Chapter Two

The following Saturday, Creed cursed under his breath as the biting cold snow and ice pelted his face. He hunched his shoulders, pulling his hat down to shield himself, but the frigid wind still cut right through him like a sharp knife. He should be home, sitting in his recliner, enjoying a movie since he was usually off on Saturdays, but no one had been available today, so he was called in.

Finally reaching the house, he trudged up the steps and knocked on the door. Relief flooded over him when an older man answered and he could hopefully get out of this cold.

"Mr. Fields? I'm Agent Creed McBride with the Montana department of livestock. I understand you have some cattle missing?" He flashed his badge for verification.

"Yes, come inside son before you freeze your balls off."

Creed couldn't help but smile at the man's blunt hospitality. "I appreciate that."

He removed his hat and stomped his boots on the welcome mat before entering the warm house.

"Would you like a cup of coffee?" Mr. Fields offered.

"If it's not too much trouble, sir."

"Not at all. Take your coat off and have a seat. It'll just be a minute."

"Thank you, sir." Creed hung his coat and hat on hooks by the door before settling at the table.

"Here you go, son. That'll warm you up."

"Thanks." Creed took a grateful sip of the hot liquid, feeling it spread warmth throughout his body. He set down his mug and watched as Mr. Fields poured himself a cup and joined him at the table.

"I certainly appreciate you coming out in this weather, Agent McBride."

"It's no trouble, and please, call me Creed."

"I'm Art. I raise Herefords and I'm missing ten head. I don't have a lot of land, just seventy-five acres, so we're able to keep up with the headcount and ear tags."

"How many do you have altogether?"

"Thirty right now, but I have five pregnant cows."

"I see. Is your fence damaged?"

"No. Whoever stole them did it by simply opening the gate. They drove a truck in, loaded the cattle, and drove off. We followed the tire tracks as far as we could but they disappeared before the road, so we couldn't see which direction they headed." He shook his head in frustration. "I hate rustlers and I appreciate all MDOL does for ranchers and farmers, but those thieves don't care who they hurt along the way."

"No, sir, they don't. I'll head out there and see if I can find any clues. There's been a lot of thefts reported in this area lately and we're doing everything we can to put a stop to it."

"I know you are. Maybe if the punishment for rustling went back to the old west, it wouldn't happen as often."

"Sometimes the old ways were the best. I'm sure knowing you'd be hanged for livestock theft would deter any man." Creed grinned.

"I know it would make me think twice." Mr. Fields laughed. "My granddaughter should be here in a few minutes. She can show you where the gate is."

"I'd appreciate it. The only issue is that with all this snow lately, I might have trouble seeing anything."

"Yes, I thought about that too. They took the cattle before the snow, but we still weren't able to follow their tracks beyond the field's end."

"I'll do my best."

"That's all I can ask of you."

"Is there any chance you have them microchipped?"

"I do."

"Good. I'll get in touch with auction houses."

The door opened and Creed watched as Abbie Wells entered the kitchen with a surprised expression upon seeing him. After freezing for a moment, she sighed and hung up her coat. She then approached her grandfather and kissed his cheek before turning to face Creed.

"Mr. McBride," she said.

"Ms. Wells." He nodded.

"You two know each other?"

"We've met, Pap." She looked at Creed. "How do you know my grandfather?"

"We just met. I'm here to investigate the stolen cattle."

Her eyebrows shot up. "You're from MDOL?"

"Yes, ma'am." He stood up from his chair. "If you could show me which direction to go, Mr. Fields, I'll get started."

"Abbie can help you with that."

"Pap—"

"It's fine, Mr. Fields. I'm sure I can find my way to the gate."

"Abbie, please show the agent where the gate is. I don't want to be out in this weather."

Creed ran his hand over his mouth as he watched her take a deep breath, roll her eyes, and put on her coat.

"I'll show you," she said as she opened the door and stepped onto the porch, looking back at him.

"Yes, ma'am." He grabbed his coat and hat from the hook, followed her onto the porch, and looked out into the snow. "If you just tell me where to go, I won't trouble you anymore."

"Oh, I could definitely tell you where to go," she muttered under her breath, causing him to burst out laughing. He saw her smile in response.

"Alright. We'll take my truck in case I need anything from it."

"Okay then."

They descended the steps and headed toward his truck. Creed walked around to open the passenger side for Abbie, who seemed surprised but thanked him with a smile as she climbed in. He closed the door, walked around to the driver's side, and got in.

"Just tell me where to go," he said, suppressing his laughter but chuckling when she did.

"We didn't exactly get off on the right foot, did we?"

"No, we didn't. I apologize for giving you such a hard time."

Abbie shrugged. "It's okay. I wasn't much better."

"Truce?" Creed offered his hand and she shook it.

"Truce." She pointed to an open gate. "Through there, and follow it to the fork, then take a left. I'll show you from there."

"Alright," he said as he started the engine and followed her directions.

"How long have you been working as a livestock agent?" she asked.

"Twenty-one years. What do you do for a living?"

"I'm an emergency department nurse at Clifton General."

"That must keep you busy."

"Some days are absolutely chaotic."

"I can only imagine."

"Do you need any specific degree or training to become a livestock agent?"

"No, but it definitely helps. I have a Bachelor's degree in animal husbandry."

"Oh, I see. Can I ask you something personal?"

He shrugged casually. "Sure, but that doesn't guarantee I'll answer."

"Fair enough. How did you get that scar?" She gestured toward his cheek. "As a nurse, I'm always curious about these things."

"To be honest, I have no idea," he replied with a hint of frustration in his voice.

"What do you mean?"

"I have no memory of the night it happened."

"None at all?"

"No, ma'am."

"Were you alone when it happened?"

"No. There were four of us on the job that night. We had received information from a CI, a confidential informant, about the location of some rustlers. We left the office to apprehend them but after that, everything is a blank. One of my colleagues was fatally shot—"

She gasped in shock. "Oh my God, was it Mac Carter?"

"You knew Mac?" he asked.

"Yes, his wife Lorna is my best friend."

"It's a small world," he remarked. "So, you also know Eli then?"

"Not well, but I've met him through Lorna. He blamed himself for so long after Mac died, but it wasn't his fault."

"I may not remember that night, but I do know it wasn't his fault. From what I was told, the rustlers were using armor-piercing bullets and Mac was gone before he hit the ground. Eli couldn't have done anything to save him, even if he had been able to get to him."

"I think Lorna's persistence about that finally paid off. They're very happy."

"Eli is a good man, too."

"I like him. So, with four of you, didn't they tell you what happened?"

"They were all taken down before anything happened to me, but Alex told me I managed to get a call out for backup." He shook his head in disbelief. "I don't remember any of it. I was in a coma for months."

"Oh, my goodness, were you hit in the head?"

"Yes. The doctor said it was blunt force trauma, along with three cracked ribs, two broken ribs, a broken nose, a gash on my face, and two gunshot wounds. He said I was lucky to survive. I had a concussion and a traumatic brain injury. They didn't expect me to live. They had to do surgery to relieve the swelling."

"It must be difficult not remembering anything, but maybe it's for the best."

"My mom says the same thing." He sighed. "I do remember waking up and seeing her by my bedside, but I had no idea who she was."

Abbie gasped in sympathy. "I can't imagine how heartbreaking that must have been for her."

"She cried when I asked her who she was, but eventually memories of her and my dad, friends, and wife came flooding back. But that night... it's still a blank."

"You're blocking it out."

Creed chuckled. "That's exactly what my therapist used to say."

Abbie's smile was tinged with sadness as she asked, "Do you recall anything from earlier that day?"

"I remember the feeling of anticipation as we gathered in the office early that morning. We were meeting in the conference room to discuss our plans for the stakeout that night. The rustlers had been causing trouble and we wanted to catch them in the act. I sat at the table with Dave, our boss, Alex, Eli, and Mac. We strategized and agreed on a time to meet back at the office before going our separate ways for the day. That's all I can remember."

"But you remember everything before that?"

"Yes."

"I agree with your therapist, you're blocking it out." Abbie directed Creed to make a left turn. He followed her instructions until they reached a gate, where he parked the truck.

As they stared out at the blowing snow, Creed couldn't help but mutter, "Damn, I hate getting out in this."

Abbie grinned mischievously. "I think I'll just sit right here and stay warm."

"Thanks a lot," Creed replied sarcastically.

"Hey, do I look like a livestock agent to you?" she joked.

Creed looked at her with amusement. "None of the ones I work with." With a resigned sigh, he braved the freezing snow and wind as he opened his door and stepped out into the stormy weather, while pulling on gloves.

****

Abbie's eyes followed Creed as he made his way toward the gate, using his hand to keep his hat in place. She couldn't even begin to imagine what he went through that fateful night. It must have been terrifying for all of them, but Creed didn't remember any of it.

Abbie couldn't help but wonder about the cause of his wife's death, but she knew better than to bring it up. She realized with surprise that she wanted to know more about him, despite their initial encounter where he had rubbed her the wrong way. He wasn't actually rude; perhaps he was just having a rough day. Plus, she couldn't deny that he was extremely handsome even with the scar and broken nose. Even though at first, she didn't think he was, but there was something very sexy about the man.

The jagged scar running through his cheek lent an air of danger to him, only adding to the already alluring aura of his dark good looks. As he walked through the open gate, his gaze remained focused on the ground, though she knew the thick layer of snow must have obscured much of what he could see.

Suddenly, he crouched down and began brushing away the snow from something hidden beneath it. She couldn't help but admire his determination, even in the midst of such freezing temperatures. The blinding snow continued to blow sideways, but he remained steadfast in his task.

After a few minutes, Abbie watched as he started heading back toward the truck, still keeping his head tilted down against the biting wind. She noticed him pause to pull up the collar on his sheepskin coat and couldn't help but smile at his tenacity despite the harsh weather.

As he climbed into the truck and moved to close the door behind him, a gust of cold air blew in and made her shiver. She couldn't resist teasing him.

"Close the door," she said with a mischievous glint in her eye.

He stopped, raising an eyebrow at her.

"Hey, if I have to be cold out here, so do you," he quipped with a grin.

"Where's the logic in that?"

He chuckled and shook his head in amusement before closing the door behind him.

"There is none," he replied with a playful smirk, removing his hat and running a hand through his thick, dark hair. Abbie had to clench her fists to stop herself from reaching out and doing the same.

"Did you find something?" she asked eagerly.

"I think I may have found the tracks your grandfather mentioned seeing," he answered with a note of frustration in his voice. "But with all this snow, it's impossible to follow them. Your grandfather said they disappeared before reaching the road, so there's no way of knowing which direction they went." He sighed heavily, clearly disappointed.

"What happens now?"

"I'll run the photos of the tracks through our database to see if we can match them, and then I'll look into any other thefts that may be related."

"Thank you for coming out in this weather."

"It's all part of my job. Let's head back so we can warm up."

"You must be freezing in those cowboy boots."

"These are actually insulated, so they're warmer than you'd expect."

"Cowboys and their boots."

"Yes, ma'am." He winked at her, causing her heart to race.

He put the truck in gear and drove them back to the house, pulling up beside the porch.

"Would you like some coffee before you go? It'll help warm you up."

He hesitated briefly, but then nodded.

"That would be great, thank you."

"Okay, come inside." She opened the door and braced herself against the snow as she ran up the steps. She heard Creed laughing behind her, but she was too cold to care and just needed to get inside.

He wiped his feet on the mat and removed his hat as he followed her. She held the door for him and they entered the kitchen.

"You can take off your coat and hang it up. I'll make you a cup of coffee." She hung up her own coat and beanie before going to the coffee machine, inserting a K-cup, and pressing brew.

She stood by the kitchen counter; her arms crossed as she observed Creed. He met her gaze with equal intensity as he took off his coat and hung it on a chair. His hat found its place on the seat.

"Did you see anything out there, Agent?" her grandfather inquired upon entering the room.

"I'm sorry, sir. The snow made it almost impossible to spot anything," Creed replied. "I did manage to snap some photos of the tracks though."

"Don't worry about it, son. You're doing your best."

"I'll run them through the database, but I couldn't make out where they went," Creed continued.

"I figured as much with the snow," her grandfather said understandingly.

"Yes, sir. But I won't give up on it."

"I know you won't. You livestock agents always go above and beyond, and I appreciate that." Her grandfather then turned to Abbie. "I'm going to watch my shows now, sweetie. Come join me once you've warmed up."

"I will, Pap," Abbie promised.

"Creed, it was nice meeting you. I'm sure we'll see each other again."

"Yes, sir. I'll keep in touch." Creed shook his hand.

"Here's your coffee," Abbie said as she placed a steaming cup in front of him.

"Thanks." He took a sip from the cup.

"Please, have a seat."

"I'll stand, thanks. I'll finish my coffee then head out. I want to start examining those tracks."

"Alright..." she trailed off, staring at him.

Creed finished his coffee, placed the cup in the sink and turned to face her. "Thank you for showing me where to go," he said with a smirk, causing her to laugh.

"No problem. I hope you find something."

"Me too, although with this weather it'll be tough. Once the snow clears up, hopefully I'll have a better chance at spotting the tracks."

"So, springtime then?" She flashed a smile.

"If we're lucky." He put on his coat. "Do you live here?"

"No, I have a townhouse near the hospital. I come to visit my grandfather on my days off."

"I see. Well, have a good rest of the day." He nodded and opened the door, stepping out onto the porch.

Abbie followed him to the door, her heart racing with anticipation. She hoped he'd ask to see her again. She watched as he put his hat on, then turned to face her. His intense gaze met hers and she couldn't help but feel a flutter in her stomach. He nodded, a small smile playing on his lips, before walking toward the steps.

"Creed?" her voice trembled slightly.

"Yeah?" He faced her fully now, leaning against the railing of the porch.

"Would you like to have dinner sometime?" Oh my God, Abbie, did you just ask him out? The thought echoed in her mind as she waited for his response.

A grin lifted his lips, making her heart skip a beat. "Are you asking me out?" his tone was teasing, but there was also a hint of interest in his eyes.

She raised her chin confidently. "I am."

"Just checking." He grinned. "Yeah, I'd like that."

"Next Saturday night?"

"Sure. Where are we going?"

"The Hartland?"

Creed's laughter filled the air. "Will you call Grant, or should I?"

Abbie laughed along with him. They both knew how difficult it was to get a reservation at the popular restaurant, but being friends with the owner had its perks.

"I can do it. After all, I did ask you out."

"You might have asked me out, but I'll pick you up and pay for dinner."

"But—"

"No buts," he interrupted. "I'll pick you up Saturday at six. Text me your address." He recited his number and she quickly entered it into her phone without hesitation. "I'll call Grant on my way back to the office."

"Alright, but it doesn't seem right. I invited you."

"Well, maybe you could make dinner for us one night?" Creed suggested with a smile.

Abbie couldn't help but smile back. "I could do that."

"Great. I'll let you know if there are any problems with getting a reservation. If not, I'll see you Saturday evening."

"Sounds good. Be careful out there."

"Yes, ma'am." He touched the brim of his hat, jogged down the steps, entered his truck, and drove off.

Abbie took a deep breath as she watched him leave, her heart still racing from their exchange. She stepped inside the warm kitchen and closed the door behind her, turning to head for the living room when she saw her grandfather standing in the archway. Heat filled her cheeks.

"What?"

"You asked him out," he stated with a shake of his head and a chuckle.

A small smile tugged at Abbie's lips as she remembered her bold move. "Yes, I did. I wanted to see him again and it didn't look like he was going to make a move."

"He's a nice young man. I like him. You could do worse."

"I have, Pap. I have." Abbie walked toward him, slipping her arm through his, and they went to spend the snowy day watching TV together. She couldn't wait to see Creed again on Saturday night. She hoped the week went quickly.