Page 102 of Ride or Die

“What are you saying?” Clara rears back. “We’re not… safe here?”

No, you ain’t baby… I shake my head, swallowing around the lump of guilt wedged in the back of my throat. “Not if we get hit like they think we might…”

“Where are we gonna go?”

Fuck, when it looks like she’s on the verge of tears, I snap my ass into gear, climbing the porch steps and wrapping my arms around her, holding her tight and silently cursing myself for just how hard and fast she’s breathing.

“Hey, it’s okay.” I rub my hand over her back, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “We got time.”

Lifting her chin, Clara meets my eyes. “We don’t have anywhere else to go, Cole.”

I swear, I feel my heart crack. “Baby, it’s okay. Austin said y’all can stay on the ranch.”

“The ranch?” she balks, looking none too convinced.

I sniff a laugh, biting back my smirk. “I mean, you’re hardly gonna be bunkin’ in with the cowboys, darlin’.” When I feel some of the tension slip from her body, I continue. “The old farrier’s cabin’s been empty for years. And hell, even it’s better than this ol’ dump.” I offer a wry smile, trying to lighten the mood.

“It’s… safe?”

I nod because honestly, the ranch is the safest fuckin’ place in Summer. “It’s safe… there’s a storm shelter not a hundred yards away.”

Clara’s perfect lips twist to the side in contemplation. “And Austin doesn’t mind?”

I shake my head. “He said y’all can stay there for as long as you want. Hell, Mama Joy’s there right now, gettin’ it all spick ’n span.”

“I don’t wanna cause any trouble,” Clara says.

“C’mon now.” I stop her, pressing my finger against those pretty lips. “What’d I tell you?”

She looks rueful for a moment. “Accept the help.”

“’Atta girl.” I grin, leaning in to press my lips to hers in a slow, soft kiss, feeling her anxiousness melt away.

CHAPTER 38

CLARA

Ifollow Dolly’s dust trail as Cole leads the way down the long, dirt drive, past endless fields of golden grass, cacti, and red dirt, black cattle dotted about in the distance as far as I can see. In the daytime, the ranch is a lot different; less scary for sure, but so vast, it’s as if it goes on forever. I can’t help but wonder if a person got lost here, they might never be found.

Buildings come into view up ahead. A huge red barn with the ranch logo emblazoned across the main gable, smaller barns and structures, and what appears to be stables surrounded by pens with horses and a few more cattle. We continue on, following another small stretch of nothing, a small two-story house is visible off to the left, and to the right, is another two-story house. It’s smaller than the last which is when Cole slows and turns off the main drive and onto the small rocky road that leads to it.

Once we’re stopped right outside, I shut off the engine and hop out of my car, taking in the house which looks older than Cole’s but in a little better condition. It’s cute. Rustic and weathered, it looks like it was recently painted—white with blue shutters—with a tin roof, and a porch swing, its chain creaking against the afternoon breeze.

“This is it,” Cole says, hopping out of his truck.

“Where’s the storm shelter?” I ask, scanning the surroundings, desperate to get my bearings just in case.

“Just over there.” Cole points and my eyes follow the direction of his finger, spotting the hatch.

“When are the storms expected?” I ask, looking up at the sky which, in its defense, is a bright blue, save for that permanent tawny tinge I’ve come to learn is all Texas.

Cole clears his throat, tugging on the back of his neck as he looks out over the horizon. “Uh, they’re expected to start tonight… or maybe tomorrow.” He meets my eyes then, offering me a somewhat uncertain smile as he says, “You know what the weather’s like.”

I narrow one eye, looking at him closely because sure, I trust him more than I’ve ever trusted anyone, not just a man, but something feels off. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” Cole nods, quickly. Then, stepping up to me, his hands find my waist, pulling me flush against him. “I’m okay, baby.” The smile he offers me is genuine, his dimples popping into his cheeks, and it takes not only my breath away, but my doubts with it.

“You’re staying here with us,” I begin, looking up at him hopefully. “Aren’t you?”