Page 7 of Starcrossed Colorado

Figured, didn’t it?

I still didn’t know what she’d been doing out here that night. Or what secret she’d been keeping. I probably never would. But the sympathetic faces of those deputies reappeared in my mind. Their words echoed.

There’s been an accident.

I rubbed my forehead. A headache throbbed between my eyes.

Then I saw a figure up ahead by the side of the road. Long legs, long hair. Like a ghost appearing out of the past, if I’d believed in things like that. But this person was real.

Realstupidfor walking along the shoulder where she’d easily get hit.

Carrying something bulky, too. She’d have trouble getting out of the way if a car came toward her. It pissed me off so much my vision feathered.

What did this girl think she was doing, being so careless?

Then she turned and stuck her arm out, thumb pointed up. Hitchhiking, of all the idiotic things. Did she have a death wish?

Nope, I wouldn’t let that happen. Not on my watch. Not tonight.

FOUR

Emma

It was a beautiful evening.Deep blue sky, orange clouds, songbirds soaring. An old wooden cabin sat in the distance. The air smelled fresh and sweet. Purple, yellow, and pink wildflowers crowded the surrounding valley, and the setting sun lit up the red rocks of the cliffs.

We passed a small white cross, a marker for someone who’d died here, which added a touch of bittersweet melancholy.

Stella smiled, tongue lolling. She was loving this too. If we weren’t beside the highway, I would’ve let her run off-leash through those wildflowers.

Yet I would’ve driven past all of this, only barely noticing it, if not for my car breaking down. “See? This summer is going to be just what we needed. I can feel it.”

After a mile of walking, though, I was slightly less enthusiastic. Had my guitar always been this heavy?

I sighed with relief when I heard a rumbling engine. Thank goodness. Somebody heading into Silver Ridge. Surely they wouldn’t mind giving little old me a ride into town. If the driver turned out to be a creep, I had my pepper spray in my satchel. And Stella.

I turned, smiled, and stuck out my thumb.

A black Dodge Ram roared along the asphalt. It had sped up, and I thought for a moment the guy was going to blow past me. But he didn’t. Instead, he slammed on his brakes, window buzzing down as he reached me.

The man inside was in his thirties. Muscular and broad-shouldered in his T-shirt. A baseball cap covered his hair. And he wasnotsmiling back.

In fact, he was scowling like I’d personally offended him.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

I sputtered a laugh. “Um, what?”

“You shouldn’t be walking out here. Much less hitchhiking. Do you have any idea how dangerous this highway is?”

I glanced right at the deserted asphalt, with its wide shoulders and nearby fields of swaying wildflowers. Glanced left. It was getting dark out, but hardly the mean streets of LA. “Did you stop just to tell me that?”

“No,” he snapped. “I assume you’re heading into Silver Ridge. I’ll take you.”

What was this guy’s problem? “You know, I think I’ll walk. Or wait for the next person to stop.”

“The next person could be a serial killer.”

“How do I know you’re not?”

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