Page 93 of Rocky Ride

“Were you there when my mother was arrested?”

“Yes.”

“Good. She’s mean and she belongs in jail. I couldn’t live there anymore, and I had to move out. Are we still on for the party?”

“I’m not sure. One of your father’s guys shot my brother and if he comes home from the hospital tomorrow, I won’t be going to a party.”

“I understand. I’m sorry your brother got shot.”

“Not your fault.”

Dry Run Roadhouse. Coyote Creek. Montana.

Travis settled in on the last bar stool with a pitcher of Miller and told Jack about Virgil getting shot up at Darkers’ place.

“So sorry, Travis. He’s going to be okay, isn’t he?”

“Yeah. Might have to have physio on his left arm. The bullet went into his shoulder bone.”

“One thing about being young,” said Jack. “You have time to get over these things. You and I get shot, Travis, we’re done for.”

Travis chuckled. “I think you’re right about that. Personally, I’ve got no come-back left in me.”

Savanna came into the roadhouse an hour later, Travis told her about Virge, and she burst into tears. “I’ll go to Cut Bank and sit with him for a while tomorrow. How long does he have to stay in the hospital?”

“Don’t know yet. The doc said we’ll see how tomorrow goes.”

Shadow Mountain. West Virginia.

High on the side of Shadow Mountain in West Virginia, Bobby and Ray settled into their new cabin. They’d brought a truckload of their belongings with them—still to be unloaded—and were enjoying sitting on the old wooden front porch watching the sun go down.

“Sure is beautiful up here,” said Ray, gazing up at the sky.

“Write a song about it,” said Bobby. “I’m making a list of what we need to get by. We’ll drive down the mountain into the town tomorrow and load up on groceries now that we know the old fridge works.”

“We need a dog,” mumbled Ray, “to complete this picture.”

Bobby laughed. “Yeah, you’re right. Dog is next.”

Ray strummed a few chords and started singing a new song about living in the mountains with an old hound dog.

Bobby laughed at the words.

Nashville International Airport. Tennessee.

Trying to hide his distress, Mason put Annie on a plane to Texas. “I’ll poke around for a couple more days trying to find a trail before I give up. I can hardly bear to see you go home.”

“I’ve enjoyed our time together so much, Mason.”

“It meant a lot to me, Annie.”

“If you decide to take a job working for me, just call. We always have openings for excellent people.”

“I’ve lived this bounty hunter life on the road so long, I don’t think I’d make a very good cop, but thanks for the offer.”

“I’ll call you if we have anything else come up you might be interested in.”

Mason pulled her into his arms and kissed her at length. Much longer than just a goodbye kiss.

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