by Em Petrova
Folding her fingers together, she tried for calm when she really wanted to throw her head back and scream into the sky.
That might not be a bad idea. She got out of the car and gave it a try, but only a pathetic wail came out. She tried again, staring up at the beautiful dark blue nothingness, and let loose. The yell rose from the tips of her toes and sent the deer running.
Smug satisfaction swelled in her. She leaned against the car and drank in the scenery. Everything about this place stimulated her. Too bad she couldn’t be stimulated from a hotel window right now. Hell, she’d settle for a grungy motel.
Wait! GPS on my phone! She could find out her exact location and see how far walking would get her.
Wait. No cell service. She issued another bellow into the sky.
Then heard a noise. Straining, she made out an engine. Straightening away from her broken-down vehicle, she waited.
Each beat of her heart was a painful throb. What if this person wouldn’t help her? What if she took one look at the driver and hoped he’d speed past? God, this was turning into a bad screenplay. Lone woman, country road…
As the engine grew louder, she shifted her feet. When the red pickup came around the corner, her stomach sank but she stood her ground.
He rolled by, and she almost burst into tears. The old Charlotte would have gotten sassy, swearing at a person who refused to help someone in obvious distress. But after her trauma of the past months, she’d grown resigned. Her shoulders slumped.
The driver braked, and her heart did a two-step. She watched him back up and expertly whip his truck off the road. It wasn’t a new truck. In fact, it had seen the years Charlotte’s car had, and she doubted the vehicle could get her much farther.
The door opened, and a work boot hit the ground. She followed it up to worn jeans and the longest leg she’d ever seen. The man that leg belonged to was a real cowboy.
Nerves zinging, she let her gaze skitter over trim hips holding up those jeans and a wide belt and buckle sporting what looked like a steer. Top it with a denim shirt rolled over muscular forearms and she was looking at a movie star.
Did the Texas temps rise in the evenings, or was it her? Her clothes suddenly felt damp and restrictive.
The sun was behind him, but he wore a hat, shadowing his eyes. Stomach flip-flopping, she waited for him to speak.
“Howdy. You got car trouble?” His long strides ate up the ground between them in seconds. Using his knuckles, he rapped the brim of his hat, giving her a perfect look at his tanned face and piercing eyes.
Square jaw, full lips, a straight nose and high cheekbones that could have earned him a modeling career. However, he was far from polished like a model. His nails were grungy and his pants had a grease stain. But his blue eyes glowed. Actually, they might be grayer now that she looked closer, but no, there were definitely green and amber flecks—
The corner of his mouth turned up, and she followed the crease around his eyes to the one bracketing his mouth. Her heart thumped double-time and awareness flooded her veins.
“Did you have an accident?” he asked, and she realized she’d never answered his first question.
“I—no. Well sort of.”
The other side of his mouth twitched up to match the left. She stared at his white teeth, fighting to find her voice. But she knew exactly where her nipples were, as the traitorous buds were pinched tight.
“Which is it?”
“I drove into a herd of deer. I didn’t hit any, but I came to a stop. When I tried to go again, the car wouldn’t move.”
He grunted and hitched his thumb in his jeans pocket. The frayed edges of his pocket told her he’d done this time and again. Realizing she was gawking, and at a bad spot on his body, she raised her gaze and met his.
That didn’t help a bit.
Mentally shaking herself, she tried to make herself less of an idiot. “I tried everything, but the car won’t move.”
“The engine runs?” So help her God, he was unbuttoning his shirt as he moved around the vehicle. She stared for a minute then realized he was stripping off his outer layer to reveal a faded black T-shirt. It strained across his chest and biceps. A tiny hole near the shoulder revealed a patch of tan skin, making her wonder what else was tanned.
Hell, she’d been in the sun too long. Heat stroke had set in. Or she needed that energy bar. Her blood sugar was low. Why couldn’t she stop looking at him?
“Lady, you’re not really giving me a lot of answers.” His tone was amused, and the crinkles around his eyes said the same.
“Sorry. Yes, the engine runs.”
“Good. Pop the hood.”
She did and took a second to bring her curls to order before she went out to join him. She’d obviously baked her brain in the Texas sun, because she was acting like a smitten schoolgirl. She wasn’t even in the market for a man—far from it. What was wrong with her?
He leaned over the engine and shifted a few things around, giving her a perfect view of his strong back rippling with muscle. His shoulders were broad, and she imagined him easily hooking a calf around them, carrying the animal out of a ravine without losing his breath.
She shivered, and it had nothing to do with the sun setting.
“Do you mind starting the engine for me?” He cocked an eye at her, and her nipples bunched into hard peaks under her tank top once more.
“Not at all.” I need something to do before I make a bigger fool of myself.
She ran around and started the engine then rejoined him, gazing at the moving parts that might as well belong to an alien ship. “Do you know what’s wrong?”
He scuffed his knuckles over his jaw, creating a rasping noise that lifted every hair on her body. “Not yet, but I’ve got an idea.”
“What’s that?” Damn, he smelled clean, like soap and water, even if he looked as if he’d put in a solid day of work.
“I’ve got an idea you won’t be getting anywhere in this car tonight.”
“Motherfuck.”
His blue eyes widened. He threw his head back and laughed. The sound ricocheted around her body. She tried to compose herself, but he kept on laughing, and seeing a cowboy laugh was an amazing sight.
His shoulders rolled and his eyes gleamed. His teeth flashed white. Damn, watching him was like a party for her body. Parts she didn’t know she had took notice.
Still chuckling, he removed the metal roof prop and lowered the hood. Once he’d shut it, he turned and wiped his hands on his jeans, leaving another grease smear.
They stared at each other for a minute. Apprehension flooded her system. This guy might seem as wholesome and good as the landscape, but he could easily overpower her and hurt her. After all, she’d been hurt by only a match.
But the cowboy’s good looks and boyish gleam in his eyes invited her trust. Besides, what choice did she have? Sleep in her vehicle and walk tomorrow or accept his help.
“So what’s wrong with the car?”
“I think it’s the transmission.”
Her jaw dropped. “That sounds sort of…big.”
“It is.”
“Is there a garage around here?”
He pushed a breath through his nose. “You don’t know where you are, do you?”
“Um…” If she admitted she was clueless, it made her more vulnerable. He could dump her in a ditch and leave her for dead. Or worse—rape her then leave her for dead.
It was pretty damn hard to trust anyone when the man who’d claimed to love her had tried to kill her.
Slowly, she shook her head.
“Well, where are you headed?”
Again, she shook her head.
“You don’t know? Or you can’t remember?”
“I’ll know it when I see it.”
He cocked a long, dark brow. “That so?”
She raised her jaw a notch. “Yes. What are my options? I don’t even have cell service.”
At that, he laughed again. The sound was becoming too fa
miliar, and her body reactions were taking over her thought processes. “It’s not likely you have cell service anywhere in this valley.”
“How far does the valley stretch?”
“Nine miles give or take a few footsteps.” He tapped the hood. “I don’t see any way around this.”
Around what? Her heart sank, and those tears she’d battled earlier were too close to the surface. “I was thinking I’d spend the night in the car.”
His jaw shifted, showing a bulge of tendon in the crease. He shook his head. “My momma raised me right, and you sleeping in your car don’t set well with me. Look, I live about ten minutes that way. I can take you to my house and you can use our phone.”
Our phone. He’s married, has a family.
She eyed his truck. Would a family man hurt her? She made her decision. “I’d appreciate it.”
Of course, once she had a phone in hand, who would she call? Her parents were in Phoenix, and they’d scoffed at her notion to go in search of a different kind of life. Calling for help would make her seem weak. More than ever, she needed to stand on her own after what Stephen had done to her.
She’d figure out who to call once she crossed that bridge.
“I can see you aren’t from around here. What are you traveling with? Do you have a suitcase?”
“Uh, yeah. Why would I need it?”
When his smile appeared, she wasn’t ready for it. Her breathing hitched. Quickly, she stamped on her attraction. While he wasn’t wearing a wedding band, he worked with his hands and might not wear it regularly.
“Sweetheart, we’re a good two hours from a town with lodging, and even then it’s going to be booked full for the big rodeo this week. I’ll take you home with me to use the phone. My brothers are out of town, and I’ll put you up in one of their rooms until you can make arrangements.”
Tears clung to the roots of her lashes, and she pressed a thumb and forefinger into her eyes, hoping he didn’t see her distress.
He sagged at the knees to peer into her face. “Look, it’s not so bad. My brothers are messy, but Momma will make sure you have clean sheets.”
For some reason, that made her laugh. Relief coursed through her that she was getting help she needed. No, her sudden happiness didn’t have anything to do with him living with his mother and brothers.
“Thank you. I don’t know how I’ll repay you.” In fact, she couldn’t pay for car repairs. She was on a shoestring.
“Call it Texas hospitality.” He didn’t let his gaze wander over her. She was so used to men ogling her back in Phoenix, his indifference to her appearance seemed odd. She didn’t know whether to feel happy that he wouldn’t touch her or annoyed that he didn’t find her as attractive as she found him.
When she reached into the car and got her purse, her skin prickled. Were his eyes on her? Was he looking at her ass?
She straightened and tossed a look over her shoulder, but found him examining the tire. “Everything okay there?”
“Yes, it’s solid.” He kicked it as if to prove his point.
She retrieved her suitcase from the back seat. Before she wrangled it out completely, he was there, nudging her aside. “Let me.”
He hefted all her belongings in the whole world as if her suitcase weighed as much as a feather pillow. He twitched his head toward the truck, indicating she should walk in front of him.
The inside of his truck was clean but shabby. He placed her suitcase in the bed and got behind the driver’s wheel, taking up so much room, she marveled that he could drive comfortably. And how much denim fabric did it take to clothe him?
Suddenly he turned to her, eyes shining from under the brim of his hat. His coloring was dark, and she wondered about his hair. It was completely obscured under his hat. “Make yerself comfortable...” He floundered. “I don’t even know your name. I’m Hank. Hank Dalton.”
Lord, what a dreamy name, and the way he drawled it sent dark pleasure creeping through her belly.
She stuck out her hand and he clasped it, his touch warm and dry. Hard-working hands. “Charlotte Masterson.”
His eyes twinkled. “Well, Charlotte,” he dragged her name out as if he was tasting a cold beer after a day of backbreaking labor, “welcome to Paradise Valley, population of seven.”
* * *
“Seven? Are you kidding me?”
Damn, she was pretty, especially now that the fear had left her eyes. Somewhere between the time he’d looked under her hood and carried her suitcase for her, she’d come to realize he wasn’t going to molest her.
“Nope. Seven.” He shot her a look. Visions of her lush, round ass danced in his mind, and it was getting harder for him to set the thoughts aside. It’d been a mighty long time since he’d had his hands on a woman—and never a woman like Charlotte. She was prettier than a sunny day after a week of storms. Maybe it was his female-deprived brain talking, but his body said she was sexy as hell. “My parents, Ted and Maggie, married forty-five years. I’m the oldest. Then there’s Cash, Beck, Witt, and Kade.”
She gaped at him. “There’s only one family in the area?”
“Well, if you go on up the road another ten minutes or so you’ll cross paths with the Guthries. You should be relieved one of them didn’t find you along the road.”
She shrank against the seat a little. He went on to distract her from worry she wore on her pretty face.
“Yeah, and the nearest town has one blinker light and a corner market where you can buy feed and gas as well as a few things you can’t grow yourself. You picked the wrong place to break down.”
“I guess so.” She sat primly, maybe a little stiffly. Her jeans were dark blue and as new as they came, contouring to her slender legs and ass like…
He shouldn’t dwell on that too much. He was helping a lady out and taking advantage of her wasn’t on the agenda.
But her toenails were pink.
He released a slow, quiet sigh and tried to keep her talking. That moment she’d come out with the F bomb had caught him off guard. Until that moment, he didn’t know he liked a dirty mouth on a woman. He hadn’t been around that many to know. Also, he hadn’t laughed like that since Cash had duct-taped the toilet seat shut and the most impatient among them, Witt, had needed to go.
“You can roll your window down if you’re hot. Sorry I don’t have air conditioning in this old jalopy.” Of course, he wouldn’t mind if the curly-haired temptress got hot enough to strip off an item of clothing or two.
He patted the dash, trying to soften the blow to his old truck. The old girl seen him through a number of years, but it seemed Charlotte hadn’t been so lucky. A transmission probably cost more than her whole car was worth.
“Thanks.” She took hold of the handle. “I’ve never actually ridden in a vehicle without electric windows.”
“Welcome to backwoods Texas.”
She smiled, light brown curls mussed by the wind. The cut was short, and the soft locks ended just below her jaw, highlighting her delicate bone structure. But she was curved in all the right places, and she had the vocabulary of a truck driver. He didn’t want to take his eyes off her.
“You really don’t know where you’re going?” he asked.
“No.”
“You running?”
She shifted her gaze away. “Just seeking something new.”
“Ah, a gypsy.”
Taken by surprise, she laughed. The sound was full and throaty—he wanted to listen to it all night. Lord have mercy, he was in trouble. A gorgeous damsel in distress in his truck, and with pink toenails?
“I wouldn’t say gypsy. Do you really think the trouble is my transmission?”
“Tell me, did you put the vehicle in park and it wouldn’t move again?”
“Yes.”
“Kade had that happen in one of the old farm trucks once.”
“Were you able to fix it?”
“Yeah. For a lot of money. But maybe I can get some parts from the junkyard and have you
on the road again soon.” Something about the way she worried her lower lip with her teeth told him money was tight.
“Will your parents mind an uninvited visitor?”
At that, he chuckled. “Nah. People like us don’t socialize often, so when we do, watch out. Momma will ply you with enough home cooking that you’ll be in a food coma, and Pa will tell you about everything from the price of cattle to how deep the well is.”
“Sounds different.”
“Different from…? Where are you from?”
“I’d rather not say.”
“Fair enough.” He pointed out a break in the fence where a post had fallen. “Looks like I’ll be fixing that tomorrow.”
“This is your fence?” She sat up straighter.
“Yep. Cattle and a big spread.” Part of it would be his as soon as he found a wife. From the corner of his eye, he studied Charlotte. It seemed mighty odd that his brothers had left yesterday for the city and a “wife hunt,” and Hank had chosen to stay home. Now a gorgeous little woman broken down practically in front of their house.
Nah, he was just reading into things.
She was captivating though. The way the hair fell across her forehead invited his hands. And her tank top molded perfectly to trim waist and small, perky breasts…
His Wranglers grew uncomfortably tight, and he tried not to shift in the seat. “Just a bit farther.”
“So the town you mentioned, there’s no garage there?”
“No. Actually, getting a tow truck out here is gonna be hell too. It would cost a fortune.”
Her brows furrowed.
Yep, he was right. She didn’t have a lot of money in that itty bitty leather handbag that probably had cost as much as a calf at auction. He knew good leather when he saw it.
“After I drop you at the house, I’ll grab a tow bar and go back for your car. The vehicle’s better on the ranch and off the road.”
“Okay.” She sounded uncertain and began to twist her fingers together. Looking at her fingers got him hard in a hurry. How soft would they be? Sure as hell a lot softer than his.
They weren’t painted pink, though—she wore no polish. And no rings.
They bumped along in silence until the house came into view.
