Open Your Heart (Kings Grove #4) - Delancey Stewart Page 0,75

for her. I couldn’t wait any longer. I imagined talking to her under these huge sturdy trees, beneath the darkening sky as music filtered down from the big open deck. I imagined kissing her there, with the background noise fading away until all I knew was her.

But I couldn’t find her anywhere.

Tuck was off to one side, filming the dance floor, and I tapped his shoulder. “Seen Harper?”

He lowered the camera and turned to give me a serious look. “Man, she left.”

I frowned, shook my head as his big hand squeezed my shoulder. “Left?”

“Her car was packed. She was getting on the road tonight. Thought she would have said goodbye to you. Sorry.” He was watching me, waiting for a reaction.

I still needed to make a speech. I couldn’t leave—I’d be letting my sister down. But if I didn’t go after Harper, I might never see her again. “How long ago?”

“Just a few minutes, actually,” he said.

“Can you stall?” I asked. “I have to get back to make my speech.”

Tuck shook his head. “I’m just behind the scenes here, man.”

“Please. I’ll be back.”

He grinned. “For Harper, yeah. I’ll see what I can do.”

“Thank you Tuck.” I practically flew off the deck and down to the dusty parking lot, jumping into my truck and pulling onto the road before I’d let myself have a second thought about it.

I maneuvered the truck through the narrow aging streets of the village, seeing things differently, noticing colors I hadn’t before, feeling each jolt of the truck’s tires in the potholes more violently than before. It was like I was finally awake, finally present. And God, I hoped Harper hadn’t left yet, but I’d drive all the way to Austin if I had to. Only I couldn’t do that tonight. I hoped she hadn’t left.

As I pulled up the driveway, relief washed through me. Her car was still there, packed to the roof. A crate stood open in the back seat, and I smiled, glad she’d at least planned to take a dog.

But as I began to climb the steps to the big house, a puppy whined at me from the deck. I went up to find Number One sitting on his haunches, looking lost.

“What are you doing out here?” I asked him. I peered in the front windows as I picked up the little dog, but the house was quiet and still. I figured Harper was upstairs, and went to put the little dog in the pen out back.

I was even more confused to find another puppy inside the pen, all alone. “What the hell is going on, guys?” A pit of worry was forming in my gut. Something wasn’t right.

As I stood still, thinking, a sound ripped through the still evening air that chased away all the warmth I’d been feeling. It was a dog, and the sound was a barking snarl that spoke of fear, of anger…Matilda. My feet were moving after the sound before I could even begin to guess at why she was out, why she was across the ravine. And then I heard another sound that sent my heart into my mouth and jolted my entire body into a flat-out sprint. Harper. Screaming in fear as the ungodly shriek of the mountain lion joined the chorus.

Oh God. Oh God, no.

The brush and debris on the ground fought me every step of the way, but I ripped and tore through the bushes, pounding down the hill and up the other side until I was close enough to see.

Harper stood off to one side, a puppy in her arms and her face red and tearstained as she screamed. Her eyes were huge and round, and trained on the fight going on just feet away from her. Matilda’s jaws were fastened to the side of the huge mountain lion’s neck, and her body swayed and clung at one side of the cat. She must’ve found a way to jump on its back, and now she was holding on for dear life as the cat swatted and yowled, shaking and trying to fling her off.

I picked up a stick and scrabbled around for a rock, hurling it as hard as I could at the mountain lion. “Go!” I yelled. “Go on, get out of here!” I turned to the terrified Harper. “You have to help,” I told her. “Throw things, scream at it.” I worked to keep the panic from my voice.

Despite her fear, Harper did exactly as I said. She held the