Page 1 of Don't Burn Bridges
Chapter 1
What else could go wrong? Shylo Kellerman wasn't sure, but bad luck had been nipping at her heels her entire life.
She pulled her red Ford Ranger XLT SuperCab onto the shoulder of County Road #26 and activated the emergency flashers. The driver’s side wheels were still on the roadway, but a ditch prevented her from moving over any further. Cursing, she glared at the steam pouring out from under the hood—the beat-up twelve-year-old piece of shit was overheating again. She’d have to wait until the engine cooled a bit before she could open the radiator cap and refill it with the two jugs of water stored on the floor of the rear seat.
Shoving the gearshift into Park, she turned off the ignition, yanked the hood-release lever, and then climbed out of the truck. She pulled two rags from beneath the driver's seat and used them to protect her hand as she opened the hood and propped it up. A billowing cloud of scalding vapor surged skyward, forcing her to step back. She couldn’t wait until she had the money to buy a new truck. Maybe she’d get a fancy sports car too.
At least it was a pleasant day near the end of May. White clouds drifted across the sky, but nothing suggested rain. The temperature hovered around eighty degrees, and a gentle breeze made her lightweight navy capris, loose gray V-neck T-shirt, and Keds comfortable. The truck's AC was one of the few things that still worked reliably.
She probably jinxed herself with that thought.
With a few minutes to kill, she grabbed her phone from the front seat and frowned at the screen. No cell service at all. She tried taking a few steps in each direction, but it didn’t help.
Well, wasn’t that the cherry on top of the shit show that was her life?
After a moment, she let out a quiet sigh. Who would she have called, anyway? No one. No close friends. Just a handful of acquaintances she’d kept at arm’s length. A half-brother—Troy—she avoided like a disease.
And the small, miserable town in West Virginia she’d come from? That place was in her rearview mirror for a reason.
When she left Brimley Flats last week, she’d sworn she was never going back.
Her cell phone only listed a few contacts—her mother, who passed away a few months ago, a private investigator Shylo had hired, her boss from the job she quit last week, and two coworkers who didn’t like her. The feelings were mutual. She only had their numbers because they occasionally texted her to cover their shifts if they didn’t feel like working. Shylo only ever agreed because she needed the extra money to save up and leave town faster.
To put the past behind her, she quickly deleted everyone but the P.I. She might need his services again.
Glancing around, she took in the surroundings. There wasn't much to see beyond the trees lining both sides of the road. Two miles back, farmland had given way to woodlands. According to her research on Google Maps, it would open again in another three-and-a-half miles or so, over the town line into Hazard Falls, Kansas—her destination.
She’d never been there before, and hopefully, she wouldn’t have to stay long, maybe a week or two. Once she finished conducting her business there, she’d be free to go anywhere in the country, maybe even the world. But, first things first—getting her due.
The rumble of an engine approaching had her pivoting toward the direction she'd come from. A blue late-model Dodge pickup appeared from around a bend in the road, slowed, and then pulled to a stop behind her truck. A flicker of fear ran through her as she realized she could be attacked out there in the middle of nowhere and no one would ever know.
A lone male driver was the only occupant, but between his cowboy hat and the sun’s glare skating across the windshield, she couldn’t get a good look at his face. He climbed out of the truck and shut the door before striding toward her. His long, lean legs ate up the distance in no time as her gaze started at his shit-kicker boots and traveled upward. He was a few inches taller than her, but the hat added to his height. His body was a piece of art in snug jeans and a red T-shirt that showed off his muscular torso and broad shoulders. Wisps of light brown hair peeked out from under his hat at the sides.
He stopped a few feet away and didn’t crowd her, which made her a little less wary.
“Howdy, ma’am. Having engine trouble?”
Oh, Lord. If his incredible physique wasn't enticing enough, his low, husky drawl was enough to melt steel. She could listen to that voice read the dictionary and never tire of it. He looked about thirty, maybe a little older. The brim of his hat still shaded his eyes, but she could make out a sharp jaw, kissable lips, and the hint of a five-o'clock shadow, and she wanted to rub her cheek against its coarseness. Maybe even run her hands over his entire body.
“Ma’am? Or do you prefer Ms.?”
“Huh?” Shylo shook the dirty thoughts this man conjured up from her mind. “I’m sorry. Got distracted there for a moment.”
When he smirked, she nearly groaned out loud. It was obvious what, or rather who, had distracted her, and she still hadn’t seen his eyes yet. It didn’t matter, though—she didn’t have time to deal with a cowboy, even if he was sexy as sin and seemed nice enough. Maybe he’d be up for a little fun after she got what had brought her to Hazard Falls. Then, like Brimley Flats, she would leave the Podunk town in the dust.
She scrambled to recall his first question. “Um... yes, the um... the radiator overheated.”
“I can call a tow truck for you. The cell service out here is spotty, but I have a radio in the truck that I can use to contact my boss.”
“Thanks, but it just needs water, which I have. I have to let it cool down first, though.”
“Well, that’s good, but it won’t last long on water. You’ll need to get the proper coolant for it. There’s a small auto supply store attached to a gas station in Hazard, a few miles that way.” He pointed in the direction they’d both been heading and then glanced over his shoulder. “But, in the meantime, you’re kinda in a bad spot here. I have some flares I can set up at the bend back there, so no one comes flying around before we get you back on the road. I’ll be right back.”
While she appreciated the flares, she didn’t need him to stay with her, but before she could say that, he turned around and headed toward his truck. And damn, the man was as fine going as he was coming. A gorgeous ass and long legs in tight Wranglers over cowboy boots had always been her kryptonite.
So much for keeping her attention on the reason she'd come to Kansas.
Seth Parker couldn’t help but stare at the stranded woman as he dropped his truck’s tailgate and opened the toolbox. He’d never seen the raven-haired beauty before—she was unforgettable, even without knowing her name. She stood about three inches shorter than his five-foot-ten frame and had generous curves in all the right places. But it had been her chestnut-colored eyes that drew him in. They'd held caution, curiosity... and something that looked a lot like attraction. He wasn’t one to brag—okay, maybe sometimes—but the good looks he'd been blessed with rarely had trouble catching a woman's eye. Hell, men had even hit on him a few times over the years, even though he didn’t swing that way. It never bothered him since he suspected at least one of the ranch hands was gay, and his two bosses, Shane and Tucker Wilson, were married to each other and their wife, Paige.
