he was okay.

He hadn’t returned to the building site, she knew that much. She’d moved her trailer again in order to keep an eye out.

She crossed the turf between her truck and the Bell’s wide front porch. Mismatched chairs were arranged in an inviting way, and she thought of sweet tea and good conversation.

When she knocked, she realized too late that they’d be sitting down for dinner. It was why she hadn’t seen anybody outside of the ranch house.

“Crap,” she muttered a second before the door opened.

Danica’s face wreathed in smiles. “Anya! Come in. We’re just having dinner. Will you join us?”

“Oh, sorry, no thanks. I didn’t mean to—”

“Don’t be silly. We’ve got plenty. Guys, Anya’s here.” Danica strode through the house and into the dining room. Anya had no choice but to follow on the breeze she created.

Anya stepped into the kitchen and six eyes fixed on her. No, make that eight. The dog was looking at her too.

She threw a silly wave and said, “Hi.”

“Have a seat beside Boyd. He won’t bite,” Danica said.

“I’m not making any promises.” Boyd waggled his brows but pulled out the chair next to him. Anya took it with a word of thanks. Danica set a plate and silverware before her, and people started passing her platters of ham and dishes of scalloped potatoes.

Anya glanced down at her plate, which held more food than she’d consume in two meals. But to be polite, she lifted her fork and took a bite of the potatoes. Cheesy and with bits of onion, the flavors made her moan.

Boyd spoke up. “Hey, Mikey, she he likes it!”

She smiled at the TV reference from their childhoods, and then looked to Danica. “These are delicious. Will you share the recipe?”

“Sure, it’s no secret.” She smiled again, looking less peaked than she had a few days before while they’d sat in Anya’s trailer eating muffins. Her pregnancy might have progressed enough that she wasn’t feeling as ill.

Anya forked a few more bites into her mouth before she got up the gumption to tell them her reason for being there. “Has anyone seen Wydell? I’m worried about him. He left the tiny house project without saying a word to me.”

“I saw him a few hours ago,” Boyd said before taking a mouthful of ham.

Everybody stared at him while he chewed, but he seemed to ignore them.

“Well?” Brodie prompted with enough exasperation that Danica threw him an amused look.

Boyd shrugged and swallowed. “He took off for a few days.”

A chasm in Anya’s chest opened up. “Took off?”

“Where?” Garrett asked, concern deepening his tone.

“Went off to the trails. Said he needed time to think.”

Brodie set down his fork. “Which trails?”

“The caves. What other trails are there? We spent enough time there as kids.”

Brodie leaned back in his chair and Danica gave him a sidelong look that set Anya on edge. “Damn.”

“Are these trails dangerous?” she asked.

“Not if he has his weapon, and I know he does. I saw him take it.” Boyd looked around the table. “What are you getting your panties in a bunch about? He’s a grown-ass man back from a fucking war. He can handle himself against a boar or two.”

“Boyd’s right,” Garrett said.

The mood at the table relaxed, but Anya couldn’t do anything but wring her hands in her lap. He’d gone off to think…about what?

“I’m worried.” The words escaped her before she’d given them thought. “He’s been having some troubles.”