Total pages in book: 30
Estimated words: 27610 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 138(@200wpm)___ 110(@250wpm)___ 92(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27610 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 138(@200wpm)___ 110(@250wpm)___ 92(@300wpm)
I walk out the door and close it softly behind me, then double my pace to the barn. The doors are still open from earlier, and with the tractor parked behind the side-by-side, I’ll be able to get her up and running in no time. Truth be told, I’ve yet to do a job as big as this since I’ve moved up here. Sure, there’ve been a couple of fender benders, a few cars breaking down here or there, but nothing as bad as what Minnie’s been put through.
I go through the motions, dropping the chains and rope in the bucket and climbing inside. There is a plus to being in the skid steer: it’s enclosed, keeping the snow and freezing cold weather out. I make my trek back down the drive while worrying the entire time that Clementine is by herself and I didn’t do that of a great job of checking her for any injuries.
“Goddamn it, Clay. You’re a dumb pecker head,” I say into the enclosure. The jarring down the gravel road has me deep in thought. There’s a chance more people will head up this way after the sheriff told Minnie to get a move on and drive up here instead of telling her to park in town. And he didn’t say shit to me about her coming up here. Is he asking to get someone killed? Unless it wasn’t the sheriff but a park ranger. Though, I’d like to think either one of them would have a lick of sense, especially after everything that’s happened around here lately. Either way, the next time I’m in town, I’ll be having a chat with whomever is involved. This accident could have been avoided, and while I’m pissed that Minnie could have been hurt, the good thing to come of this situation is I’ve got her exactly where I want her—in my home and in my bed.
CHAPTER 7
Minnie
“Hi, it’s me, don’t hang up.” Lennon usually doesn’t answer calls from numbers she doesn’t have saved in her cell phone, and I’m using Clay’s landline; it’s even corded. I’d be in the shock of my life had it been rotary style. We had one growing up. That didn’t mean it stayed connected. Unless Lennie paid the bill, we’d have to rely on communicating when and where we’d be. On the rare occurrences we were able to use the phone, we had to be quiet. We were always fearful our parents would do something like hawk the thing for a few bucks.
“Minnie?” It’s the wee hours of the morning at home, and I can tell I’ve woken her up. My stomach sinks to my feet. I hate that I’ve interrupted her sleep, the only place where I know her mind shuts down and her worries disappear for the night.
“Yep, letting you know I kind of sort of ran into the side of a mountain. Cindy may or may not be totaled, and I’m staying at the owner’s place for the night.” I go on to tell her the whole story. Lennon stays quiet as I verbally dump my drama on her. She knows me well enough to know I’ve got to get it out, or I’ll keep it inside and sleep will never come my way.
“Jesus, Minnie, are you okay?” she asks once I take my first full breath.
“I am. Shaken up and really freaking annoyed at the turn of events.”
“I’ll get online now and book a plane ticket.” I can hear her moving around, probably getting out of bed when I’m about to climb into bed.
“No, no, no, you don’t have to do that.” She’s done so much for me and has problems of her own currently swirling around every single place in her life.
“I know I don’t, but I want to.” I can hear the worry in her tone. Whether it’s over how she’s going to swing the cost or concern for me, she’ll never admit.
“You won’t find a flight. Colorado is about to get six feet of snow, and by the time it’s over, I’ll already have a game plan in place. Now, I want you to write this name and address down. Also, save this number and feel free to call whenever, except for the next few hours or so.” I’m prepared for what she’s going to say next when I tell her Clay’s first and last name.
“Clementine Sinclair.” Our parents didn’t give either of us middle names. Apparently, that would have been asking entirely too much.
“I’m good. Everything is going to be fine. He’s been the perfect gentleman, and his dog has taken a liking to me. Promise. I’ll be okay,” I state the truth. Clay Garcia has literally done more for me than both of our parents combined.
“I’m stating this for the record: I don’t like this, and I’m going to be checking on you religiously. I should have gone with you,” Lennon drones. The worry wart in her is about to be at an all-time high.