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It would be a shame to let a woman, a stranger, come between a pair of good friends.
Even so, at the moment, Austin’s loyalty was to Gracie, because of her hunger and poverty. Finn had never known a day of need in his life. Austin had. He understood desperation. He totally got despair.
To his credit, Finn had held himself back from asking what had happened while he’d waited for Austin inside the diner.
“As soon as Gracie is finished we can go.” Austin turned his attention to her. “Where’re you going from here?”
She shrugged. He didn’t like the thought of her on the road, even if she was tough enough to handle anything that came along. He wondered if she fully understood the dangers to a woman alone in these places.
If she’d robbed a different kind of man, if it had been late at night with fewer people around, she might have been in more trouble than she could handle. And behind the building, no one would have heard her scream. The thought chilled him. She might be stronger than she looked, but hunger had left her depleted.
“Where did you sleep last night?”
She shrugged again. He grasped her wrist and repeated the question.
She put down a spoonful of rice pudding and wiped her mouth with a paper napkin. She’d been raised to have manners. He’d noticed her speech was good, her grammar correct, better than his. She hadn’t been raised poor. He’d bet on that. So, what was her story?
“I know you’re feeding me and I appreciate it,” she said, tugging on her wrist until he let go, “but where I sleep is nobody’s business but my own.”
“You made it mine when you stole my wallet.”
“She what?” Finn leaned forward, expression fierce. “Why haven’t you called the cops? Instead, you’re feeding her?”
Austin raised a hand to placate his friend. “She stole my wallet, but I caught her and got everything back.” Finn looked angry enough to spit bullets. Or maybe that should be tranquilizing darts. After all, the guy was a veterinarian. Naw. The way he was staring at Gracie was pretty lethal. Austin figured he’d better appease him. “She apologized—didn’t you, Gracie?”
She nodded. She’d returned to her pudding and her mouth was full. Good thing. It prevented her from lying. Or maybe she lied easily. He knew nothing about her.
“Where are you headed?” he asked again. “Where are you sleeping tonight?” Last thing he needed was a woman depending on him—he’d had a bellyful of that, more than one man should have to bear in only thirty-one years—but he couldn’t help worrying. The world was a dangerous place, especially for a woman on her own.
“I’m trying to get to Denver. I’m hoping to hitch a ride from here to the nearest town.”
She was heading to Denver? So were they.
Finn must have seen the wheels turning in Austin’s mind because he shook his head. “No. No, no, no. Stop thinking what you’re thinking, Austin.”
Finn had sat through enough of Austin’s griping sessions to know exactly how hard Austin’s life was with his mom. Finn’s eyebrow shot up again. Don’t take on another needy woman, man.
Sensing the tension, Gracie’s head shot up. “Are you heading to Denver?”
Austin nodded.
She swallowed the last gulp of her milk. “Can I hitchhike to the next town? I’ll be no trouble. You can drop me off there and I’ll find my own place to sleep. I promise,” she said, her voice full of both desperation and hope. “Just give me a ride that far. I can make my own way to Denver later. I’ll be no trouble. Honest.”
Finn groaned. Austin knew why. They’d been best friends since high school, and he knew Austin inside out. He knew there was no way Austin would—could—say no.
“Okay, but only as far as Casper. We’re stopping there so Finn can visit a friend.” They could drop Gracie there. The last thing, the very last thing Austin needed was a woman hanging on to him.
* * *
GRACIE SAT IN the back seat of Austin’s old SUV doing sums in her small notebook. She wouldn’t pay him back for the gas since they were going this way anyway, but she would pay him back for everything she’d ordered at lunch.
She remembered to add the extra dollar for rye toast.
This ride to the next town would give her ankle a chance to heal. Things couldn’t have worked out better.
Fascinated by the bantering between the men in the front seat, she eavesdropped shamelessly. She’d been on the road so long she didn’t know what a normal friendship felt like. Thinking back, she couldn’t remember having had one.
The friends she’d had as a child had all been adults and transitory, coming and going as careers and jobs changed.
These men had a strong friendship. She sensed how deep and real it was and it filled her with envy.
Finn talked; Austin listened. She’d learned this lesson about relationships—in many, one was the talker and the other the listener, one the social butterfly and the other happy to take a back seat.
“No way will they lose this year,” Finn said. “Even on their bad days, they’re miles better than the Broncos.”
She’d lost track of the conversation, something about sports teams, but she’d missed which sport they were discussing, distracted by a gurgling in her stomach. She rubbed it.
In the rearview mirror, Austin glanced at her. She settled her hand back into her lap. The man didn’t miss much. Good cop. That was all she needed, to have this guy pester her with an I told you so.
“They’re an awesome team,” Austin said. “Even if they did lose this year. They could go all the way next year.”
If he said I told you so, he would be right. She should have eaten less food more slowly.
Finn popped the lid on a can of nuts and, one by one, tossed them into the air and caught them in his mouth. “They choked, man. No way will they take the championship this year.”
He offered the can to Austin, who shook his head. He ignored Gracie, she noticed. Just as well. Her tummy gurgled and roiled.
Austin’s response was quiet. “We’ll see. They lost. Let’s get past it and hope for a better result this year.” The voice of reason. He probably made a good cop.
Teams. Athletes. She knew nothing about sports, or popular culture, or TV shows. Ironic when you thought about it, because—
A stomach cramp had her hissing in a breath. Fortunately, Austin hadn’t noticed. Or had he? His eyes flickered to the mirror and back to the road.
She studied his profile. Where Finn was lean, quick and full of nervous energy, and a couple of inches shorter than Austin, Austin could probably out-calm the Dalai Lama. He didn’t have the Dalai Lama’s charming wit and smile, though. She knew. She’d met the man once, and had been enchanted by him. It had been difficult for her, though, with him so pure and kind, and her a fraud.
What held Austin back? What caused the sadness that lurked in his fine blue eyes?
“What’s so great about this herd we’re going to see?” Austin asked. Everything about him, even his strong, straight profile, was serious.
“I went to college with the owner. A great guy. He’s giving up his hobby ranch. Needs to sell the herd.” Finn tossed peanuts into his mouth then offered the can to Austin again, who shook his head and pointed over his shoulder to her in the backseat. Finn offered them to Gracie, reluctantly. Odd as it was for someone who’d been starving a short while ago, the thought of eating even one left her nauseated.
She shook her head.
“Knowing this guy—” Finn turned around again “—those cattle will be top quality and in good shape.”
“Can’t wait to see them.” Ah, a spark of excitement lit Austin’s voice. So, they were on a trip to see some cows. She wondered why, so eavesdropped some more.
The gist was that these guys were apparently on their way to Texas, where Austin was going to buy a herd of cattle. So...Austin was not only a sheriff’s deputy, but also a rancher?
“You want a mouser for the barn?” Finn asked. “I’ve got a real little cutie in the office right now.”
What office?
“No one’s adopting her. All everyone wants these days is kittens.” He ate more peanuts. “I don’t want to put her down. Worst part of the job is putting down healthy animals just ’cause they don’t have a home.”
Finn was a veterinarian?
“I’d really like to find her a home.”
“You can’t take her to your dad’s ranch?” Austin asked.
Finn grinned. “Dad would kill me if I brought home another stray. He knows how much I love animals, but put his foot down after the last dog I brought over.”
Austin smiled. “Yeah, I remember all the strays you took home even before you became a vet.”
Ah. So he really was a vet. He had at least that going for him even if he was a jerk in other ways.
“Sure.” Austin shifted gears. “I’ll take the cat.”
A satisfied grin lit Finn’s face.
Finn made a joke about a bunch of cows in a field they were passing and Austin laughed—so the man could laugh—the affection between them palpable.
Again, that pang of envy.
Even before Gracie had run away, there had been few people she could trust. There’d been Gran and...that was it. No one else.
Now Gran was gone and Gracie was alone.
The men laughed and she pulled her gaze away from the fields flying past the vehicle.
Her stomach cramped. Crap, she felt sick and shivery. Her stomach churned.
It cramped again, hard and sharp.
“Stop the car,” she croaked.
“What?”
A strong breeze rushed through the open windows, but it wasn’t enough to stem the rush of bile into her throat.
“Stop the car,” she shouted.
Austin jerked the steering wheel and slammed on the brakes. The car fishtailed on the gravel shoulder.
Gracie just managed to scramble out and make it to the ditch before losing her lunch.
She retched until there was nothing left, and she wanted to cry. All of that food wasted when her body needed it so badly.
She heard footsteps on the road behind her, calm and measured. Had to be Austin.
She felt a hand on her shoulder.
“Here.” A hand held a tissue in front of her face.
Embarrassing. It wasn’t bad enough the man had to see her as a homeless person, now he had to witness this indignity?
“Sorry,” she said.
He rested his hand on her back while she retched one more time, his touch reassuring. She wiped her mouth.
“You have any gum or mints?” she asked.
“Yeah.” He removed his hand. She missed the warmth. She heard him walk to the car. He returned a minute later with a pack of gum.
“Thanks.” She took two sticks because her mouth tasted like crap and the gum was sweet and minty. The chewing and her saliva helped to settle her stomach.
She wiped her damp forehead and brushed sweat from her upper lip. When her legs stopped shaking, she returned to the vehicle with Austin keeping step beside her.
“You okay?” he asked.
“Yeah. Just sorry I had to lose that food.”
He climbed into the driver’s seat while she got into the back. She had to give him credit. Not a single I told you so. There was something to be said for the strong, silent type.
Trouble started, though, once they reached the small town midway to Denver when Austin parked on the street near a small hotel and Gracie walked into a back alley to sleep for the night.
“What?” Austin gaped. “No way am I letting you sleep in an alleyway.”
“Letting me?” Gracie asked, voice dangerously quiet. “You bought me lunch. You gave me a drive. I appreciate it. That doesn’t give you rights, or any say in what I do or where I go.” She set her knapsack on the ground on the far side of a Dumpster, where she could hide from the prying eyes of anyone walking past.
Austin followed her. “You can’t sleep here.”
“I can and will. It’s a warm night.” Although the sky had darkened on the drive and thunder rumbled in the distance. Gracie walked to the back door of a store that fronted onto the street they’d parked on, where bales of compacted cardboard had been put out for recycling.
Taking a folding knife from her back pocket, she slit the baling wire and dragged a couple of large boxes to set up a bed for herself.
“You’re going to sleep out in the rain when I’m offering you a place to stay, free of charge?”
“That’s right. I’ll cut your hair in the morning. That’s for lunch. I can’t afford to pay you back for a hotel room.”
He stood arms akimbo and brow as thunderous as the approaching storm. “I’m not asking for payment.”
“I know, but I wouldn’t feel right if I didn’t give you something in return.”
“You don’t like taking.” His quiet tone said he understood too much.
“No,” she answered. “I don’t like owing anyone anything. Not one dime. I like my independence.”
