Change of Hart (Wells Ranch, #3)(61)

Holding my palms to either side of my mouth, I scream, “Mom!”

Hearing nothing, I say, “Okay, it’s fine. There’s only two ways she could’ve gone. So we’ll each take a trail and…jog, so we can catch up to her, since she was walking pretty fast.”

Without another word, Whit takes off down the left trail, and I take the right. Running until my lungs burn and every breath brings me one second closer to collapse. When the trails converge again, Whit’s waiting with her hands on her knees, keeled over, catching her breath.

“Shit. We gotta keep going. How long is this stupid trail again?”

Whit snaps her neck to look up at me. “It goes for another ten-ish kilometers. But we’re closer to downtown now, so there’s a bunch of spots where she could’ve exited the trail just up ahead.”

My fingers comb through my sweaty hairline, and I tug at the roots, trying desperately to figure out a game plan that doesn’t involve Whit and me running all over town.

“Maybe we should call Dad?” Whit asks.

“No! He’s at work and he doesn’t need the added stress right now. It’s my morning to keep an eye on her.” Squeezing my eyes shut to filter out the vibration of a text message—likely from Denver—I say, “Okay, I think one of us should keep walking the trail, and the other start zigzagging the streets in town.”

Thankfully, Wells Canyon isn’t a big city, so it shouldn’t take long to jog every street. But there’s always the possibility she wandered off the trail into the woods, or a wild animal came along, or she started walking down the highway…the possibilities are virtually endless. Especially if she had a brain fog moment and forgot where she was entirely.

Whit pulls the hem of her shirt up, exposing her stomach and sports bra, to wipe her sweat-slicked face. “Okay, I’ll take the trail.”

“Okay. I’ll call you if—”

My phone rings aggressively in my pocket, and I pull it out to see if it’s somebody who might be calling about Mom.

Balling my free hand into a fist, I answer with a harsh tone. “Denver, I don’t have time to talk to you about my goddamn coffee order.”

“Really? Because it sounds like maybe you haven’t had a cup yet this morning.”

“Mom’s missing.”

There’s a rustling for a second, then he says, “Well, she’s eating a cinnamon roll with me right now…so it seems you’re the one who’s missing.”

“She’s what?” Turning to Whit, I let out a sigh of relief, wiping beaded sweat from my brow. “She’s at Anette’s Bakery having a cinnamon roll.”

Denver snorts. “Are you lost?”

“No. I’ll be there right away. Just tell her to stay put, okay?”

“I’ll stay here with her. Take your time, baby.”

The way he says baby smooths across me like a healing balm. I hate asking him to stay when I’ve spent the entire morning convincing myself to push him away, but my mom’s safety is more important than my discomfort.

“You don’t mind staying with her?”

“Of course I don’t mind. I figured something was up when I saw her here alone, and I couldn’t ignore that.”

“Well…thank you.” I gesture for Whit to keep walking with me down the trail. “We’ll be there soon.”

Hanging up, I turn to my sister. “I think Anette puts drugs in her cinnamon rolls. If you’re looking for anybody in town, that seems to be the place to check first.”

She laughs. “They are really good. At least she’s safe.”

“Thank God Denver knew to stay with her when he saw her alone.”

When we’re finally breathing at a normal rate and able to relax into our casual walk once again, Whit asks, “So, what are you going to do about him?”

“I don’t know. He’s just…he’s being very flirtatious, and sweet, and fun to hang out with, and he keeps offering to talk to me about the stuff I have going on. But I also don’t know if he’s doing all this with a dozen other girls.”

“That would be a pretty gutsy move. This town is small. You found out about his dating life when you lived five hours away. Plus, his best friend is dating your best friend.” She shakes her head. “I’ve always thought Denny’s a nice guy, but there’s no way he’s smart enough to pull off something like dating a dozen girls at once.”

“Okay…but what about when he realizes I’m not worth the effort? I kind of come with some baggage now that I didn’t have at sixteen.”

“What did dating in the city do to you?” She stops walking, spinning to stare at me with pure disgust. “You were the older sister who didn’t let me say a single negative thing about myself growing up. And now you’re telling me you have no idea how freaking cool you are? Any guy would be lucky to have you. If he doesn’t see that, he’s blind.”

I rock back on my heels, cringing at my own irrational thoughts. Oh God, she’s right. Sure, sometimes I’m on sale, but I know my worth.

“Anyway, half of your baggage came from him,” Whit says, gesturing angrily toward the imaginary Denver standing in front of us. “If he has something to say about it, I’ll give him a piece of my mind.”