Warning bells started blaring in his head. “She’s not with you?” His voice came out with a frantic edge.
Juliette shook her head, alarm crossing her features.
“Take care of Navy for a little longer. I’ll go find Willow.”
The barn seemed like the logical place to start. Willow spent half her life there, checking on horses, working with residents. But as he walked through the main aisle, calling her name, dread built in his gut.
Crew poked his head out of a stall in the back. “Hey, Dutch. What’s going on?”
“Have you seen Willow?”
“Not since early this afternoon. Is she back with the feed yet? Apple was pretty upset about only getting a partial feed.”
Decker’s blood turned to ice. “Back with the feed? What feed?”
Crew picked up on the roughness in his tone and stepped out of the stall he was cleaning. “The specialty feed for Apple. Willow said she’d take care of it.”
“Fuck! When did she leave?”
“I heard her truck start maybe three, four hours ago.”
Panic tried to claw its way up Decker’s throat, but he forced it down. He had to find Carson.
He rushed out of the barn and sprinted to the office. The golden yellow light glimmered in the windows, highlighting the snowflakes in the air.
He burst through the door. Carson whirled, immediately reading Decker’s face. “What’s wrong?” he barked out.
“Willow’s not here. Crew says she left hours ago to pick up feed.”
“Call her.”
He whipped out his phone. The line rang three times and went to voicemail. He tried a second time, then a third.
“Fuck! She’s not answering her phone.”
Carson was already pulling up a screen on the laptop. “We have trackers on all the ranch vehicles. GPS and satellite. Hold on.”
The other brothers materialized as if summoned, crowding into the office as Carson worked. Decker gripped the edge of the desk, fingers whitening on the wood, trying to ground himself while his mind screamed that something was very wrong.
“Calling the feed store now,” Colt said, phone to his ear. They all heard it ring and ring before going to voicemail. He lowered the phone. “Store’s closed.”
Of course it was. They closed at four p.m. today.
“Tracker’s pulling up.” Carson’s fingers flew over the keyboard. “Gas tank status shows she’s not out of fuel. Speed data says she wasn’t driving erratically. She didn’t seem to be in a panic or have an emergency. We can see she went to the feed store. But that’s her last known location.” His tone sounded hollow with concern.
“Maybe she’s just out of cell range?” Theo’s brows lowered like a storm cloud over his gray eyes—eyes so much like Willow’s.
Denver’s expression was equally as grim. “The trucks have mobile hotspots specifically so they can’t lose service in remote areas. We know how it can be in these mountains.”
“We’ll drive her route.” Carson already had his keys in hand. “See if she’s broken down somewhere the signal can’t reach.”
When they scrambled, the whole house was in a flurry of activity. The women poured into the living room, asking whatwas going on. In as few words as possible, Decker conveyed that Willow was missing.
Decker and the Malone brothers piled into two vehicles. Decker rode with Carson, watching the GPS tracker on the laptop between them as they navigated the snow-covered route to town.
The tracker showed Willow’s truck had made it to Willowbrook Feed and Seed. That should have been reassuring, but the pit in Decker’s stomach only grew deeper.
“I don’t fucking like this,” he grated out. “We need more on Cal Hensley.”
