The Cowboy's Destiny

Chapter Two

Destiny braced herself when Mark Mitchell, the former mayor of Lizard Gulch, approached her. The sleazy lawyer found satisfaction in others’ misery and she’d love to slap that condescending grin off his face.

“So...I wonder why Daryl didn’t show up at the chapel?”

“I guess he decided he didn’t love me enough to marry me.” Too bad she wasn’t heartbroken over being jilted.

“You know,” Mitchell said, “if there were opportunities to make a decent living in this town, he might have taken a chance on you.”

Money had never been an issue between her and Daryl. He did his thing and she did hers. When they could coordinate their schedules they hung out together.

“There’s time to win Daryl back. All you have to do is convince your constituents to take the deal Wyndell Resorts is offering.” Mitchell’s grin widened. “Once you have all that money in your pretty little hands, your fiancé will come running back.”

Mitchell had arrived in town a year ago, claiming he was searching for a place to retire. She hadn’t bought the lie—a man in his late thirties was too young to be thinking about retirement, but he’d sweet-talked the residents into believing he was a nice guy before he’d convinced them that the town needed a mayor. Of course he’d insisted he was the man for the job. The five-member town council swore him in as mayor and thirty days later Mitchell presented a proposal from a land developer who wanted to buy the town and replace it with a resort and golf course.

The issue divided the town—half wanted to sell, the other half insisted the developer shove his proposal where the sun didn’t shine. Destiny sided with the shovers.

“What if I don’t want Daryl back?” She sipped her water.

“Think of all the things you could buy with the money Jack Custer is offering.”

Even though the town was torn over the buyout offer, the residents had all agreed that Mitchell had misrepresented himself. The council recalled him as mayor then selected Destiny to replace him. The very next day she’d driven to Phoenix and had met with Wyndell Properties. Custer had treated her like a petulant child, sending her back to Lizard Gulch with a new offer to present to everyone.

When Destiny explained Custer’s proposal—a $75,000 per person payout—those in favor of saving the town snubbed their noses at the money and those in favor of selling wanted to sign on the dotted line right then and there.

The town was at an impasse with Destiny caught in the middle. As mayor she represented every resident, but she hated to see the buildings bulldozed. The residents had welcomed her with open arms and she considered all of them her family. That family would dissolve if Custer got his way.

Now that she was pregnant, it was more important than ever that she change the minds of those siding with Wyndell Resorts. She refused to raise her child the way she’d been brought up—traveling from one place to the next. Living in public restrooms and truck stops. Eating in soup kitchens. Destiny had never attended school. Waitresses at various truck stops had taught her to read and write, and after she’d run away and the Carters had become her foster parents, Sylvia Carter had homeschooled her. Eventually, she’d earned her GED—an accomplishment she was very proud of. Yet a GED did little to help her fight off bullies like Mark Mitchell and Jack Custer.

“You know,” Mitchell said. “Maybe Daryl got a better offer from another girl?”

Destiny wouldn’t put it past the lawyer to have paid her fiancé to ditch her at the church just because he was miffed she’d thrown a monkey wrench into his plans. She was well aware that Mitchell would earn a handsome bonus if he closed the deal between the land developer and the residents of Lizard Gulch.

“Don’t be such a donkey butt, Mitchell.” Melba slid her arm through Destiny’s. “The poor girl’s heart has just been broken.”

“My heart will be fine.” Destiny squeezed the older woman’s veiny hand. If she had any remorse about Daryl’s abandonment, it was for their baby. Her mother had never talked about Destiny’s father and always brushed aside her questions about him, suggesting she hadn’t known which of her customers had fathered her child. Whether or not Daryl chose to be involved in their baby’s life was up to him, but she’d make sure her son or daughter knew who his or her father was.

“I think Violet’s looking for you, Mark,” Melba said. After Mitchell walked off, she asked, “Where did that handsome cowboy go?”

Well, shoot. Destiny had forgotten that Buck Owens Cash was waiting at the garage. “I better leave. I need to fire up the wrecker and tow his pickup.”

“You two stop in later,” Melba said. “We’ll be here all night.”

Destiny slipped out the back door, walked past the cemetery and came up behind Carter Towing and Repair. She climbed the fire escape to the apartment above the garage and entered the one-bedroom dwelling. The place needed major renovations. She’d like to paint the walls, replace the linoleum flooring and install a shower in the bathroom, but with a baby on the way, her money would be better spent on a crib, car seat, diapers, clothes and a million other things.

In the bedroom she stripped to her skivvies and changed into her work jeans and her favorite Arizona Cardinals T-shirt. She secured her long hair in an elastic band then shoved her ponytail through the opening at the back of her Diamondbacks baseball cap. Lastly, she tugged on a pair of thick socks and stuffed her feet into her work boots. Simon Carter had taught Destiny the ins and outs of the towing business, including the importance of wearing steel-toed boots. Safety was her number one priority—even more so now that a child would be depending on her in seven months.

Truck keys in hand, she paused in front of the mirror to check her reflection—she’d never really cared what she looked like before. Why now? Maybe because Buck was unlike any guy she’d dated in the past.

For a girl who was supposed to get married today you’ve moved on pretty quick.

Destiny had no experience with boy-next-door types—they normally passed her over. But when Buck turned those warm brown eyes on her, she could almost believe that he saw something in her worth his time.

You’re pregnant.

She cursed the voice in her head. She didn’t need her subconscious to remind her that she was carrying another man’s baby and that any guy in his right mind would steer clear of her. So be it, but she was entitled to her dreams, and it had been longer than she remembered since she’d fantasized about any man including Daryl.

She left the apartment and walked to the front of the building where Buck sat on the bench outside the office door. If only there was more than a broken hose wrong with his truck. She couldn’t think of a better-looking distraction than the cowboy hanging around town for a few days.

As soon as he noticed her, he flashed his sexy white grin. Then his gaze roamed over her outfit and the smile vanished. “I thought you were celebrating your mayoral win?”

She shoved her fingers into the front pockets of her jeans. “They’re celebrating without me.”

“Do you know where—” he glanced at the side of the garage “—Mr. Carter is?”

“There is no Mr. Carter.”

He removed his Stetson and ran his fingers through his shaggy hair. “I thought you said—”

“Simon Carter is deceased. I named the business after him.”

“You named the business?”

Destiny spread her arms wide. “I run the garage.”

His eyebrows arched.

“What?”

“You’re the tow truck driver?”

“I’m also a decent mechanic.”

Buck stared at Destiny, his mind trying to reconcile the redheaded biker bride with the tomboy standing before him in ragged jeans, a faded T-shirt and men’s boots. In all the years he’d worked in Troy Winters’s garage, not once had he run into a woman who knew car engines. Go figure the one time his truck breaks down a woman mechanic comes to his rescue.

“You don’t believe me, do you?” she said.

“I’ve never met a lady mechanic before.”

Her baby blues narrowed, as if she expected him to sling insults at her.

“How did you become interested in fixing cars?” he asked.

Tiny wrinkles formed across her tanned forehead. “Would you rather stand here and chat or do you want me to tow your truck?”

“Where do you plan to tow it?”

“Wherever you want. Kingman or...here.”

He heard the hitch in her voice when she said the word here. Kingman was a safe bet—but maybe it was time he rolled the dice.

“If you’ve got replacement hoses in stock, it would be quicker to fix the truck here,” he said.

Destiny paced a few feet away, leaving a trail of scented perfume in her wake. “It’ll be a hundred dollars for the tow and a hundred for parts and labor.”

The sassy little mechanic wanted to rip him off. “That’s highway robbery.” Troy charged his customers twenty bucks for a new hose and fifty for labor, but he doubted Destiny got many customers this far out in the desert. He couldn’t blame her for making the most of the opportunities that came her way.

“Have you ever had the hoses in your truck changed before?” She crossed her arms over her chest—she was cute when she got all feisty.

“No.” He wanted to see how much she actually knew about engines. “This is the first time I’ve had a leaky hose.” His gut tightened at the lie, but he kept a straight face. “Where’s your wrecker?”

“This way.”

He followed her behind the building then stopped dead in his tracks when he noticed the vehicle. Holy cow—the thing was a monster and in pristine condition. He watched Destiny climbed into the cab, admiring her athleticism as she hopped onto the running plate, took hold of the bar behind the driver’s seat and hoisted herself into the cab.

He got in on the passenger side and shut the door. “What year is this?”

“It’s a 2007 freightliner with a 12,000 pound integrated wheel lift, two 15,000 pound planetary winches and a Mercedes 250 HP engine.” She quirked an eyebrow. “Any more questions?”

“This machine won’t have a problem towing my Ford.”

Like a pro, Destiny fired up the wrecker, shifted gear and drove onto Gulch Road.

“What’s the deal with only three people buried in the cemetery?” he asked when the truck passed the burial ground.

“Melba says—”

“Who’s Melba again?”

“She owns the Flamingo.” Destiny waved at a man standing outside his mobile home next to the motel. “Back before Melba was born and her parents managed the property, there was a woman in town named Maisy Richards and she was engaged to a Victor Candor. Before the wedding took place, a stranger named Antonio Torres showed up in town and fell hard for Maisy.”

“A love triangle,” Buck said.

“Victor caught Antonio stealing a kiss from Maisy and threatened to kill him.”

“Did Antonio go to the police?”

“No. Antonio waited for Victor to show up at his motel room and when he did, Antonio drew his gun and they shot each other dead.”

“What happened to Maisy?”

“She hung herself from the tree that stands in the cemetery. Witnesses say she wanders through town after midnight calling for her lovers.”

Buck laughed out loud. “That sounds made up.”

Destiny shrugged.

“Have you heard Maisy call her beaus?”

“No, but there’s rumors that people who stayed at the motel after the murders complained about hearing gunshots in the middle of the night.”

“Interesting.”

Destiny slowed the wrecker as she navigated a bend in the road.

Buck was amazed a woman her size handled the truck with such confidence. He’d never met a female quite like Destiny—she was a puzzle he wouldn’t mind solving.

“What’s the matter?”

“Nothing,” he said. “Just thinking.”

“Has anyone ever told you that you look mad when you think?”

He relaxed his facial muscles. “I don’t get how you can go from being left at the altar to towing my truck without missing a beat. Most girls would be bawling their eyes out and inconsolable.”

“I’m not most girls.”

That was for damn sure.

“I’ve had my share of disappointments and it began early in my life.” Her fingers clenched the steering wheel. “Guess I’ve developed a thick skin.” She slowed the wrecker when she passed the Ford then checked her mirrors and made a U-turn before merging onto the shoulder of the road in front of his truck. “This will only take a minute.”

No way was he waiting in the cab. He had to see the pint-sized mechanic in action. “Can I help?”

“Sure.”

“Tell me what to do.”

“Stay out of my way.” She lowered the boom arm in the back of the wrecker then attached the wire cable from the tow winch to the front end of his pickup. In less than ten minutes she had his vehicle secured on the flatbed and ready to haul.

“I’m impressed.” And he meant it. “Where did you learn to drive a wrecker?”

“Simon Carter. He showed up one night to tow an abandoned car beneath an overpass in Phoenix and found me sleeping inside.”

“How old were you?”

“Thirteen.”

Holy smokes. “Why were you hiding in an abandoned car?”

Destiny started the engine, and after she pulled onto the road, she said, “I don’t like to talk about my childhood.”

“That makes two of us.” His comment drew a sharp look from her, but she didn’t prod him for details.

“Back to my original question, how—”

She glared at him.

“You don’t have to tell me about your childhood. I just want to know how you ended up in a broken-down car beneath an overpass.”

“I hitched a ride into Phoenix with a trucker and he dropped me off there. When Simon found me, he offered to call the police, but I refused, so he took me home with him and fed me.”

“How old was Simon?”

“Sixty. Sylvia, his wife, is a sweet lady. She insisted I sleep in their guest bedroom. The next morning I expected social services to pick me up, but Simon and Sylvia said I could live with them until I figured out what my next move was.”

“Generous people.”

“Sylvia offered to homeschool me, and when I had free time I went out on calls with Simon in the wrecker.” She shrugged. “After a few months they asked if they could adopt me and I said yes.”

“How long did you live with the couple?” Buck asked.

“I was nineteen when Simon died of a heart attack.”

Even though Destiny showed little emotion, he got the feeling Simon’s death had affected her deeply. “I’m sorry.”

“Sylvia sold the house and moved to Florida to live with her sister. She gave me Simon’s truck, his tools and a little money. I advertised on Craigslist and made enough cash towing to pay for an apartment and keep gas in the truck.”

“How did you end up in Lizard Gulch?”

“I’d been searching for a place to set down roots,” she said.

“And when you ran across Lizard Gulch, the town shouted Home Sweet Home?”

“It’s not such a bad place.”

Buck had a hunch Destiny was looking for another Simon to replace the one she’d lost, and there were plenty of geezers in the desert hideaway to fill the role. “How do you get enough tows in this area to stay in business?”

“I answer calls for car accidents between here, Kingman and Flagstaff. I average about three tows per month.”

“How many car repair jobs come along?”

“I’m lucky if I get one every sixty days and those usually come from referrals.”

Destiny’s towing business could bring in a lot more money in Tucson, Yuma or Phoenix. It didn’t make sense for her to live in Lizard Gulch.

“Where are you from?” she asked.

“Ever heard of Stagecoach? It’s southeast of Yuma.”

“Sounds like another little town.”

“It is. My six siblings and I grew up on my grandfather’s pecan farm.”

“You have six siblings?”

“Five brothers and one sister.”

“Wow. You kept your mother busy.”

“Not really. Our grandparents raised us.” He guessed he and Destiny had that in common—depending on old people.

“So you chose rodeo instead of farming?”

“My brother Conway manages the pecan orchard. He and his wife and their twin sons moved into our grandparents’ house. My eldest brother, Johnny, recently married and had a daughter.”

“You’re kidding, right?”

“Kidding about what?” he asked.

“Your brother...Johnny Cash?”

Buck grinned. “My mother named my brothers and me after country-and-western legends.”

Destiny grinned. “Tell me the names.”

“I’m glad we amuse you.”

“C’mon...”

“In order of birth,” he said. “Johnny Cash, Willie Nelson Cash, me, Merle Haggard Cash, Conway Twitty Cash and Porter Wagoner Cash.”

“Wow. You guys must have taken a beating on the playground with those names.”

“I’ve had plenty experience defending my moniker.” He smiled grimly. “Johnny and his wife live on his father-in-law’s ranch, where he’s the foreman. Earlier this summer Will married the woman he got pregnant in high school and met his fourteen-year-old son for the first time.”

“She kept their baby a secret from your brother?” Destiny’s shock appeared genuine. “That’s not nice. Your brother had a right to know he was a father.”

Destiny’s statement made Buck feel all the more guilty that he hadn’t told Will right away about Ryan when he’d found out the truth.

“But I guess he forgave her and they worked things out if they got married,” Destiny said.

“They did. I didn’t go to the wedding.”

“Why not?”

“It’s complicated,” he said.

“You said you have a sister?”

“Dixie. She’s married and had a baby boy named Nathan. She’s a businesswoman like yourself. Runs a gift shop in Yuma and sells soap.”

“What kind of soap?”

“Fancy girl stuff. My grandmother’s relatives were soap makers in France, and Dixie uses the family recipes for her homemade suds.”

“Cool.”

Buck felt bad talking about his family when Destiny didn’t have one of her own. “Do you keep in touch with Sylvia?”

“We call each other once in a while and she sends me a keepsake of Simon’s every now and then. This past Christmas she gave me his military flag.”

“They never had any children of their own?” he asked.

“No. Are you real close to all your brothers?”

“I guess.” Then he’d gone and screwed things up with Will, and now they weren’t talking.

When they arrived in Lizard Gulch, Buck noticed the lights were on in the saloon. “The reception hasn’t died down.”

“Old people never sleep. They’ll party until they run out of liquor.”

She backed his Ford into the repair bay like a pro then hopped out and released the lift. While Buck waited inside the garage for her to park the wrecker behind the building, he examined the collection of auto parts stored on a utility shelf. She had three boxes of hoses and it took thirty minutes to swap out a hose. He’d be back on the road in an hour.

“There’s a chair in the office if you want to wait in there. The TV remote is on the counter.”

He’d rather watch Destiny change his hose. He went into the office and switched on the TV. After fifteen minutes he lost interest in the home improvement show and returned to the bay. Destiny lay on a creeper beneath his truck. “Almost finished?”

The clanking sounds stopped, and she rolled into the open then got to her feet. She avoided making eye contact with him. “You’ve got a bigger problem than a ruptured hose.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You must have driven over some debris, because the axel is broken.”

“What?”

Destiny wiped her hands on a rag. “I don’t have a spare axel. I’ll have to order one.”

“How long will that take?”

“A few days. Maybe a week.”

“I’m stuck here until my truck is fixed?”

She nodded.

“Where am I supposed to stay? The Flamingo isn’t even a motel.”

“Melba has one room she rents to guests.”

“How much does she charge?”

“Fifty dollars a night,” Destiny said.

This was becoming one hell of an expensive breakdown. “I guess I’m staying.”

“I’ll order the part now.” Destiny went into the office and shut the door.

Buck dropped onto the creeper and rolled himself beneath the truck. Sure enough. The damn axel hung crooked. He couldn’t remember hitting anything on the road. He examined the break.

Well...well...well... The axel wasn’t broken, it had been loosened.

Destiny had stranded Buck in Lizard Gulch on purpose.

Chapter Three

“What are you doing under there?” Destiny’s voice echoed through the garage.