The Cowboy's Runaway Bride EBOOK

Chapter One- Tuesday

If it weren’t for bad luck, Ellie Green wouldn’t have any luck at all.
She stared down at the back passenger tire of her truck. The tire was so flat the rubber spilled out onto the pavement like it had been poured there. Her truck was actually listing to one side. She wondered what she’d done to tick off the universe. Whatever it was must have been something big because the bad luck hits just kept coming. Today alone, she had burned the front tail of her favorite light-yellow flannel shirt on the stove, but thankfully only the corner was singed away. Though she’d half expected it to go up in flames and used the first thing she'd had on hand to extinguish it. Which was cranberry juice.
To make matters worse, she was getting a zit on her chin, and it felt like a big one. Possibly the size of her nose. These events were the sum of her day, and it wasn’t even noon. She’d experienced this sort of nonsense for a while now and was getting tired of it.
Ellie rested her forearm along the side of the truck’s bed and her forehead on her arm. She stared at the flat through the gap between her arm and her body. She needed a plan, but her tired brain struggled to come up with one. Behind her, the sound of scuffling cowboy boots drew near. She hadn’t expected black Tony Lama shit-kickers to come into her view next to the tire. She’d figured whoever it was would keep on walking to the diner.
“You trying to will it to inflate?” said the man belonging to the boots.
Ellie straightened on a sigh, then turned to the person asking the question. She didn’t recognize him, but he looked like every other cowboy around here, restless and looking for the next thrill. Because she didn't know him, she figured she really didn’t have to be nice. Right now, polite required too much energy.
So she said, “I tried blowing it like a balloon, but nothing.” Seriously, did he really think she was just standing here willing her tire to inflate? Okay, she had done that the instant she’d seen the tire, but wishes only came true in the movies, and she’d quickly set those hopes aside.
“I reckon you’ll have to go to plan B,” he said without so much as a smile or hint of teasing. He casually leaned against the truck.
Ellie studied him, trying to figure out if he was someone whose acquaintance had slipped her mind. He was acting awfully familiar with her, like they'd met before. He dressed like a cowboy from around these parts. Not that his clothes meant anything, but Wolf Creek, Wyoming was a small town. Everyone knew each other. There were no six degrees of separation here. But this guy… Though there was something about him that felt familiar, she didn’t know his face. At. All.
Everything about his look was dark, including his scowl. She scanned him from the top down. His hair was midnight black and cut in what she knew the military called a high and tight. Rich, dark brown eyes inspected her, too and she struggled to look away. He was dressed in a black T-shirt worn under a black and dark green flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His muscular arms looked chiseled from granite. His dark indigo-washed jeans fit snugly over powerful thighs. He was lethal to girls who liked that sort of look. She wasn't so frivolous.
“How exactly would you define plan B?” She wasn’t worried for her safety. She was outside the diner and the good folks of Wolf Creek were inside eating the meals she’d cooked. Her shift, as the morning short order cook, ended not more than ten minutes ago. And those good folks liked her cooking almost as much as they liked their gossip. They wouldn’t let something happen to her. Who would make them breakfast tomorrow? Who else knew the elder Mr. Landry liked parsley on his eggs? Ellie did.
“Plan B would be to put the spare on,” he said matter of fact.
She expected him to follow up his statement with a "duh."
“Gee, what a good idea. Wish I had thought of that.” She skirted around him to the other side of the truck and pointed to the passenger tire on the driver’s side. “Only ‘my spare’ is right here. See, I had a flat yesterday and did exactly that. Put the spare on.” She wagged her fingers at him. “I even used my own two little hands. Today, the situation is different, wouldn’t you say?” She was being intentionally snarky and planted her hands on her hips. This poor, dark stranger was going to feel the force of her irritation, and there was nothing she could do to stop it. Her anger, frustration, and fear had been mounting for days.
Ellie almost snorted with a laugh at her jaded thoughts. Seemed like the universe didn’t like him too much either if it sent him into her path.
When Dark Stranger strode around to her, his left leg dragged some and made the shuffling sound she’d heard earlier. He had a limp, but it was so subtle she almost missed it. Had she not heard it, she probably would have never seen it.
He stopped short when he saw her spare, of the donut variety, already on her truck. He considered her, his expression puzzled.
She said, “Its on my list today to swing by the gas station and pick up my new tire.”
He pointed to the donut. “You got this flat yesterday?” He waited for her answer, a nod, then moved to the front tire where he squatted down and began to run his hands over the tread. He did this to each of her tires, including what he could of the flat one.
She followed him as he worked his way around her truck. “Yeah, I checked all the tires for nails or screws or something.” She shook her head. “Nothing's there.”
“You drive through any broken glass or construction sites?” He was still squatting by the tires and shifted his weight. A slight grimace etched his face as he did so. It was gone as quickly as it had shown up.
“Nope. Not that I noticed, and considering I had a flat yesterday, I was extra attentive today when I drove to work. Nothing.” She drove the same route every single day. From Grams's house, where she currently lived, to the diner for work, to Williamses’ ranch to feed their livestock while they were out of town, and then back home to do chores and man the farm stand. On Tuesdays and Wednesdays, she added in the delivery of her goat milk soaps and lotions to stores on main street, stopped by the feed store, occasionally the vet’s office after going to the Williamses', all before heading home. Regardless of the day, she did a complete circle comprising of home, town, and the Williamses’ ranch.
Dark Stranger ran his hands over the tire again before reaching up to the bed and pulling himself to a stand. “Let’s get this tire off, and I’ll take you down to Carl’s garage.” He side shuffled to the back of the truck, then reached across the bed to fidget with a latch of the diamond tread toolbox. The top popped open. She was surprised the lid opened so easily considering how dented the top was.
He ran his hand over the dents. Most were the same size and shape as if done by the same object. “This top looks like it’s taken a beating.”
Ellie shrugged. “It’s been that way forever.” Of course, she wasn’t going to share with Dark Stranger that her frustrations and a tire iron had added all the dents to the toolbox last week. Not that she cared what he thought. The information wasn’t any of his business.
“Forever you say?” He arched his brows when he glanced at her. “You should write the company and tell them how impressive their aluminum is, not a rust spot in the dents whatsoever.”
Not knowing what else to say, she shrugged again.
His lips twitched as he considered her. His gaze flicked down to her chin where she could feel the zit growing larger every nanosecond.
“I can do that,” she said and stepped toward him, holding her hand out for the iron.
“I don’t mind helping.” He pulled out a tire jack and shoved it under the truck.
Ellie went to stand in front of the flat tire. “I appreciate it, but I’m just gonna call Carl at the garage and have him come and get me. I’ll take care of this.” She took the tire iron from his hand.
“I don’t mind helping,” he repeated. Probably because he thought she needed to be reminded.
She said with more ire than intended, “I don’t need help.”
Dark stranger stared at her, his brow slightly furrowed as if he wasn’t sure she meant what she said.
So she added. “You were going into the diner to eat, right?”
He nodded. “Yeah.”
“Then you better get going before all the moms with their toddlers arrive. They always take the best pastries.”
For what felt like minutes, but was likely seconds, they stood there and considered each other. Ellie had her back against her truck, wishing he'd move on already. She didn't have time for any more trouble or nonsense.
Dark stranger broke from the standoff first. “If you’re sure?” His expression showed his skepticism.
She rolled her eyes. “Positive.”
He shrugged as if to say “suit yourself” and shuffled off to the diner without so much as looking back, his left leg dragging ever so slightly.
Having a stranger offer their help wasn’t unappreciated. Ellie just preferred not to be indebted to anyone. Nothing good came from it anyway.

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