She stiffened.
“It’s just a dance,” he murmured.
She stepped into his arms, rigid and stiff. Her eyes locked with his and took his breath away. He didn’t know how to win her love, but as fireworks lit up the sky, he couldn’t stop himself from whispering, “I love you, Poppy.”
> Chapter Seventeen
Poppy glanced at the clock. It was eight o’clock and she’d just rung up the last customer. She locked the door and turned over the sign to Closed. As far as openings went, she knew this one had been good. But she was tired and hoping one or two of the applications she’d received would be good enough to hire. Her dream had been to have her own shop, but that didn’t mean she wanted to spend every hour of every day here.
She’d rather be with Rowdy and Toben. They’d had big plans for the day. She didn’t know what their big mystery trip was about, but she knew they were picking up everything they’d need for Cheyenne before picking up the dog and taking her home.
It was so late and she was so tired she decided to see if she should bring something home for dinner. She called, but it went straight to voice mail.
She put the money in the safe, yawning, then flipped off the rest of the lights.
She heard sirens again, but there had been a lot of them these past couple of days. First the parade, then several small fires caused by people setting off fireworks. The grass was so dry it didn’t take much to get a real blaze going.
As she stepped out and locked the front door, a fire truck flew by, followed by an ambulance. She frowned, hoping everyone was okay.
She called Toben’s phone again. Still no answer. Whatever they were doing, she hoped they were having fun. The prospect of Cheyenne’s homecoming and a day alone with his father had Rowdy too excited to sleep even after the rodeo and fireworks the night before. She’d put him to bed, lying at his side until his breathing had steadied and the house had fallen quiet.
Only then did she go to bed, alone, missing the feel of Toben’s heartbeat beneath her cheek. He’d told her he loved her, then helped her load Rowdy up—no expectation of anything else. She’d called Mitchell then, waking him up to spill her every fear and worry and hope and dream.
“Will you regret not giving him a chance, Poppy? You don’t want to live with regret, trust me.” Mitchell’s mumbled answer had made her toss and turn the rest of the night.
She climbed into the truck and headed to the café, where she picked up a few burgers and milk shakes. Then she topped off her gas tank and headed home. She’d crossed the first bridge when a truck pulled up behind her, flashing its lights. She pulled onto the shoulder to let the truck pass. It didn’t. It kept flashing until she stopped her truck. Her stomach twisted sharply, unease pricking up the hairs on the back of her neck.
Did Stonewall Crossing have undercover cops? But she hadn’t been speeding. She looked in her rearview mirror...
“Poppy?” It was Fisher Boone. And Ryder. “You heading home?”
She nodded, rolling down the window. “Everything okay?”
Fisher and Ryder exchanged looks. “I need to tell you something, but I need you to stay calm. I’ll drive, okay?” Fisher offered.
Ryder headed back to his truck, climbed in and flew past them.
“I can drive,” she said, her throat tightening. “So tell me... What’s going on?”
“There’s a fire, Poppy. At your place.” He opened her truck door. “Rowdy is fine.”
A fire. Her mind went blank. A fire. She stared at Fisher. “A fire? Rowdy?” she repeated.
“He’s fine. Rowdy is fine.”
He was fine. Rowdy was fine. Her heart tightened, her chest so heavy it hurt to draw in breath. “Toben?” He had to be okay. Why was she was shaking, so hard and so fast her teeth were rattling? She repeated, panicking, “Toben?”
“He’s okay. Let me drive.”
“O-okay,” she said, sliding over. “Fast.”
The rest of the drive was a blur. She felt sick, her head and stomach unable to calm down, no matter how many times Fisher told her Rowdy was okay. She didn’t believe it, couldn’t. She had to see him, to hold him in her arms and breathe him in.
And Toben? He had to be all right—for both of them. She loved him. She needed him.
The sun was fading, but the column of black smoke was visible from the road. So much smoke. She tried not to imagine how scared Rowdy was. Toben was there. He’d keep him safe. She rubbed her hands on her thighs, shaking her head. The house didn’t matter. As long as they were okay, that was all that mattered. But, please, God, let them be okay.
She was out of the truck before they’d come to a complete stop, staring at the smoking, blackened mess that had been her house...