My playlist of songs about cheating husbands and walking away blared through my speakers, and if I turned it up any more, people in the next state would complain. Shania Twain’s song “Whose Bed Have Your Boots Been Under?” made me laugh. My ex had never worn boots in his life.
My foot rested heavy on the accelerator. There wasn’t enough road between Virginia and Texas to leave my past behind, but that didn’t stop me from trying.
Starting over at forty-eight was not what I’d penned in my five-year plan. But my lying, cheating, horrible excuse for a husband left me with little choice. If I never saw him again, it would be too soon. If I ever saw any man, it would be too soon.
In my plan to start over, I picked a place where I didn’t know anyone. San Antonio. My ex would never look for me there. He probably wouldn’t look for me anywhere except for the fact that I’d taken the cat. But rightfully, Princess was mine. He just refused to admit it.
Back to my perfect plan—it had one flaw. Pretty sure there were men in Texas, probably the boot-wearing kind. But I didn’t have to be shopping to enjoy browsing.
First item on my agenda was to find a job. I needed money. I had a pittance in the bank—my ex somehow made sure I didn’t leave with much of his money. And I was driving the only valuable asset I’d gotten after that slimy man found a younger, faster model.
The cat I’d quietly slipped out of the house when I left town no longer qualified as a valuable asset. I’d stopped to have her fixed as soon as I crossed the state line.
I loved Princess. He wanted to breed her.
My kitty slept peacefully inside her crate thanks to the happy pills the vet had given me. I had one left. I opened the door to the crate and stroked her head.
“How are you, Princess?”
Even with the outrageously loud music, she didn’t flinch.
Taking the less-traveled road from Dallas—the one to the west of the interstate that the girl at the hotel had suggested, promising open roads, scenic landscape, and little traffic—had made for a smooth drive. I had no complaints.
The farther I traveled from the life I’d lived, the freer I felt. A fresh start was exactly what I needed.
As I crested a hill, I gasped at the scenic view. Pink, golds, and a fiery orange were painted on the sky.
That gasp startled Princess. I didn’t have time to swing the crate door closed before she was running circles around my car.
What happened to the groggy kitty who took twenty minutes to wake up yesterday?
She stopped in front of me, blocking my view of the road. A semitrailer blew past me, honking his horn.
“Princess, seriously. I did not drive all this way to die alone in the middle of nowhere. Quit.”
Running laps, she blocked my view of the road every three seconds. I needed to find a place to pull off.
The cat continued her manic sprint, and I searched for a place to turn off.
I hadn’t traveled far when red-and-blue lights came on behind me. Stopping on the shoulder wasn’t optimal, but I had no choice. Starting a car chase wasn’t how I wanted to kick off my life in San Antonio.
A guy wearing a cowboy hat and boots strode toward my car. His reflective sunglasses made it impossible to gauge his expression. Would crying get me out of this? That probably only worked for younger women. With my luck, crying would irritate him.
Smiling like a cat wasn’t shredding my upholstery, I put the window down less than an inch. “Hello, Officer.”
“Ma’am, you were weaving and driving erratically. Is there a prob—” That’s when he spotted Princess running laps. “That cat is gonna get you killed. She ain’t one of them normal cats, is she?”
“She’s an exotic. But she’s legal.”
“I don’t care what kind of cat she is. Get off the highway until she calms down. Bartlett Road is right there. Just before the hill. Turn there. You can’t drive with that wild beast doing that.” He narrowed his eyes. “Otherwise, I’ll call animal control.”
“I’ll pull off and get her settled. She doesn’t like road trips.”
“That makes two of us.” One side of his mouth lifted into what might be construed as a small smile. “I’d tell you to have a nice day, but I’m not sure that’s possible.”
And he didn’t know the half of it.
“Thank you.” I stayed parked until the nice deputy, who hadn’t given me a ticket, pulled away.
Keeping one hand on the wheel and my eyes on the road, I tried to catch Princess with my free hand.
It wasn’t working.
Bartlett Road was right where he’d said it was, and I turned off. But it looked more like someone’s driveway than an actual road. At the first wide spot, I pulled off to the side.
When I stopped, Princess did too. The large cat jumped onto my shoulder and used her claws to hold on.
In my sappy sweet, I’m-trying-to-get-what-I-want voice, I coaxed her off my shoulder and into my arms. “Come here, sweet thing. I’m sorry the road trip scared you.”
Her heart pounded like she’d been chased by a dog.
The pills were in the back seat. I hadn’t planned that very well. Luckily, I had one more pouch of delectable kitty pâté. If I let her go to get the medicine prepped, she’d probably start racing circles around the car again.
So, I wrestled her into the carrier. The war was hard-fought, and I had the scratches to show for it.
With my butt in the air, I leaned into the back seat to do the pill prep. If Princess saw what I was doing, she’d ignore the food. I found her little bowl and crushed the pill into a fine powder.
I just hoped no one would stop to check on me while I was in this position. That would be embarrassing. Working quickly, I tore the top off the pouch, and horrid-smelling gravy splashed on the floorboard. My poor car.
After mixing the pill powder with the pâté, I climbed back into my seat, somehow managing not to spill any more.
Excited because of the smell, Princess turned circles in her crate.
I set the food down and shook my hands to loosen them up. Like the big play in a football game, I needed this to go well. Trying to be fast, I opened the door, slid in the food, and slammed it closed.
Princess was eating before I’d fully latched the door closed.
“Good, kitty. Eat it all up so that you can go back to sleep, and I can get back on the road.”
Looking in the little mirror in my visor, I surveyed my scratches. It looked like I’d lost a battle with a cat. But, in reality, I’d won. Looks could be deceiving.
After a deep breath, I scanned the area. The view was even better here, and with the sun sinking toward the horizon, the hills and grass were blanketed in a warm light.
This scene would make a perfect photo.
I needed lots of perfect photos to build up my portfolio. Before I became a trophy wife, photography had been my bread and butter.
A bit farther down the road would probably offer an even better shot.
The nice deputy had called this a road, and I didn’t see a No Trespassing sign. Besides, chasing the perfect shot required a bit of adventure. I hadn’t tasted adventure in years. Once Princess finished eating, I drove down the road. If it was someone’s driveway, I was impressed. With a driveway this long, the house must be gargantuan.
At a wide spot much farther from the main road, I pulled over.
“I won’t be long, Princess.” I dug my camera out of its bag. “You can let that pill work and go back to sleep.”
It had been a long time since I’d made my living as a photographer. But I never quit taking pictures. Hopefully, I could use that skill to feed myself now that I had to work for a living.
Shifting this way and that on the empty road, I composed a series of photos that captured the colorful hues painted across the sky. But my beautiful shot became even better when in the distance, a truck came into view. The white pickup kicked up dust as it moved across the rugged, open landscape.
I pressed the shutter over and over. With the truck in the distance and the sun setting behind it, the photo would be striking.
My photography session was cut short by my growling stomach. I needed to get back on the road, find dinner, and look for a place to stay for the night. Or even better, for a few weeks. Surely Princess was asleep by now.
I tucked my camera back into the bag before checking on her. Sound asleep.
After another glance at the truck, I eased back onto the bumpy, washed-out, dirt road. I made it only a few feet, and then my car made a strange sound. I turned the stereo all the way down. As if that would help anything.
The whine grew louder, but I didn’t need ears to know something was wrong. Smoke billowed from under the hood. I pulled off to the side.
I didn’t know much about cars, but I knew enough to get out of one that was smoking. Getting Princess out was no easy task. She weighed a ton and felt like twice that when she was asleep.
I set the kitty carrier in the grass, and she barely stirred. It was a good thing she’d just taken her meds because I needed her asleep while I figured how to get us out of this mess.
When a car had problems, guys always lifted the hood. That’s what I did. After fanning away the smoke, I looked at the engine and still had no clue what was wrong. The absence of fire was a plus. At least the little bit of stuff—five suitcases wasn’t exactly traveling light, but it wasn’t like I was towing a U-Haul—wouldn’t burn up in a car fire.
I grabbed my phone, wondering who to call. It wasn’t as if I’d signed up for AAA. But it didn’t matter anyway. Without a signal, I wasn’t calling anyone. The universe hated me. Of course my car would break down where there was a startling lack of humanity. I couldn’t be that far off the main road. Maybe a mile . . . or two.
I glanced back, hoping that truck had been headed this way, but because of the hills, I couldn’t even see the pickup. That road probably headed in a completely different direction.
I’d have to hoof it to the main road, then hope my little thumb would get noticed. I’d even lift a pant leg if I had to.
I stared at the car, trying to decide what to carry with me. Most of it would have to stay here until I came back for the car. I hoisted my camera bag and laptop case onto one shoulder. My purse went on my other shoulder. The overnight bag, which I’d packed for hotel stays, had wheels, thankfully. Normally, it took two hands to lug Princess, but unless I managed to grow an extra one, that wasn’t happening.
Dragging my suitcase, I clenched my jaw and trudged along the road. Those tiny wheels were useless on this dirt. I was starting to question the road part.
And why had I worn flip-flops?
Changing shoes would only delay me. Besides, I didn’t want to trek back to the car when help was in the opposite direction. As it was, I might not make it to the highway before dark. Trudging uphill, I huffed, wiping sweat and trying not to notice how close the sun was getting to the horizon.
I stopped to catch my breath. Carrying the suitcase was easier than rolling it, but I hadn’t done enough yoga to prepare me for this. I would likely collapse before I saw another human soul.
A noise behind me sparked hope. Maybe that truck was headed this way. Sure enough, that white pickup approached. Slowly, it continued past me, then brake lights glowed as it pulled to the side of the road.
I hurried forward as best I could, fully aware the remote setting made the scene the perfect opening for a horror movie. I just wouldn’t scream. It never ended well for the women who screamed.
The door swung open, and a boot met the dirt, followed by another. Great. All I need is a small-town, mansplaining hick lecturing me about cars and the dangers of traveling alone.
“Evening, ma’am.” He tipped his cowboy hat, revealing salt-and-pepper hair. “I’m guessin’ that’s your car back there.”
Oh, I was dealing with a smart one.
“Ya think?” I piled my stuff on the ground, giving my shoulders a much-needed rest. “It made a noise, then died. I don’t know what’s wrong with it.”
“Hop in. I’ll take a look.” He reached for the kitty carrier.
I stepped in front of him. “Maybe I don’t want to ride with a total stranger.”
Since we were in the middle of nowhere, if his intentions were to harm me, what would I do? It wasn’t like I could sic Princess on him. She was sleeping off her happy pill.
Laugh lines crinkled near his eyes. He lifted his hat and smoothed his hair. “Then don’t. I’ll meet you there.”
Younger than I would’ve guessed based on the silver in his hair, he could have modeled as a cowboy. Everything about him fit the part, down to his jeans, which were tight in all the right places.
He pulled away before I could change my mind.
I hoisted the bags back onto my shoulders, picked up the suitcase and the cat, and trudged back to my car. All this effort was not worth making a point.
What point? Was I trying to show him that I could manage on my own? Considering I was stranded in the sticks and needed his help, that point seemed weak.
I’d only succeeded in demonstrating how cranky I was.
After all that happened with my ex, men were unwelcome in my life. This tall handsome cowboy was no exception. But with limited options, I didn’t have the luxury of turning down help.
When I made it back to my car, he closed the hood as I caught my breath. He wiped his hands on his jeans. “Belt broke. A pretty easy fix.”
“Oh good. How long will it take you? I can pay you, but only a little.” Easy was a word I wanted to hear. There was still hope for my fresh start.
“Darlin’, I don’t have what I need to fix it.”
My anger flared, and I didn’t even try to hide it. “The name is Lilith. I am not your darlin’.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He seemed more amused than contrite, which irritated me. He glanced at the horizon where the sun was sinking low. “Where were you headed?”
“San Antonio.”
“This isn’t the road to San Antonio.” The man had the audacity to grin.
“I turned off the main road because—never mind all that.” I blew out a huff. “I decided to take pictures. I know this isn’t the road.”
“Seems like you’ve got a couple of options: stay out here or let me drive you the rest of the way.”
“What about my car?”
“It’s not like anyone can steal it.” He chuckled. “And I can’t fix it in the dark.”
His amusement reminded me of all the times my ex had dismissed me with a laugh. And I still didn’t know if I could trust this cowboy.
“I need my car.” I put my hands on my hips, wanting him to take me seriously.
“The sun is already setting. The car ain’t getting fixed in the dark, at least not by me. There might be a mobile mechanic you can call who will come out here in the dark and charge you an arm and a leg to put on a new belt.”
I wasn’t going to tell him I couldn’t afford that. “Then I don’t have much choice. I’ll ride with you.”
“My name’s Beau.” He stuck out his hand.
I didn’t shake it.
Nodding toward my bags, he asked, “May I carry those for you?”
“Yes, but I’ll grab the camera and the cat.” My body was still sore from lugging my stuff around.
He glanced at the carrier. “A what?”
“Furry creature that meows. A cat.”
“That’s what I thought you said.” He opened his tailgate and shoved my suitcase into the bed. “I guess that explains the . . .” He pointed at the scratches on my face and neck.
“Yes, but I don’t want to talk about it. Be careful with my laptop. And the rest of the stuff is in the trunk. The keys are . . .” I felt my pants, frustrated with my lack of pockets.
“Probably still in the car.” He shook his head as he reached inside and popped the trunk.
Texting a picture of his license plate to someone would probably be a good idea. But to whom? After years of marriage, cutting ties with my ex meant cutting ties with most of the people I’d called friends. Clearly, I’d been wrong for many years. They weren’t friends, not mine at least. Not a one of them hesitated to choose his side.
I opened the door. A bench seat? I hadn’t seen one of these in years. The carrier was too big to sit on the floorboard, so I shoved it to the middle of the seat.
“You might want these.” He dangled my keys. “Most people out here are trustworthy, but . . .” He shrugged. Then his gaze landed on the carrier. “The cat can sit by the door.”
“Seriously? What’s your problem? You don’t like cats?”
“Cats are fine . . . in a barn. I can put that thing in the bed if you’d prefer. It won’t tumble out.”
“Princess isn’t riding in the back.” I yanked her close to the door, buckled her carrier into place, then stomped around to the driver’s side.
This day could not get any worse.
