Chapter Five
Tyler drove through the pasture, bumbling over ruts, as Heather’s thigh brushed against his with each jolt in his classic truck cab.
He took in the carnage. Thaddeus’s texts about the damage had been bleak, but seeing it? What had been pristine and idyllic pasture and historic facilities, was going to take a lot more than a hammer and some nails to fix.
Fencing down. Trees down… His heart literally clenched. The siding from the original 140-year-old barn was ripped off, leaving the herd anxious and befuddled inside. The old silo, after all that refurbishment costing almost a mil, taken off at the top like a kid had knocked down a block tower. Debris littered the ground as far as his eye could see. Miraculously, the historic farmhouse was still standing except for a couple shutters ripped off and flung probably into neighboring Cherokee County. In the distance, the storm cellar door pushed open from the ground as his men filtered out and Frodo bounded to freedom. Thank God, the dog had gotten the cow back in time.
Heather clutched the oh-shit handle in his periphery while the truck rumbled over old tractor ruts and his hand reflexively flung out to hold her back to the seat. A dad move if there ever was one. He dropped his hand as yesterday’s mail bounced off the dash. She caught it in her lap.
He took it from her. Termination paperwork for a piece of property out west he’d been under contract for but bailed on, and an invitation to Travis R. Dixon and Skylar J. Rivers-Dixon’s marriage ceremony for Tyler and a plus-one, which seemed like a slap in the face because his bros knew he didn’t have someone to bring. It was either a not-so-subtle hint, or an oversight.
Toby’d seen the aftermath of his divorce. Had dragged him out to that shitty bar back home all those years ago to celebrate his newfound freedom in hopes of cheering him up. The pissant ought to know better than anyone that after getting raked over the coals, Tyler was done.
His truck, Blue Rocket, roared into the gravel drive in front of his farmhouse. He dragged out his phone that wouldn’t stop the hell dinging and flipped it to silent, then opened his messages, expanding his chest with a pained inhale. Christ. Toby, Travis, T.R., not to mention a couple friends from town had stacked his messages ten feet thick. Where to begin? He glanced at Heather. He’d start with her and rattled off a message to his cousin.
Tyler:What’s the status on the guest cabin?
A reply ellipsis wavered back.
Thaddeus:Hello to you, too. What, my string of texts for the past twenty minutes have been read-only or something?
Tyler smirked at his phone.
Tyler:Been preoccupied. Cabin?
Thaddeus:Haven’t checked it out yet and why? It’s the least important thing. Where the hell have you been? Shit, we’ve been worried, man. Your bros are blowing up my phone cause you ain’t answering yours.
Tyler shook his head to himself. No way in hell could he admit who he’d just rescued. T.R. had drunk texted his brothers that he’d gotten laid last night and already Toby had lit up his phone like joints at a Willie Nelson concert to demand details. He loved his brothers’ bullshit, but he hated their pity, and he knew pity was at the root of their teasing him, thinking he couldn’t score a date when he didn’t want to score one.
Tyler:Got my hands full. Had to ride the storm out in the culvert under the frontage road.
Thaddeus:Shoot. You was nowhere to be found. Finally had to git to the storm shelter.
Tyler sighed. Heather cleared her throat. Holding up the wedding invite he’d somehow missed while snatching the mail. He snagged it now and jammed it between his thighs with his other mail.
“Who’s your plus-one?” She waggled her brows playfully.
He harrumphed. “Don’t got one.”
“Really?” She looked surprised. “I would think you’d have no problem scoring a date.”
His body buzzed with her proximity, and he ignored the weird sensation her remark evoked.
“Didn’t say I couldn’t get one.” Side-eying her, he returned to his texts and thumbed out a new message.
Tyler:Land surveyor showed up. Broke down on the road. Couldn’t leave her there but couldn’t make it back in time. Had to rescue her.
T.R.’s response popped right back.
Thaddeus:Her?
Tyler:As in female, yeah.
All blasted female, and feminine, and warm and unexpected. He’d assumed the name Heart on the cabin lease had been a typo or short for something like Hartford. His eyes flitted sidelong at her bare thigh again, her bare face, so fresh and unvarnished.
Thaddeus:That hero complex of yours is getting it’s ego stroked, isn’t it?
Tyler:What the hell? You’d have done the same.