Gone Country (Rough Riders #14)(98)


A few catcalls greeted them. She’d just slipped on her coat when Kara and Angie sidled up to her. “Omigod, Sierra. Why didn’t you tell us you were with Boone West?”


She looked at him, too tired to come up with something clever. “Because our families will freak out. So don’t tell anyone. Please.”


“It’s our secret. We promise.” They exchanged a conspiring look.


Sierra allowed Boone to tuck her against his side as they left the party.


Fierce winds smacked her in the face, stealing her breath, and she jerked away from Boone. Immediately vertigo hit; she swayed and fell on her ass.


Boone picked her up without comment. He shoved her in the passenger seat and buckled her in.


The drive was tense and the visibility horrible, as Boone repeatedly pointed out. After a bit, he said, “Your car runs like crap. What’s wrong with it?”


“I don’t know. Been like that a few days.”


“And yet you’re still driving it?”


“Either that or sit at home.”


Boone muttered.


As soon as they hit the cut-across to the paved county road, he drove faster. He probably couldn’t wait to get rid of her. But given the weather and the fact he didn’t have his bike, Boone would be stuck at her house. What would her Dad think?


He’ll be pissed you’ve been drinking.


Snow swirled and blew over the windshield. It made her dizzy and she wanted to close her eyes. Why was it taking so long for the car to warm up?


A loud bang sounded and the car wobbled.


She glanced over at Boone to see both his hands clamped on the steering wheel. His feet intermittently pumped the brakes. She saw his horror when they picked up momentum and the road seemed to buckle and snap.


She was jerked forward as the front end connected with a solid object, throwing snow on the windshield before the world went dark.


Chapter Twenty-Nine


Gavin glanced at his cell phone when it rang at eleven-thirty. That’d better not be his daughter calling to say she’d be late coming home. Again.


The caller ID was a restricted number so he was tempted to ignore it, but he answered, “What?”


“Gavin? This is Cam.”


Why the hell would Cam McKay be calling him this time of night? Then it hit him. Cam was with the sheriff’s office. “What’s happened?”


“Sierra’s been in a car accident.”


He sank into the closest chair. The words registered, yet not. “When?”


“Not sure. She’s in the ER now. Look, the roads are nasty and there’ve been a lot of accidents. Do you have a four-wheel drive vehicle that’ll get you into Sundance?”


He frowned at the phone. “What? I need a four-wheeler to get there?”


“No. Let’s take this slow.” Cam asked a question. Gavin answered. Cam asked another question. Gavin answered again. Cam asked, “Is Rielle there?”


“No. She’s in Denver.”


“You okay to drive?”


Gavin nodded.


Silence.


“Gavin, stay on the line.”


Sierra. Ask him what’s going on with Sierra before he hangs up.


“Cam?”


Dead air for what seemed like forever.


Then a click. “I called Ben. He’ll be there in five minutes to get you.”


That registered. Why hadn’t he thought of calling his brother? It also registered he hadn’t asked if his daughter was all right. “What can you tell me about Sierra?”


“Nothing. I’m sorry.”


Fuck.


“Do you need me to stay on the line with you until Ben arrives?”


“No, Cam. Thanks. I’m…I’ll…I need to get myself together.”


“Understandable. See you in a few.”


But he couldn’t get himself together. He was absolutely numb. What if she was…? He squeezed his eyes shut. He couldn’t think the word, let alone say it.


Every second felt like a day. He slipped on his cold weather gear. By the time he’d pulled on the hat Sierra had made him, a vehicle barreled up the driveway and he scooted out of the house and into Ben’s big rig.


Ben whipped a U-turn in the drive. Then they were on the highway leading to Sundance. “Any word on her?”


“No. Just that she was in an accident.”


Silence filled the cab as Gavin stared out the window into the black night. He finally said, “Cam said the roads are bad.”


“Not here. But I flipped on the road condition report. Guess it’s worse by Moorcroft. Was that where she was tonight?”


I have no idea.


Why didn’t he know?


Because as soon as she’d gotten those keys she was gone. He’d been relieved the issue of her not driving wasn’t an issue between them anymore, so he’d been lax asking her specifics on where she was going, what she was doing, and who she was doing it with.


Some parent. No idea where his kid had been, no idea how the f*ck he’d deal with it if something bad had happened to her.

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