his back pocket. Greg Bozeman’s name stared up at him. Why was Greg calling him?
“Hey, what’s up?”
“You with Mandy?”
“No. I dropped her off at her place on the way home. Why?”
“I tried calling to talk to her about her car but got no answer. Thought you two might be together.”
Ben rolled his eyes. “Nope. Try her again.”
“Can’t. Hot date tonight. Can you call and tell her it’s going to be a few days before I can get her car fixed?”
“There’s this thing now called voice mail.”
“It was full. Couldn’t leave a message.”
“Fine, I’ll tell her.”
“Thanks. Gotta run.” As the call ended, Ben couldn’t help but wonder who in the world Greg was going out with. He had to have run through every eligible female in the Hill Country by now. The dude was either very careful or very lucky that he didn’t have miniature versions of himself running over all of central Texas.
Ben shoved the phone back in his pocket and picked up a thick, circular piece of leather that would hide the nail heads. But as he made his way through the familiar successive steps—carving a groove around the top of the leather, punching holes around the edge for the stitching, and sewing the layers together—he couldn’t help wondering why Mandy hadn’t answered her phone. Maybe she’d simply gone to sleep early. Or turned off her phone because she was just done with her rotten day. Possibly drunk herself into a stupor. Oh, hell, what if she’d wandered outside and fallen off that little porch and broken something? Or toddled down to the creek and ended up drowning in, like, a teaspoon of water.
What could it hurt to give her a call to pass on Greg’s message? No, he wasn’t calling just to make sure his suddenly overactive imagination wasn’t correct and that she hadn’t managed to meet her undignified end.
The phone rang three times before she finally picked up, sounding out of breath.
“You okay?”
She hesitated for a moment. “Ben?”
“Yeah. What have you been doing, pushing your little house to a new spot?”
“No, I was out trying to chase off what I swear was a mountain lion.”
“What?”
“I saw it out the window. At first I thought maybe I’d just had too much wine, but then the thing turned and looked at me. I was feeling a little bit too much as if he was sizing me up for his dinner.”
“So you went outside? I hope you had a gun.”
“No, but I made an unholy racket with a couple of cooking pots. Good thing I don’t have close neighbors.”
“You did have too much wine if you went outside without protection. Good Lord, woman. I’ll be right there.”
“It’s gone now.”
“Yeah, I’m coming anyway. Do not go back outside.”
“Huh. You always this bossy?”
“When the occasion calls for it.”
His parents, Angel and his niece, Julia, looked up when he burst into the house less than a minute later. When he unlocked the gun cabinet and pulled out his rifle, his dad stood, probably thinking there was some danger to their cattle herd. If Mandy really had seen a mountain lion, there very well could be.
“Going to Mandy’s. She says she saw a mountain lion outside her house.”
“Oh, be careful,” his mom said as she scooted to the edge of the couch.
“I’ll go with you,” his dad said.
“No, it’s okay. The thing’s probably gone by now. Just want to make sure. You might want to check that the animals are secure here, though.”
His dad gave him a nod.
“I’ll give you a hand,” Adam said to their dad as he walked into the room.
“If you don’t think Mandy will be safe there, you bring her back here.” This time, there was no teasing in his mom’s voice, telling him that her chief concern was Mandy’s safety, not his dating life.
On the drive to Mandy’s, he watched for any signs of the big cat along the sides of the road but saw only a deer bound into the trees and a dead armadillo belly-up on the narrow gravel shoulder.
When he turned into Mandy’s driveway, the lights from her little house were like a beacon in the surrounding darkness. He slowed and scanned the entire area illuminated by his headlights. As he pulled up next to her house, Mandy stepped out onto the small porch. The moment he got a full view of her, he forgot about the mountain lion. She’d changed into skimpy little pajama shorts and a matching orange top with thin lacy straps.
This day was trying its damnedest to kill him.
The reason for his visit came crashing back into his mind, and he hurried out of the truck and motioned her inside.
“I’ll check around, see if your visitor’s gone.”
She ignored him and continued to stand on the porch as he pulled his rifle out of the gun rack in the back window.
“I’d feel a lot better if you went inside,” he said.
“Well, I’d feel a lot better if you didn’t go poking around in the dark looking for the big kitty cat.”
He did a mental eye roll as he scanned the area, hoping she’d just imagined seeing a mountain lion. She’d been drinking wine, after all. But she didn’t seem overly intoxicated, so he took the possibility of the predator seriously. It wasn’t until he reached the slope that led down to the creek that he got confirmation she hadn’t been imagining the cat.
He glanced back at where she stood, the porch light putting her in silhouette. Using his flashlight, he looked beyond the reach of the truck’s headlights and the illumination coming from her little house. He didn’t see any eyes shining back at him, but that didn’t mean the animal wasn’t lurking nearby. He’d report the sighting to Parks and Wildlife in the morning and spread the word to other area residents. Ranchers would need to keep an eye on their animals, and anyone with small children and pets needed to be alert, as well.
He took a few steps backward, ready to raise the rifle if necessary, before turning and walking toward Mandy.
“See anything?”
Ben did his best to keep his eyes fixed on her face, but it was damned hard not to let his gaze drift downward. Those little pajama shorts made her legs look a mile long even though she was only of average height. For a really ill-advised moment he imagined running his hands up all that bare skin.
Remembering she’d asked him a question, he said, “Tracks down by the creek. Mom suggested you come stay at our place tonight.”
Mandy’s eyes widened a little and she glanced toward the creek. “That’s not necessary. He didn’t bother me before, just scared the daylights out of me.”
“No guarantee he won’t come back.”
“I’ll just stay inside.”
Ben put one foot up on the single porch step and extended the gun toward her. “Then I want you to keep this here tonight just in case.”
She was shaking her head before he even finished speaking. “I won’t use that. I doubt the mountain lion is going to open the door and stroll inside. Besides, I’d be more likely to shoot off my own foot.”
With a sigh of frustration, he turned and sank down onto the edge of the porch.
“What are you doing?”
“If you won’t do