5. Minnie

CHAPTER 5

Minnie

I should stand up.

I should quit petting the dog that’s sitting in front of me.

I should call nine-one-one.

I should do a whole lot of things, except I’m glued to my spot looking at the green-eyed cowboy.

His slow Southern drawl is an anomaly considering the people I’ve come in contact with since landing in Colorado. The cowboy’s voice has a cadence that’s soothing yet exciting. It does something to me even in my shaken-up state. Is this what they call falling hard and fast? Because if so, I can see my future right before my eyes. The cowboy hat he has on doesn’t show very much of his hair, only dark tendrils peeking out here and there. He’s got green eyes you could get lost in for days, long lashes that I’m insanely jealous of, and a strong jawline with a dusting of more than a five-o’clock shadow. His cheeks are red, probably from how freaking bitterly cold it is right now. I probably should have looked at his hands first before going through all the trouble of having stars in my eyes.

“I am. Shaken up and all the other stuff that comes with being in an accident.” Worry, sadness, scared shitless, trying to figure out what’s my next step, and pissed at myself.

“I’d imagine so. Can’t say I’m surprised. This patch of road seems to see all kinds of accidents. Also can’t say one that’s as bad as this, though.” His voice is a balm to my otherwise quaking insides. I’m still quaking, but not from the accident. It’s because he’s moving closer. Every step he takes, his dog matches, until she drops her head between my legs, and I’m left with the only option of petting the big fluffy white ball of fur. The dog lets out a low whimper. I drop my legs to the ground, and then I’ve got a new friend on top of me.

“Is it that bad?” I look from the cowboy back to the dog, snagging a glance at his ring finger. There isn’t a band or so much as a tan line from one. Still, I’m reluctant to let my thoughts go haywire.

“Sweetheart, you’ll be lucky if they don’t total it out.” The man with no name squats down on his haunches, snagging my attention. His hand comes out, thumb sweeping over my cheek.

“Figures. Everything has been going so well until tonight.” I take a deep breath. There’s no way I can hold back what I’m about to say. My nervous habit is coming out to play no matter how much I tell myself to shut the hell up. Lennon calls it diarrhea of the mouth, and she’s not wrong. “Only I, Clementine Sinclair, also known as Minnie, would get myself into this situation. I drive from Florida on this grand adventure, the first time in my life I set out to do this without anyone, and it's been going great, no, beyond great. It’s been amazing. Not even the weather in Nebraska is as bad as tonight has been. My van is fucked up, totally screwed six ways from Sunday. I’d settled in for the night after I found a small camp that had a sign stating you could overnight park. No problem. I hunkered down, did everything as far as my nighttime routine went, and was almost asleep when someone starts banging on my door.” Clay drops his hand. Losing his touch jars me. Jesus, who am I, what is going on here, and am I the only one feeling this way?

“What do you mean someone was banging on your door?” His voice takes on a rougher tone, like he’s upset for me. Besides Lennie, no one has ever been concerned for me.

“To be fair, the guy knocking was the town sheriff. I didn’t catch his name, though. Anyway, he told to move it along. Even when I tried to tell him I dropped money in the box for overnight parking.” I couldn’t keep arguing with the law, or I’d have surely been put in a pair of nice, shiny bracelets, not of the Tiffany & Co. variety. “Which lead me to here. I found another overnight place to park, this one the good ole sheriff said I could park at. It meant I’d be going up higher in altitude, but what do I freaking know? Usually, it’s the opposite. They’d rather you go down, but he said to come up this way. Of course, as you can see, it’s as dark as midnight out here, and while I drove slower than a turtle, I had to accelerate to round the corner.” A quick breath, and I’m back to explaining what happened. “I’m driving, right?”

“That’s usually what happens when you’re behind the wheel of a vehicle.” He nods, and a small grin tips his lips. Well, he’s certainly right about that. My rambling tends to not make a lick of sense, but whatever.

“Well, yeah. Anyway, I’m driving, and snow came tumbling down the side of the mountain. I tried to go around it, thinking it’s better than being taken out by a big ball of white fluff. You know, kind of like this dog. Yours, I take it?” I wait before I continue my long-winded conversation.

“Nala is mine, though she’s never reacted to a stranger like she has tonight. Thinkin’ maybe she prefers you over me. Can’t say that I blame her.” His words slide through me. My body trembles at the deep husky timbre, sending delicious shivers through me and making me want to leap into his arms. Who is this person I’ve become? Never in my life would I consider falling with just one look, yet here I am, doing exactly that. Maybe it’s his eyes that suck me in or the way his presence is commanding my attention, or it could even be that this man isn’t pissed at me for waking him up in the middle of the night for a pseudo rescue.

“Beautiful name for a beautiful girl.” I run my fingers through her fur.

“That she is.” Except he’s not looking at his dog. He’s looking at me. “Finish your story, sweetheart. The temperature is only going to keep dropping, and I’m going to need to tow your van up to my place until we can get you to town.” When the tip of his tongue drags across his lips, I have a hard time focusing on the task at hand.

“Oh well, I hit a patch of ice, overcorrected, and careened into what I’m realizing now must be your part of the mountain.” I bite my lower lip, wondering what this will set my insurance company back and how they’re going to end up dropping me like a bad habit.

“Shit happens, more than I’d like to out here. Not gonna leave you stranded. Will tell you the likelihood of anyone making it up here is slim to fuckin’ none. I got a warm place you can stay. I’ll drop you and Nala off, come back and get your van, and we’ll reassess in the mornin’. Sound good?” He offers his hand to shake, being entirely too nice for everything I’ve caused him.

“Are you sure? I mean, I’m a stranger, you’re a stranger. I can probably stay in my van.” It’ll be cold, but I wouldn’t be putting him out and placing myself in a situation I can’t control.

“Positive. Call whoever, take a picture of me and my place to send them. A warm house is better than freezing to death.”

“I don’t even know your name.” My voice comes out breathless.

“Clay. Clay Garcia.” The name matches the man, completely and totally.

“Minnie Sinclair, though I think I’ve told you that already with all of my yapping.” This time, I get a full smile. It sucks the air right out of my lungs.

“You might have said that. You also said Clementine. Pretty name, sweetheart.” He helps me stand up. Nala stands, too, staying closer to me than her owner.

“Thank you. Would you mind if I grabbed a few things and maybe use your phone? Mine kind of shit the pot with the accident.” A cracked screen and who knows what else. I do remember seeing it flying out of the cupholder and hitting the window before it landed on the floor. I picked it up when it came time to assess the damage, except it wouldn’t turn on, further fucking me in the process.

“Not a problem. You good to walk?”

“I think so. There’s no blood anywhere.” Thankfully. Running on adrenaline could make me crash later.

“I’m sure you’ll be sore as shit come tomorrow.”

“Without a doubt. I won’t be but a second.”

“I’ll be right here. Holler if anything changes,” Clay says. I roll his name around in my head. No way will I say it in front of him, not when there isn’t a reason to.

“Thanks.” I head inside, feeling his eyes on my backside the entire freaking time. Surely, this isn’t one-sided. I’m not that dense, right?