Destined (The Rangers of Ridge County #1)

Chapter One

CHAPTER ONE

MILLIE

I was fucking tired, and the list of reasons why lengthened with each passing day of this road trip.

The confidence I had at the start was long gone. At this point, I’d consider it nothing short of a miracle if I even made it to my final destination.

For the past week, I had survived on a diet of fast food and energy drinks. Peering down, I cringed at all the crumbled wrappers and empty cans littering the passenger’s floorboard.

I thought I’d hit rock bottom six months ago, but maybe this was it.

The ballad of another teary-eyed love song started, and my cringe morphed into a scowl as I spun the volume button to mute. If I never heard another rendition of happily ever after cast over the airwaves, it would be too soon.

I focused back on the road but not before wincing at my reflection in the rearview mirror. I had tried to tame my frizzy curls under a hat, but there was no hiding the dark circles under my eyes.

Last night I rented a motel room fit for a true crime special.

Mountain View Motor Lodge had definitely seen better days—many, many decades ago. The nicest amenity was, by far, the archaic VCR. Between the creepy front desk clerk and the lock on my door that didn’t quite latch, I hadn’t slept more than an hour or two.

Stopping there had been a last minute decision. And while I should have been more selective with my overnight accommodations, it was in my rearview.

At least, I hoped it was. My GPS had been glitching all morning which was worrisome since I’d be completely lost without it.

Sighing, I took in the sight before me. The view from my windshield was as uncharted as the person I hoped to become here—someone who wasn’t too jaded to dream.

Because at some point, I’d lost my way. And despite trying to embody the carefree person I had been before my life went to shit, it was all for show. I couldn’t seem to unearth that side of myself.

Maybe it was just buried deep beneath every unfortunate thing that happened to me.

Which was why I ventured so far from everything I’d ever known—in search of something that seemed so elusive.

The mountains slowly came into focus the farther west I drove and were unlike anything I had ever seen. The Great Smoky Mountains ran through Tennessee’s eastern end, but I quickly realized the Rockies were an entirely different experience.

If they could stand strong through every storm, why couldn’t I?

Though, my newfound resilience had already been put to the test when my car let out a loud whine ten miles back—as if it was protesting the homestretch of this road trip.

If I trusted my GPS, I was less than three miles from a brand new beginning, and I could not get there fast enough. Thankfully, my car hadn’t made any more strange?—

As if on cue, the same noise from earlier rang out, and this time it didn’t stop. In fact, it seemed louder.

The steering wheel began to vibrate, prompting me to pull over and turn my hazard lights on.

I rolled to a stop in the grass lining the shoulder of the highway, and panic set in.

I was hundreds—if not thousands—of miles from Tennessee and knew no one to call for assistance.

I snatched my phone from where it was attached to the dash, refreshing my map only to realize I had no cell service. While I should have been within five minutes of my final destination, I hadn’t seen any signs of civilization for miles.

I wanted to kick and scream .

Cathartically bang the steering wheel.

But I reminded myself sitting here pouting was not going to solve any of my problems. With determination, I stumbled out of my car and took a moment to stretch. While I was at it, I extended my phone above my head, praying to the powers that be for a bar of service.

Nothing.

Frustrated, I tossed my phone back into the driver’s seat and took in my surroundings. Wildlife echoed in the distance, but I convinced myself no predator would bother considering me its prey.

This was a less than ideal scenario, but I was still in awe of everything around me. The two-lane highway was lined with evergreens resembling a runway jetting straight for the largest mountain peak I had ever seen. I lost track of time staring at the beauty surrounding me but finally managed to return my attention to the deserted highway—glancing both ways, hoping to spot another traveler.

No such luck.

Woefully out of options, I came to the illogical conclusion I could crawl underneath my car and determine what was wrong.

If I ran over something maybe I could dislodge it.

As I laid down in the grass, I immediately started to regret my decision.

I was staring at the underbelly of my car questioning all of the life choices that had brought me to this moment when I heard the sound of a vehicle rolling to a stop behind mine.

I went to sit up and smacked my head on the unforgiving metal. As I rubbed at the knot already forming on my forehead, I heard a car door open and slam shut then watched as black, laced boots approached—the large soles stopping mere feet from my worn shoes.

“Come out from underneath the vehicle,” a deep, masculine voice commanded harshly.

Whoever it was didn’t have to tell me twice. I eagerly complied—doing so because I never should have gotten underneath here in the first place. Not because I’d been told to.

The sun was in my eyes, but the silhouette of a tall, broad man with bronzed skin and dirty blonde hair finally came into focus. A sheriff’s uniform hugged his frame, accentuating the mountain of muscles beneath and rendering me speechless

The Rockies had nothing on him.

“What happened?” he asked, and it took me far too long to form a coherent thought.

Did I have a concussion? Were there hazardous fumes leaking from underneath my car?

“My car was making a weird noise,” I finally managed while trying to tame my unruly curls—regretting my decision to toss my hat aside as the strands tangled in the wind.

“Did you call for roadside assistance?” he questioned, his gaze bouncing from my car to where I sat on the ground.

“No,” I answered, preparing to explain that it had been due to the lack of cell service when his expression turned glacial—freezing the words as they formed on my tongue.

“Why not?” he snapped, continuing to stare down from where he towered above me—never once extending a hand or offering to help me up.

I huffed then climbed to my feet. Asshole .

But before I could defend myself, he continued with his tirade.

“And what would possess you to crawl underneath your car?” he growled. “That’s just ignorant.”

My spine stiffened at his words.

Who the hell did he think he was? I had vowed to never let another man talk down to me ever again. Not after what I’d been through with my ex.

“I’m not fucking stupid,” I snarled, stepping closer to him with a finger outstretched. I was aware and capable, not to mention cognizant of my surroundings. Maybe climbing under my car hadn’t been the smartest idea, but that didn’t give him the right to chastise me.

“I didn’t say you were,” he scoffed. “Just your actions.”

My finger jammed as it rebounded off the vest he wore. I hadn’t meant to step so close, but my anger must have propelled me forward. His eyes narrowed as I dug my nail into the material, but he didn’t flinch. In fact, he seemed to lean closer—his presence overwhelming me once more .

“Well,” I gritted. “I don’t need any help from a pompous prick like you.”

Evidently, that was the wrong thing to say.

He turned and started back toward his Ridge County Sheriff SUV. I expected him to grab something and come back. Instead, he got in the driver’s seat, tossed his sunglasses, and turned the cruiser on.

This was my first official encounter with a local, and I already missed the southern hospitality Tennessee was known for.

Despite this being one of the most aggravating moments of my life, I did—in fact—still need his help.

I reluctantly started after him while reining in my desire to snap at him for his rude, aggressive behavior. But when I reached the open window, my gaze caught on the stubble lining his sharp jawline—the mixture of blonde, auburn, and dark brown scruff had me swallowing my tongue.

The taste of the words I wanted to speak was so bitter I almost choked. I glanced up, trying to regain my composure, but captivating green eyes ensnared me. And I wanted to get lost in them for a while.

No, screw that. A handsome face and striking eyes did not excuse unreasonable behavior.

Though, a ride into town might.

“I’m not sure how we got off on the wrong foot so fast, but my name is Millie Rushing. I’m relocating from Tennessee to Ranger Ridge and have been traveling for days. My car is probably more worn out than I am, and I don’t have any cell service to call for a tow. Is there any way you can help me with that, Officer?” I asked in a sickly sweet tone.

“Sheriff,” he answered bluntly, and I stared at him blankly—because what the hell could I say to this man who was determined to make this the most awkward encounter in human history?

“All right— Sheriff— do you think you can help me?” I gritted out through clenched teeth.

“Get in,” he huffed.

I hesitated, and it was enough for him to realize his mistake. He grabbed his sunglasses from where they lay in the passenger’s seat and blew out a breath as he peered out the windshield .

“You caught me coming back from a difficult crime scene. Not to mention, I am actively searching for suspicious travelers,” he said, cocking an eyebrow at me. “How about I give you a ride into town? I’ll radio for a tow, but I refuse to leave you stranded.”

It might not have been an apology, but I was going to accept the help nonetheless. Though, not before I dished out some of the grief he’d been slinging about.

“While I appreciate your offer, I don’t typically accept rides from strangers who haven’t seen it as pertinent or polite to share their names with me,” I said, raising an eyebrow of my own. “Even those in law enforcement.”

He gave me an exasperated look, certainly meant to convey his mounting irritation before reluctantly sighing, “Emmett Ranger.”