Dixie Under Siege: A Warrior's Passion, #2

By Natasza Waters

The only thing stopping Navy SEAL Josh Hunter from igniting the embers between him and Dixie is the psychopath stalking her.

 

Dixie's fresh start in San Diego eclipses into a nightmare. Not only does she have to deal with a psychopath who's been on her tail for years, but the man who broke her heart strides into her shop hotter, broader, and braver than she remembers. Dixie has two choices: Run from her stalker or make a stand with the man she nearly married.

Josh drops by the Erotic Bean for a cup of java and finds Dixie Hammond behind the counter. Their reunion goes as expected. The unforgettable spitfire orders him out of her shop. Understandably, she's still angry at him. Emotions aside, she needs his protection. With Alpha Squad's help, Josh uncovers Dixie's stalker is far more dangerous than they expected.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Natasza Waters
• Release date: Dec 4, 2020
• ISBN: 9781777468903

Natasza Waters

Natasza Waters debuted her first romance novel in 2011 for readers who enjoy a cup of romance with a twist of steam. After majoring in English, Natasza's life altered course. After thirty-four years of service in the Coast Guard, a few crow's feet, and deeper laugh lines, she now spends her days crafting stories. Readers can look forward to romance, action, and suspense in her award-winning novels.

Book preview

Prologue

Josh Hunter stood at the window overlooking Glorietta Bay from his office at the Naval Amphibious Base in Coronado. Training vessels departed the dock as part of the SEALs’ Phase Three work-up prior to deployment. Like his legendary predecessor, Thane Ghost Austen, Josh intended to deploy in August with his men.

At least that had been the plan until an hour ago.

A stalker had the woman he’d loved and nearly married, under siege.

Earlier in the year, Josh had been floored when he’d walked into the new coffeehouse called Erotic Bean for a cup of java, to find Dixie Hammond owned the place. Their reunion went as expected. She’d told him to get the hell out. Although angry with him, he couldn’t ignore that his pulse rose to a running pace when he set eyes on Dix.

He’d kept his distance from his ex, but returned to the shop many times. Since Josh didn’t especially love coffee, he questioned why he kept going back.

When he finally convinced her to share, Josh learned since graduating college, Dix had moved from state to state, trying to shake an unwanted admirer. San Diego was a new start for her until she received another note. The predator hunting Dixie had found her again.

Today, Josh had infiltrated her life whether she wanted his help or not. Begrudgingly, she’d allowed him to read some of the notes.

Think you could run away?

I’m watching you. Even when you sleep.

I love watching you take your clothes off.

The last note Dixie revealed made his blood boil.

I’m going to bind your hands and ankles and fuck you hard.

Her file cabinet held folders bloated with notes. Lt. Elijah Bach, Josh’s best friend, and Rayne Levy were in Dixie’s office when she’d admitted how long she’d been living under this guy’s reign of terror.

I’ll deal with it like I always have, Dixie had said.

A stab of guilt had gutted Josh. All those years ago, he hadn’t left Dixie because he didn’t love her. He left because he was a hot-headed fool.

And how did you deal with it? he’d asked.

She dropped her gaze. Moved. Many times.

Josh had gathered both her hands in his. A familiar but forgotten warmth ricocheted through his blood. Running from this guy feeds his fire. That’s how he controls you.

She’d shrugged. Running from what? He’s never shown himself. I don’t know who he is.

Lt. Bach had said, You do know him. Maybe not intimately, but you’ve crossed paths. Enough for him to lock you in his sights. Over the years, he’s been forming a relationship with you. A cat and mouse chase that gave him a false sense of superiority. Your reaction to run is understandable, but this won’t end until you stop.

I’m not scared of him, she’d proclaimed.

Josh couldn’t help but smile. I know you’re not. You’re pissed because you can’t face off with him. You feel like you’re the puppet and he has control of the strings. Something you’ve always hated.

Rayne and Lt. Bach didn’t know the details of his and Dix’s relationship, only that they had history.

Dixie had quickly given Eli and Rayne a summarized version. Our families expected us to marry. I was eighteen-years-old and wanted to go to college. But this big oaf and our traditional families wanted me barefoot and pregnant. She flicked her thumb at Josh. He signed up with the Navy and scattered in the wind.

Dix’s flushed cheeks had proved she was still angry at him but her assumptions were way off base.

I never said I wanted you barefoot and in the kitchen. Like usual, you didn’t give me a chance. You lost your temper and cancelled the wedding. What the hell was I supposed to do? Hang around, waiting for you to change your mind, which you never do once it’s made up. When your knickers are in a knot, you’re like a shrew on steroids.

Dixie had vaulted to her feet. You call me a shrew! She pointed a stiff finger at him. You’re a pigheaded, short-tempered ass!

Before Bach and Rayne ran for cover, Elijah suggested the team guys help identify her stalker.

Josh had mulled over the lieutenant’s idea. Her predator was likely someone she knew.

He’d asked, Did you have...men you...did you have... The words had caught in his throat because the thought of Dixie in another man’s arms unexpectedly bothered the hell out of him.

Did I have lovers?

He had squashed the jealousy in his gut and continued. Exactly. Did you have a boyfriend? Someone who...who...

Who I slept with?

Of course a woman as beautiful as Dix had lovers, but accepting the idea twisted like a knife. He’d nodded for her to go on.

No, Josh. I didn’t bring anyone home with me, if that’s what you’re asking.

He had no right to judge her, but his heart didn’t have the same sentiment.

I usually went to their place, she added.

Was she doing this on purpose to piss him off? If so, it worked. He had to stop thinking about what they’d once had together and concentrate on the fact he had the skills and training to catch this guy tormenting her.

Did you notice a change in the notes when you dated? Did the messages become more aggressive?

Dixie had tapped the desk with her index finger, then flipped through the notes, burrowing to the bottom of the pile and pulled one out. She opened it to check the content and extended the paper to him. I received this yesterday.

Josh’s resolve to find this prick cemented itself as he’d read the note. He’d fixed his stare on Dixie, then turned to Eli. I came in here yesterday. Thought I’d mend a few bridges and asked Dix to join me at church service. This means he’s watching her.

What does the note say? Rayne asked.

Dixie answered, because he hadn’t wanted to recite the message. It says, ‘I’ll kill you, before letting him put his cock inside you.’

Josh had planned to stay at Dixie’s place, but she put up a fight when he’d voiced the idea. Rayne and Eli quickly departed the office when the argument became personal. He hadn’t anticipated his temper to soar knowing Dix had been with other men.

Josh had heard the door click shut but didn’t veer his attention from the little firebrand glaring back at him. You’re the one who kicked me to the curb.

Finally, she broke the staring contest and plucked the folder with the notes from her desk. If you think you can catch the guy who’s stalking me then I’m not going to refuse your help, because I’m all out of ideas.

Give me those, he’d said, extending his hand.

Dixie had slapped the folder onto his palm. Even if I told you to mind your own business, I’m guessing you won’t.

Josh had almost laughed. Same old Dixie. You got that right, Miss Hammond.

Dixie’s teenage years long past, she exuded confidence. It had been a complete surprise to find her here in San Diego. Regardless of their past, she deserved peace of mind.

Any regrets? he’d asked out of total curiosity.

Plenty, but since you’re still a bachelor, I’m sure you don’t.

Joining her in the hallway, he’d waited till she’d locked the door to her office. He had a boatload of regrets, but she’d nailed his pride to the cross once before. That was enough.

She’d uttered a ‘pfft’ of disdain when he didn’t answer.

If I were you, Dix, I wouldn’t get too comfortable in that self-righteous throne you’re sitting on.

She’d thrust her hands on her hips. Oh, yeah, why is that, SEAL?

Her cocky expression deflated when he’d grinned. I clearly remember every inch of your mind-blowing, naked body and what drives you wild. With one step, he had her trapped, his palms against the wall on either side of her slender shoulders. We might have been young, but I haven’t forgotten how easily you made me come. Or the games we played. Before you have time to blink, your stalker will be behind bars. Then we have unfinished business.

You always talk as if you have the world figured out, she’d stuttered, her fiery tone replaced with uncertainty.

I know one thing’s for sure. With her shoulder blades pinned to the wall, he’d watched her gaze zigzag across his features. "I’m the only man who can tie you into erotic knots. The only guy that gives you a little pain with your pleasure. That was always our secret, wasn’t it?"

They’d been alone in the hallway but that didn’t mean his voice couldn’t carry into the shop, so he’d placed his lips next to her delicate ear. Not hearing a flurry of arguments, Miss Hammond.

She hadn’t moved when he’d grazed his cheek against the soft skin of her clenched jaw.

If I slid my hand under your skirt, I’d put money down that you’d let me. That you’re already wet. I could make you come right here, right now, because I know you remember every second we shared. I might not have the world figured out, but you can count on two things: I have you cornered and I’m going to find the sonofabitch who’s tormenting you.

Josh had gently pressed his finger under Dixie’s chin and closed the gap that had opened between her lips. And if you’re wondering who’s going to run away first? Fair warning. It won’t be me.

Dixie Under Siege

A Warrior’s Passion Series Book Two

Chapter One

Standing in front of her parents’ grandfather clock, Dixie’s father shouted, Do you have any brains in your head?

The pendulum swung back and forth with an even tempo, unlike her father, who was ready to vault into a speech on Hell and damnation.

She flicked a glance toward Josh, who sat beside her with one muscled arm laying across the back of the sofa, his expression relaxed, if not slightly amused with his lips curling upward. Dixie, on the other hand, was mortified her father had caught them in the barn. Not just messing around, but right after a mind-blowing orgasm which he may have heard.

Her father glared at them the way he’d stare down Satan if he ever came face to face with the angel of evil deeds.

Her mother, Amelia Hammond, hung up the phone in the kitchen. They’re coming over, she announced, briskly walking into the sparsely decorated living room.

Crucifixes adorned each wall, accentuated with three paintings of Christ to remind anyone who entered their home that the Hammonds were a God-fearing family.

Josh shook his head slowly, unaffected by her father’s obvious displeasure.

Young man, you defiled my daughter. I’d think twice about the position you’re in right now.

Her mother sat on the edge of the green Barcalounger with threadbare armrests, and wrung her hands. Alex—

No, her father spouted before Mom had a chance to speak. He pointed a crooked finger at Dixie. Not only have you sinned, but you’ve stained this family’s reputation.

It wasn’t like Josh was some guy passing through town. They’d known each other since eighth grade and had just graduated from high school, both with a perfect GPA. They weren’t hell-raisers. Unlike many of their fellow students, they didn’t take drugs or drink to distraction.

How have I stained our reputation? Dixie asked. The only people who know are in this room.

As if she’d sucker-punched him, her father growled. I’m the pastor of the Baptist church. If anyone should remain a virgin, it should be my daughter.

Josh had a short fuse when it came to things he thought ridiculous. Unless you issue a bulletin at church announcing the details, I don’t see the problem, Mr. Hammond.

Dixie’s gaze swept to her mother. About to argue that their relationship was not akin to the Apocalypse, the hinge on the back door squeaked open.

Hello? Josh’s mother called.

Dixie’s mom didn’t get up to greet their guests. In here, Doris.

Josh’s folks, Doris and Henry Hunter, joined the hanging committee in the living room.

Is everything all right? Henry asked. Doris said something had happened to one of the kids.

Our children have sinned in the eyes of the Lord, her father said loud enough for everyone in the county to hear.

Henry Hunter’s brows rose and he darted a look toward his wife. They, too, were Baptists and attended church every week, but they weren’t hardliners like her parents.

I’ll put on some coffee. Dixie’s mother vaulted to her feet.

This isn’t a social visit, Amelia, Dad said before she could escape. Everyone sit down.

Henry removed his cowboy hat and ushered Doris to the early twentieth century settee that Dixie’s mom had inherited from her parents.

Obviously, her father assumed since he was the pastor, everyone would shut up to listen while he preached from his invisible pulpit.

Dixie. He grabbed the Bible on the walnut credenza behind him and held it up. Dixie, you have not only shamed yourself, you’ve also broken a vow to God.

Pastor Hammond, Josh interrupted what looked like the start of a long tirade. I respect you a lot. Always have. But a sermon on the sins of sex before marriage doesn’t change the facts. I’m not interested in listening to you rant or point a finger.

Josh! Mrs. Hunter warned.

Were you at least safe? Dixie’s mother asked.

Doris and Henry blinked with surprise, but Dixie swore that Mr. Hunter seemed a little amused by it all.

Josh stood up. At six-three, he towered over her father. When her boyfriend chuckled, Dad’s face reddened. Respectfully, folks. What Dix and I share privately is none of your damn business.

Dixie gazed up at Josh, thankful for him making a stand. She understood that her parents would always be her parents and accepting their children as adults couldn’t be easy. Her boyfriend had hit the mark with few words.

Pastor Hammond. Henry Hunter drew her dad’s angry glare. Your daughter and my son are in love. You raised a sweet, intelligent young woman. He covered his wife’s hand with his weathered fingers. Doris and I both think she’s a great gal. Son...I know you two are gonna be happy together.

Josh’s mom added, I agree. You should have waited, but maybe this calls for a summer wedding.

What? Wait a minute. Dixie jumped to her feet.

Why not, Dix? Josh raised a brow and smiled at her. Not like I hadn’t already thought about asking you.

Her pulse raced. Maybe someday, but...what about college? I’ve been accepted to Penn State. They have the second best marketing program in the nation.

You should have thought about that before lifting your skirt, her father growled, his gaze burning mad. This is the only appropriate course. You and Josh will marry this summer. He turned his back on everyone and marched down the hallway toward his office.

Dixie’s mom’s brow scrunched with deep concern, her dark eyes emotionless when she approached. "Nothing will change the fact that you’ve committed this sin. You’ll do the right thing and marry Josh. You’ve disgraced this family by your actions. I think you had better ask for the Lord’s forgiveness, because you will never receive it from your father or me." And then she abandoned ship as well, heading upstairs, probably to pray in her bedroom.

Josh’s muscular arm slid around her shoulders, but didn’t quell her thumping pulse.

Hey, Dix. We’re gonna be okay.

Honey. Doris shifted to stand in front of her and Josh. Henry followed and rested a hand on his wife’s shoulder. Your parents are honest, hardworking folks. Your mother will be fine, given some time. Once you’re married, all will be forgiven. Don’t fret over this.

Nobody had asked if she wanted to marry Josh. Not even Josh. Marriage was not supposed to be a punitive sentence.

Josh kissed her cheek. I’m gonna head home with the folks.

Yeah. Sure.

An hour later, Dixie sat in the dark living room and listened to the grandfather clock as it struck nine p.m. The door to her father’s office opened and closed.

As he walked through the living room, she said, I don’t want to be married this young, Dad. I have plans. College.

He kept walking and gripped the newel post to head upstairs. You used to be such a sweet, innocent child. Now you’re no better than a harlot standing on a street corner. There will be a reckoning. God will make sure of that. He took each stair until he reached the second floor and never looked back.

****

Dixie, run to the chicken barn and get some fresh eggs, Amelia Hammond called out while standing over the stove with a dark green apron tied around her waist.

Sure, Mom.

With a clack of the screen door, all six of her brothers clambered into the kitchen. Their empty bellies wired with an internal alarm clock that rang near mealtime. Ranging in age from twenty-seven to nineteen, they swept their hands across foreheads covered with sweat from working under the warm, summer sun.

Coffee on, Mom? Shane, the oldest of Dixie’s brothers, asked.

Sit down, boys. Breakfast is almost ready. Where’s your father?

Kickin’ the dust off, Dixie said, seeing her dad on the porch as she slipped her bare feet into her cowboy boots by the back door.

Saturday mornings started early with a whirlwind of activity around the Hammond ranch. Her mom worked from sunup to sundown. Devout and selfless, she didn’t have a choice with a brood their size. Aside from Dixie and her brothers, the youngest of the clan was Sasha. At sixteen and the baby of the family, her sister had few chores around the house. She came and went with friends who all owned horses and rode any chance they got.

Good morning, Dad. Dix held open the screen for her father to pass before she headed out for the eggs.

Morning.

Since that fateful night, Dixie’s father responded to her with short, blunt answers. Her father’s pious outlook reflected in his devotion to leading the Baptist flock. His paramount purpose in their southern Utah town. He juggled their three hundred acre spread with drafting Sunday sermons and keeping the faithful on track. But as a preacher, he wasn’t very forgiving when it came to his own family. Especially her.

He still fumed four weeks after the fateful night when Dixie’s future had been decided. Her mother barely looked at her.

Dixie’s fate had been sealed.

In order to avoid eternal damnation, she had to marry Josh.

She and Josh had dated through senior year, but they’d been hanging out since middle school. Her parents were traditionalists. Firm believers that sex before marriage was a mortal sin. Not to mention if word got out that the preacher’s daughter opened her legs to the Hunters’ son, she’d be painted with a scarlet letter. Primarily the girl’s fault. Least, according to her father.

Josh wasn’t at all concerned about their shotgun wedding, and she didn’t even have a bun in the oven.

The Hammond clan didn’t reflect The Waltons by any stretch. There weren’t fuzzy moments and daily hugs. There’d never been a time when her mother sat on Dixie’s bed and gave encouraging words of wisdom. The impending marriage wasn’t a bonding moment between mother and daughter.

The rapid tick, tick, tick of needle piercing fabric from Amelia’s sewing machine was a familiar sound in the laundry room. She patched the boys’ shirts and jeans. Sewed her own dresses and Sasha’s school play costumes. But her mother wanted no part of Dixie’s special day.

Doris, Josh’s mom, had done all the running around and making arrangements for the reception, which would be held at the Hunters’ ranch. Dixie’s father had asked a pastor from the neighboring town to perform the ceremony. She wouldn’t be surprised if her dad feigned ill and didn’t come. In fact, she’d put money on it.

Josh’s mom had picked her up and they’d gone shopping for a simple gown. Dixie’s mom had made an excuse that she was too busy that day.

At the bridal boutique, she’d stared at herself in the mirror. While her prospective mother-in-law had gushed how lovely she looked in the satin wedding dress, Dixie saw her dreams culled like a Thanksgiving turkey.

After Josh’s mom dropped her off at home, Dix had raced upstairs and quickly hung the dress in her closet, but it felt more like hiding the evidence. Amelia Hammond had never asked to see the gown.

Before leaving the racket of the kitchen, she gazed at her mom fussing over the ham frying on the stovetop. Her mother wasn’t the type of woman who spent money on manicures or visits to a salon. Every morning, she twisted her brunette hair into a bun at the nape of her neck. Years of canning and digging in the garden left her slender hands popping with blue veins. She wondered whether her mother ever had dreams to become something other than a homemaker.

But she’d never asked, because they’d never talked.

Dix headed down the two wooden steps from the wraparound porch and across dry dirt with a hint of orange, compliments of her home state.

Even though testosterone ranked higher than estrogen in her family, she never remembered any heart-to-hearts with her mother. Passing the corral, three of the Quarter Horses sauntered over and hung their chins over the white fence. Unfortunately, she didn’t have any apples hiding in her pockets, but the animals watched with perked ears.

As she neared the barn, the chickens clucked. Opening the weathered door, she stepped inside and closed it behind her. They owned over two hundred egg layers. The population of St. George sat around eighty grand. Folks from the city loved to pick up farm-fresh eggs, but the money supporting the family came from cattle and vegetables.

Dixie snagged a woven basket from the counter next to the entrance where they stacked empty cartons for new customers. Folks who bought from them weekly reused their empty cardboard cartons, doing their part to save the environment.

Shifting the bird’s feathered butts, she collected the brown eggs for breakfast and placed them in the basket.

Lost in thoughts of the upcoming wedding, an egg slipped from her fingers, landing with a dull smack on the concrete floor. The rich, brown shell cracked open and the deep orange yolk oozed out. She blinked at the mess.

She loved Josh. Handsome, with thick brown hair and dark blue eyes, he was the guy who turned girls’ heads. With broad shoulders and thick biceps from working on his family’s ranch, he’d turned Dixie’s head, too. But she wanted more than to grow a garden and collect eggs.

Dixie’s dreams would never become a reality if she married him. In the top drawer of her bedroom desk lay two scholarships and the acceptance letter from Penn State. She’d studied hard at school, pulling in top grades. Worked after school and during summers to save money. She didn’t own a cell phone or a car like her girlfriends. She wanted every dime to go toward college.

The university letters were nothing more than fire starter now.

A dark pall covered their home, as if waiting for a sorrowful event. Wasn’t a girl’s wedding supposed to be a celebration? A moment of bonding with her mother. Tears of joy and sadness from a father who’d give her away. No one had mentioned a word in regard to the wedding.

Dix had always felt like she wore an invisibility cloak in the Hammond household. A worker bee with no identity. Now she had one—the black sheep of the family.

In one week, she’d shift from the preacher’s daughter to Josh Hunter’s wife. Her gaze dropped to the cracked egg on the cement floor. Who was Dixie Hammond?

****

Dix walked the mile of dirt road to Josh’s ranch that evening. Instead of knocking on the front door of the big, old white house, she paced in the barn, knowing he’d be there at seven o’clock to take care of the horses.

Dix? he said, startling her. Hey, babe. What’s going on?

She met him in the middle of the breezeway but when he leaned in to kiss her, she stepped back. Doesn’t any of this bother you?

He swept the cowboy hat from his head and sat down on a nearby hay bale.

Nerves popping, she needed to move and started to pace. Josh wasn’t only her boyfriend, he was her best friend.

Getting married? he asked, looking calm, cool, and collected as always.

She stopped and toed a few pieces of straw. We’re eighteen.

He shrugged. So what? We graduated school. You’re not pregnant, and we love each other. It’s all good, Dix.

Don’t you want to do something with your life?

I will. Dad’s agreed to give up a section of land. Gonna start building a house for us.

Build a house? Out of everyone, Josh should understand. You know I want to go to college in September.

Ranching is a decent life. He raised his gaze to meet hers. I had dreams too, Dix. Maybe this is happening sooner than I expected, but we’ll be fine.

If you have dreams, then why didn’t you say anything when our parents decided our future?

Because my future always had you in it. We’ve got my family to give us a jump start. We’ll make it work.

Why wasn’t he pissed? "I don’t want to make it work, Josh. You’re not listening."

He tilted his head. Sounds like you’re trying to tell me you don’t want to marry me.

She shook her head. Not now. At least, not when I haven’t had a chance to go out there,—she pointed toward the falling sun at the entrance to the barn—and try to be something.

Be what? Josh crossed his arms and furrowed his brow. You don’t have anything to prove.

It’s not about proof. It’s about independence. She flapped her arms in exasperation. "This is our future. Don’t you want to have a say in what happens? What we do or when we do it?"

Josh strode across the breezeway and picked up the pitchfork. So college is in your future, but I’m not. Is that the point you’re trying to make?

"I’m saying it’s our decision, not our parents’. Do you think what we did is a sin?"

He ran a hand through his brown hair and eyed her. That’s what we were brought up to believe, but no, I don’t.

To me, it feels like marriage is a punishment. You love ranching, but isn’t there something else you want?

Josh gnawed on his cheek while gripping the handle of the pitchfork. Yeah, but you mean more to me.

He meant a lot to her as well. Then why don’t you do it?

I just told you why. I’m staying here because of you. Stop freaking out over this. Next week we’ll be married and you can move out of your parents’ house.

Dix wanted to thump her head against the barn wall.

You’re right. I don’t need to freak out because this,—she thrust her arm toward him and then at herself—is not happening. I am not going to throw my life away.

The pitchfork clacked against the cement floor. Josh shoved his hands deep into his front pockets. If you think making a life with me is throwing yours out the window, then I agree. Nobody can force you to do a damn thing. If you want to call off the wedding, then call it off. Here and now.

Fine. It’s off.

His head jerked in agreement. Great. Have a nice life, Dix.

Her mouth gaped open. Have a nice life? You’re dumping me because I don’t want to marry you this instant?

What the fuck do you want? You think I’m gonna hang around waiting for four years while you get a degree? Get real.

And just like that, she learned the truth about love. It had terms and conditions and didn’t reflect a poet’s words at all. She and Josh had reached the finish line with no happy ending.

Dix gazed at Josh’s unreadable expression and her heart beat with fear, but she’d be damned if she’d show it. There were no warm hugs or sympathetic words of encouragement waiting for her at home. The only person she’d ever trusted was Josh. A lump formed in her throat.

Instead of crying, she smiled. Take care of yourself.

****

Josh watched the sway of Dixie’s beautiful ass as she strode from the barn without another word. He leaned over and swept the pitchfork off the ground once she’d left. She’d always had a stubborn streak and a mind of her own.

For a split second, his heart screamed at him to chase her. Reason with her. But he knew better. Fiercely independent and unafraid, she wasn’t the typical girl. When they were twelve and he’d tried to chase her with a frog from the creek, she’d chased him with a snake. When his buddies weren’t around, Dixie didn’t mind having a sword fight with a tree branch.

After leaning the pitchfork against the nearest stall, he walked to the double doors of the barn and into the evening light. Dix had already reached the road, headed for home.

They’d never had a fight before. At least, not one this bad. Maybe he should jump in his pickup and go get her. She could yell at him some more until she’d vented all her frustrations.

"Josh, you finished