Page 121 of Rocky Mountain Devil
I could be running off on a wild-goose chase, God, but maybe you could do me a favour? Keep the stubborn man where I can track him down easily?
She’d had it up to here with Rafe’s suffering in silence. She headed for the door, trying to call in case he was just late, but when he didn’t answer, she sent a warning text then grabbed her winter coat.
“Going somewhere?”
She twirled. Her dad stood there, a suitably solemn expression on his face.
“There’s someone I need to track down,” she informed him.
He glanced at her outfit then back into the family waiting room where the Colemans continued to gather. Gabe and Allison stood at Dana’s side. The older woman looked delicate, yet her spine was straight and she held her composure as she waited for the ceremony to start.
It was pretty clear which of the Angel Colemans wasn’t there yet.
She looked into her father’s eyes and saw understanding. He cupped her cheek with his hand. “You can’t make someone do something they don’t want to do.”
“I know. But I can stand beside him. I can let him know he isn’t alone.” She offered the faintest hint of a smile. “I can tell him what I believe.”
A momentary flash of curiosity and hope lit her father’s eyes. “Maybe you and I can have a discussion later about some of those things, but for now, might I suggest different footwear if you’re going out?”
She glanced down at the delicate shoes she’d slipped on at church. Her boots to wear to the graveside weren’t much better. While she didn’t know for sure where she was going, she had a pretty good idea Rafe’d be somewhere a little less than civilized. “Suggestions?”
He pointed to a pair of oversized Uggs on the shoe rack. “Borrow mine.”
She snickered. “Oh, those will totally work. I don’t even have to remove my shoes.”
“I can’t delay the service,” he warned, “but people will understand if you’re late. Or there’s the graveside later, if that helps.”
Laurel darted in and kissed his cheek, accepting the quick hug he gave in return, along with his comforting smile.
Having her father’s blessing made heading out on her task easier. She was going to be okay.Theywould be okay, she was sure of it. Even if she couldn’t knock sense into Rafe fast enough to make it back for the funeral, she’d make a difference where it counted.
In forever.
She paused with the keys in the lock of her car, the piles of snow pushed up at the edge of the parking lot making her hesitate. She’d be safer in something a little bigger and broader. One glance around the parking lot made her choice clear.
She hauled open the door on Trevor Coleman’s enormous truck and climbed inside.
The seat was still warm, the keys dangling from the ignition. She smiled as she started up the big beast. A moment later she had the truck in gear and headed toward Rafe’s.
Her frustration slid all over the place, a lot like the tires under her. It wasn’t easy to get a grip with the heavy winter snow and ice that lay on the highway, but she was in a solid enough vehicle that she felt safe. She might be having difficulty, but she was controlling it, if just barely, and that made the difference.
Maybe control was an illusion.
She slowed before she twisted the wheel to take the driveway into Rafe’s rental, pleased to find her first guess accurate. Rafe wasn’t hiding. He was sitting there in broad daylight, tailgate of his truck lowered…
…a six-pack of beer at his side.
Laurel saw red. She had no issues with him being twisted up over how to feel about his father’s passing, but he could be miserable without the alcohol.
Thanks for keeping him here, God. Excuse me if I shout at him a little for his own good. I might need to use a few bad words to get through his thick cowboy skull.
She pulled to a stop, the heavy truck shimmying under her as she offered Rafe a dirty look. It took three seconds to get out of the truck and march over to him, slam her fists down on her hips and give him a death glare.
Temperatures were below zero and the idiot was sitting there in his suit, cowboy boots dangling toward the ground. His second best hat was jammed so far down on his head the brim nearly cut his eyes off from view.
Nearly.
She could see enough to know he was watching her closely. Weighing her reactions as he picked up the beer beside him and lifted it toward his lips.
