She was the only girl in the world who prayed for spam and sales calls. But she knew in her gut that wasn’t what this was. With a quick shake of her head, she huffed an angry breath. She was being ridiculous. She had customers waiting for their orders.
Just answer the stupid phone.
That was the only way she could be sure. It wasn’t like she had anything to lose by answering. Only the life she’d spent the past six months building. Again. Not answering wouldn’t help. If it was him, they already knew where she was.
Again.
Oh, suck it up, buttercup. You brought this on yourself, and you know it.
She was the worst kind of coward, clinging to the 'ignorance is bliss' side of the fence. Knowing they’d found her—again—was better than constant worry, always looking over her shoulder. Still, her heart wasn’t ready to leave Wilder, a place just starting to feel like home.
It sucked, but no one was going to swoop in and rescue her now. Once that may have been possible, but not anymore. With a trembling finger, she swiped across the screen of her phone to answer the call.
“H-hello?” She couldn’t keep the quiver out of her voice, no matter how hard she tried.
Silence answered her, as it always did. Without saying a word, she hung up. Goosebumps prickled her arms as fear shimmered down her spine. She wasn’t sure she could do this again.
You don’t have a choice.
That was the plain and simple truth. Placing the phone back in her apron pocket, she did her best to calm her racing heart. She didn’t have time to worry about this or to make all the plans needed to start over somewhere new. She had customers waiting, but since when had that mattered?
She’d hoped Wilder would be her forever home. A place where the people accepted her and the Little who lived inside her. What did it really matter if she finally felt like she belonged? So what?
She’d left towns she loved before, many of them. But no matter what she did or where she landed, her past always caught up with her. She’d find a new town. Sure, it wouldn’t be as friendly and quirky as this one. And okay, she wouldn’t be able to be herself like she had here.
She’d started over more times than she could count. This would be no different. But it was different.
She blinked away the tears that burned her eyes. This was herlife now. Crying wouldn't change anything. People like her couldn’t expect anything better.
Maybe she should stay here and let whatever happens... happen. Six years was a long time to be on the run, constantly looking over her shoulder and checking every face to see if they were the one who would finally outsmart her, ending all of her worries forever. It almost sounded appealing.
With a huff, she straightened her shoulders and her imaginary crown. She wasn’t solving anything by standing here, wallowing in self-pity. That pitcher of Hank’s famous Morning After Miracle hangover cure wasn’t going to serve itself. After yesterday’s Friendsgiving celebration at Wild River Ranch, she had a lot of customers asking for it. She wasn’t hiding in the kitchen when she had work to do.
Pushing through the swinging kitchen door, she couldn’t help but smile. Christmas decorations filled the diner from top to bottom, especially the ceiling. Lush pine garland carpeted the ceiling, with hundreds of ornaments hanging from the boughs. It was so thick the ceiling was completely hidden. They barely needed the Christmas tree in the corner, but she was still excited about the presents sitting on the red felt skirt underneath. It was freakin’ fantastic.
The customers, happier than usual despite the many hangovers, finished everything off, making this her favorite season and her favorite spot to be. At least it had been until the calls picked back up. But she wasn’t focusing on that right now. With a pitcher in hand, Kip headed to the closest table. She had work to do.
Twenty minutes and two more pitchers of Miracle Morning After later, Kip had no choice but to wait on the three customers she hadn’t checked on: Trace Daniels, Silas Holt, and a man she’d never seen before.
Something about the stranger gave her a bad feeling. He wasn’t dressed like the tourists they usually saw. This man looked like heintended to stop in Jackson Hole but ended up in Wilder instead. With his statement piece…tan wool, double-breasted topcoat, cream turtleneck sweater (she’d bet her bottom dollar was cashmere), and matching pants…plus his espresso brown boots that screamed Saint Laurent, he stood out among the men in flannel, worn jeans, and equally worn cowboy boots.
What was a man like that doing in Wilder? Even more puzzling was his interest in her. Everything in her wanted to run back to the kitchen and hide, but that wouldn’t help. Staying alone in the kitchen would only make her an easier target.
She glanced at Trace, sitting in his booth and patiently waiting for her to join him. He was such a wonderful guy. Yesterday, at the Friendsgiving celebration, he’d been her Daddy for the day in all the games and races.
It had been the perfect day, thanks to the wolfdog Dodger, who’d knocked over the bowl of tiles used to pair people up and nipped at Trace until he reached for her tile. It was almost as if Dodger wanted them together, but that was crazy. He was just a wild wolfdog.
Nevertheless, Trace had been the perfect Daddy.
The best. Just like she’d known he would be.
A twinge of guilt pinched her chest. Lonzo would have been an amazing Daddy, too. He’d always been a caring Dom. He was a fantastic husband, too, for that brief time before she’d gotten him killed.
She hadn’t deserved Lonzo. She deserved Trace even less.
And that was enough reminiscing about old wounds. She stopped at the nearest table, ready with her pad and pencil. Only then did she see Silas, now sitting at the same table he’d occupied the last time he’d been in The Broken Bridle. She replayed everything that had happened. That had been weeks ago.
Putting on her widest, welcoming smile, she made her way to his booth. “Morning, Silas. Long time, no see. How you been? Didyou get that promotion you were hoping for at the Three Eagles Ranch?”
