Page 8 of Special Delivery Cowboy
Yeah, this soft little creature had my number already.
I was not a dog person. Cattle, horses, ranch animals that served a purpose—fine. But Mom's dogs were different. She loved them like children, showed them in competitions, cried every time a litter went to new homes. I respected the work but didn't understand the attachment.
This one, though. She settled against my chest with a soft sigh, and damned if I didn't feel something shift.
"You're going to be fine," I told her, gruffer than intended. "RoyAnn's a good person. She'll spoil you rotten."
I loaded her carrier in the passenger seat of my truck, along with the supplies Mom had packed. Formula, bottles, puppy pads, three different toys, two blankets. Enough gear for a week-long trip, not a delivery run.
Before starting the engine, I checked my phone. Weather radar showed the storm system moving in fast—faster than the earlier forecast predicted. Would hit by late afternoon, maybe sooner. If I left now and drove straight through, I'd have maybe three hours before it got bad.
Tight, but doable.
By the time I loaded up and headed out, it was already past two in the afternoon. Later than I'd wanted, but still manageable.
The first hour wasn't bad.
Highway 89 south was clear, traffic light. I kept the heat cranked for the puppy, who alternated between squeaking and trying to chew through the carrier mesh. Every few miles, I'd reach over and scratch her head through the opening.
"Almost there," I lied.
The sky darkened as I drove. By the time I passed Livingston, the first real flakes were falling. Not heavy yet, but steady. White curtain starting to form. I turned up the speed on the wipers and checked the GPS.
Fifty-three minutes to destination.
She'd gone quiet. I glanced over—she'd curled up on her blanket, shivering despite the heat pouring from the vents.
"Hey." I reached over and unlatched the carrier. She gazed up at me with those trusting eyes. "Come here."
I lifted her out and tucked her inside my Carhartt jacket, against my chest. She burrowed in immediately, her warm weight settling against my ribs. The shivering stopped.
"Better?"
She made a small sound—agreement, maybe, or comfort.
Great. Now I was having conversations with a puppy.
The snow picked up as I turned onto the highway toward Paradise Valley. What had been moderate flurries twenty minutes ago was now coming down hard. Visibility dropped fast. I slowed to forty, then thirty-five, watching the road narrow ahead of me.
This was going south fast.
The GPS chirped, then started acting up. The screen flickered. Buffered. Then froze completely, stuck on a loading screen that wasn't loading anything.
"Perfect." I tried hitting the power button to restart it. Nothing. The screen stayed frozen on that useless loading icon."Well, that's just great," I muttered. The puppy whimpered in response. "I know, baby girl. We'll figure it out."
I pulled out my phone, tried to pull up maps. No signal. Not even one bar.
Real mess.
I tried backing up, but the road was too narrow and I couldn't see where the edges were under all the snow. One wrong move and I'd slide into a ditch, and then the pup and I would both be stuck waiting for a tow truck that probably couldn't get here in this weather anyway.
Forward was the only option. Keep moving, hope the road led somewhere, hope I'd find someone who could point me in the right direction. Maybe someone here knows where RoyAnn's place is.
The animal squirmed against my chest, reminding me I was running out of time.
I crept forward, hands tight on the wheel. The road curved left, then right, winding through forest that all looked the same. Every tree, every turn, identical under all that white.
Where the hell was I?
