BUCKED:The Mountain Man’s Babies(12)
I need to take this woman to my cabin and show her that I’ll take care of her for the rest of her precious life.
My tires crunch over the gravel in the parking lot, and I jump out of the cab, ready to see her again.
My parents are arguing, which, truth be told, is not exactly their mode of operation. They get along, are willing to do anything for one another. Hell, my mom was running around the property today chasing my dad’s dumbass dogs.
“What’s up?” I ask, the door jangling behind me. I scan the diner for Rosie, but she isn’t here. “Where’s Rosie.”
“That’s the problem, Buck. She’s gone.”
“What do you mean, gone?” I ask, immediately on the offensive. “You know there were two guys packing heat, looking for her, right?”
“Her?” mom asks. “Buck, you said they were here, trying to rob the diner, you said nothing about Rosie.”
“Fuck,” I shout, my hands running through my hair. “When did she leave? I’ve been gone about an hour.”
“It must have been minutes after you left. She went to the bathroom to freshen up and after awhile, I went looking for her. The backdoor was slightly ajar, and she was gone.”
“Did you go after her?”
My dad nods. “Yeah, we walked the property, checking to see if she was out there, hell, maybe taking out the trash or something, but she wasn’t anywhere.”
“We even called the motel,” Mom says. “Apparently she checked out, Janice running the front desk said she was really a sweet thing, but said she had a family emergency and needed to leave, even though she’d paid cash for the entire week.”
“Shit,” I press a fist in my palm. “This is bad. Those guys probably came back.”
“Did she know them?” my mom asks, her eyes wide.
“Yeah, the guys were looking for her, but I don’t know why. This is fucking messed up.”
“Language, Buck.” Dad frowns.
“You do realize two men with guns just took Rosie against her will, and that we have no way of tracing them?”
Dad shakes his head. “Not against her will, son,” he says, crossing his arms. “She left here on her own accord. Truth be told, it doesn’t sound like she was very stable. Hitchhiked to middle-of-nowhere Idaho with men after her.”
“You hired her Mom, do you have her name, social security number or something for tax purposes?” I ask, grasping for a clue, something. Anything.
Mom grimaces. “You know I’m not exactly the best at business. I figured I’d pay her under the table until I decided if she was a good fit.”
“This is so messed up.” I pace the diner, desperate. Lost. Wanting so much for Rosie to be here so I could take her home. “I’m going to the motel, maybe she left a clue. And I’ll call the Sheriff, obviously”
“Why are you so interested in this girl, Buck,” Dad asks.
“It’s not some girl. Rosie is my woman.”
“Sweetie, you just met. Looks like she made you lunch and you saved her from the men, but it was only an hour. How much can you know in that length of time?”
I shake my head, not having any of it. “Sometimes you just know. And I know Rosie and I aren’t through. She and I – we’ve just begun.”
The next night I walk into Jaxon and Harper’s home exhausted. I feel beat up, battered and bruised.
“Dude, you look like shit,” Jaxon says, offering me a cold one.
I take a long pull on the beer and follow him to the kitchen. Harper is pulling the potpie from the oven, a salad is tossed and on the island. And all three of their babies are in identical highchairs in various states of disarray. Food in their hair, on their faces, and what looks like mashed up, steamed carrots painted all over their highchair trays.
“Hello, Bucky,” Harper says, giving me a hug, her hand still wearing a potholder. She’s the only person I put up with calling me Bucky, mostly because you don’t say no to a woman like Harper.
She’s grown into a strong, determined woman over the course of the last year. Hell, getting married and having three babies at twenty-one is an impressive feat. But the thing with Harper is, you know she is living her life to the absolute fullest.
“Bucky you look exhausted. Which is saying something considering we’re the ones with the triplets,” she says, giving me a once over.
“It’s been a hell of a twenty-four hours.”
“Tell me everything,” Harper says, handing me the salad bowl, and weaving to the table. “Jax, love, can you grab me some white wine?”
Jaxon kisses Harper’s cheek before pulling open the fridge. As he uncorks the bottle, I tell them the story with Rosie. The meal she made, the men coming after her, the bathroom, the running away.