“Everything all right?” I ask.
She crosses her arms over her chest. “I’m just waiting for a ride.”
The way she says it tells me that ride is taking its sweet time.
“Do you need assistance?” I ask.
“No,” she says quickly. “I’m fine.”
She glances down the road. “My cousin is coming to get me—eventually.”
I nod slowly, then look past her toward the employee lot. “Where’s your truck?”
She sighs. “It started running hot yesterday. So, Daddy took it into town this morning to have someone look at the radiator. Every other ranch truck we own is currently being used, so …”
“So, you were dropped off.”
She nods. “Yep.”
I glance at the takeout container I’m carrying.
“Has he left yet?” I ask.
Her mouth tightens slightly. “Not yet.”
I suppress a smile.
“He says he’ll be on his way in about fifteen minutes. Which can mean anything from ten minutes to two hours in Cabe speak.”
“Well,” I say after a long pause, “have a good evening, Miss Storm.”
“You too,” she mutters as I step off the curb.
I make it about ten feet.
Then sigh.
And stop.
Because leaving her standing there, waiting on a cousin who hasn’t even left the ranch yet, feels … wrong.
I turn back to her.
She’s pacing with her head down.
“Actually,” I call, “I could take you home.”
Her head shoots up, and she blinks at me.
“That’s not necessary.”
“I’m heading into Wildhaven anyway.” I hold up the cardboard box. “I just need to stop by my grandfather’s place first to drop off his dinner. So, if you don’t mind a quick pit stop, I’d be happy to give you a ride so you don’t have to stand around, waiting.”
She hesitates. “I really don’t want to inconvenience you.”
“It’s no inconvenience.”
She studies my face for a moment. Like she’s trying to decide. “Okay.” She bends and picks up her bag reluctantly. “Thank you.”
