Page 12 of Rawhide and Ransom

“Aww, you’re giving me internet privileges?” she mocked. “I feel twelve again.” She didn’t hesitate to tap out a URL address with one hand and pulled up a common messenger application. “If you try to slap any parental controls on my account, I’m outta here.”

It was an idle threat. They both knew it. To save her pride, he graced her words with a snort as he reached around her to type in his user name. “There. Now you can send me a friend request.”

“We have to be friends, too?” she whined, tapping out a friend request. “The next thing you know, you’ll be?—”

“Bringing you a breakfast burrito,” he interrupted, glaring at her as he pulled out his cell phone to accept her friend request and send her a text message. Fortunately, he already had the app installed. “It’s rough all over, kid. Welcome to adulthood.” Her rocky journey to her eighteenth birthday made his heart ache.

She read his message. “This is a test? That’s all you have to say to your newest, coolest friend?”

He sent her an emoji of a gnat as he headed for the door.

“That’s not funny,” she snarled.

Yeah, it is.He shut the door in her face and swung himself into his pickup parked out front. Someday, he was going to build a garage or a carport. Until then, his beater of a truck would remain out in the elements. It was an ancient black Chevy with rust around the edges and hail damage on the hood. Nothing anyone would envy or be overly anxious to steal, but it ran well. That’s all that really mattered to him.

He set his course for downtown Heart Lake, waving two fingers at the gate attendant as he exited the rez. The rez police department had finally hired a couple of security guys to help out at the front gate. He didn’t know how the council had scrounged up the funds, but it was about time. They didn’t have the manpower to do everything themselves.

The pharmacy Prim had called Miley’s prescription into had a drive-through window, so it didn’t take him long to get what he came for. It probably helped that he’d called ahead and told them he was coming.

His favorite local diner was The Hitching Post, and it didn’t have a drive-through. Since it was Saturday, the parking lot was jam-packed. He parked on the street and wove his way past the line waiting to be seated. The to-go counter had a much smaller line. He was able to place his order pretty quickly.

“Got a sick teenager at home.” Hoping the news would make them speed up his order, he raised his debit card to swipe it.

“Sorry to hear it.” The clerk sounded sympathetic. “Girl or boy?”

“Girl.” Hawk paused in mid-swipe, not sure what difference it made, but what did he know? The clerk didn’t look much older than Miley.

She smiled gleefully. “You’re gonna wanna add a frappe to your order. Trust me.”

“A what?” He stared blankly at her.

“A coffee shake.” She rolled her eyes at him like he was the dumbest person on the planet.

“Sure. Whatever.” He gestured at her to ring it up.

She hovered her finger over the appropriate button on her touch-screen. “What flavor?”

“Good question, er…” He blew out a breath. “She likes chocolate chip cookies.”

The clerk chuckled and punched a few buttons. “Chocolate it is. One of those never-fail flavors.”

If you say so.When Hawk finally swiped his debit card, he was aghast to note that the coffee shake had nearly doubled the price of his order.

“My daughter loves all those froo-froo drinks,” a husky female voice piped up near his elbow.

Hawk turned his startled gaze to the stranger seated at the bar. She was wearing a wrinkled uniform emblazoned with the logo of a dry cleaning company he didn’t recognize.

As their gazes clashed, he stood riveted. The woman was an older version of Miley. It was the only way to describe her. Her tousled blonde hair was tucked into the same ponytail, and loose strands dangled in front of the same shell-shaped ears. She had a similar sprinkling of freckles across her nose and cheeks, and she was as painfully thin as her daughter.

“You have a daughter, too, huh?” Her hands were cupped around a mug of black coffee, and there was an agonized glint in her sapphire blue eyes that tore straight to his heart.

“Actually, she’s not mine.” Before he could say anything else, a waitress sauntered over to them and slid a to-go box in front of Miley’s mom.

“Sorry, ma’am. We don’t have any openings right now, but my boss said your breakfast is on us.”

It sounded like she was job hunting. Admiration for her welled inside Hawk. He leaned her way to draw her attention back to him, hoping to erase some of the pain in her eyes with what he said next. “The kid I’m bringing breakfast to is an eighteen-year-old spitfire I found hiding in my workshop yesterday.” Without dropping her gaze, he pointed toward the rez on the south side of town. “On the rez a few miles down the road.”

The woman’s eyes glazed over, and she swayed on her stool.

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