Chapter 63

63

The other men were still teasing him about being on the leash, but Fletcher couldn’t help it. He was worried. “She always answers me.”

“Come on,” Quade said. He’d tried texting her, too. Quade was one of the numbers preprogrammed into her watch. If she was wearing that watch, she would have gotten Quade’s texts, too. “We’ll run over to the inn. Check on her. Maybe her car is acting up again. We’ll get her and get started. I want to see this thing fly before the sun sets.”

Which would be in just an hour or so, if that. Dylan needed to hurry or they’d have to wait.

“Sounds like a plan,” Kaece said, a crowbar in his hand. “We’ll finish unpacking this one. Barratt can just supervise for you.”

Quade was parked behind Fletcher, and the twins and Barratt were on the other sides. Unless he wanted to take the tractor to the inn, Quade was his only way.

“Let’s go find my woman.”

“Sounds like a plan. You’re good for her, you know.”

“I will always try to be just that. I love that woman, and I always will.”

“Cherish every day, Fletch. Every day.”

He knew about Quade’s fiancée, and he hurt for the pain the man had experienced. He couldn’t imagine losing Dylan now.

* * *

Fletcher knew something was wrong the instant they pulled into the front parking lot of the inn. There was a crowd gathering. Quade killed the engine and Fletcher climbed out as Quade did the same. He jogged over to a familiar group of beautiful women.

But the smallest one wasn’t there.

He touched Darcey’s shoulder. “Where’s?—”

“Fletcher!” Darcey held up one hand. “We were just about to call you.”

Ben was there. He wrapped his hand around Fletcher’s shoulder. “Fletch, I don’t want you to panic, but you need to listen to me now.”

Fletcher just knew. She needed him. Now. “Where is she? What happened? Where is she?”

He was almost yelling it now.

“We’ve just called the police,” his brother said. Ben had him by the arms. Holding him steady. “Someone grabbed her and shoved her into a stolen car a little over forty-five minutes ago. We’ve called the police, but they are down by the Sublette County border working a multiple car accident.”

“That’s a damned hour away.”

“Chandler went to grab my rifles out of my gun safe,” Ben said. “Martin and Linsey are calling in search parties. Arthur and Shane are already out looking for the car that took her. We’re all going out. We’re going to find her. We’re not waiting for the cops, bro. We’re not. We’re going to find her. Them.”

“Them?” Quade asked.

“Abby Vanderguard was taken by someone else,” Ben said. “We also found her brother’s truck broken down in the parking lot. We don’t know where he is. But we can’t tell from the security video—it might be Will Vanderguard who took Dylan. But someone else took Abby.”

Ben looked at Dylan’s sisters, who all just stood there, looking terrified as the light snow fell around them. “Go inside. Call every damned Tyler you can find. Tell them what is going on. There are enough of us, we can cover just about every corner of this county and the ones south and north of us, if we bring in the second cousins. They’ll help you.” He pointed to some women who had just pulled in. Fletcher’s sister and a handful of his cousins—Perci and Pan and Maggie. Their husbands were with them. Clint, Maggie’s husband and a former cop, walked with authority.

“We’ll find her,” Fletcher told her mother. “And when I do, I am never letting her out of my sight again. I promise, Geena. I’m going to get her back.”

He couldn’t lose her now.