Texas Tall

by Janet Dailey

  “I had fun tonight,” she said. “Thanks for talking me into this.”

  He reached across the table and captured her hand. “I’m hoping the night might get even better,” he said. “I’m falling hard for you, Tori. But before I crash and burn, I need to know where we’re headed. Are we ready for the ‘My place or yours’ question?”

  Tori had sensed what was coming, but his words had still caught her off balance. Scrambling for a reply that would put him off, without driving him away, she averted her gaze for a moment and glanced around the room.

  In the shadowed space behind the bar, a figure stood, holding a glass and a towel—a woman with a buxom figure and flame-red hair. Everybody knew who she was, of course. But what startled Tori was that Stella Rawlins was looking straight at her, those green eyes blazing with pure, murderous hatred.

  CHAPTER 6

  Chilled by Stella’s look, Tori shifted position, turning inward in the booth. Seated at an angle, she could no longer see the woman behind the bar. But she still felt the prickling awareness of those eyes, like a spider crawling up her back.

  For the first time, she realized how wise Will had been to insist on keeping Erin safe at the ranch. Stella Rawlins was capable of anything, and now her hatred was focused on the Tylers.

  As Will’s ex-wife and his lawyer, was she in danger, too? Maybe. But she refused to let that make a difference. She had her life and her work, and nobody, not even Stella, was going to intimidate her.

  “Tori?” Drew’s polite voice broke into her thoughts. “Did I say the wrong thing?”

  She pulled her attention back to him, choosing her words with care. “No, you said the perfect thing, Drew. I appreciate your honesty. I like you a lot—more than a lot. I like the way you make me feel and the way you always seem to be here for me.” She licked her lips, a nervous gesture. “When you kiss me, I feel all the right tingles. But I hope you’ll be patient a little longer. Right now, while I’m under so much stress, isn’t a good time to be swept into something new—not even if it’s something wonderful.”

  Had she been tactful enough? He looked disappointed. But he managed a smile. “If you’re under stress, I can think of a great remedy,” he joked. “But I understand—at least I’m trying to. Since I happen to think you’re a woman worth waiting for, I’ll try to be patient. But don’t expect me to wait forever, Tori.”

  “I know better than that. Just a little more time, that’s all I’m asking.” She nodded toward her half-emptied glass. “I think I’d better leave the rest. Too much beer has an unflattering effect on me.”

  “Ready to go, then?” Fishing out his wallet, he left a couple of bills on the table. Then he rose, gave Tori his hand, and ushered her outside. The wind had risen to a howl. It whipped Tori’s coat around her body as they walked to the car. The air carried the earthy scent of a coming storm. She filled her lungs with it, breathing away the stale, smoky odors of the Blue Coyote and the memory of those hate-filled eyes, watching her from the shadows.

  They drove back to her house, saying little. It isn’t too late to reverse course and invite him in, Tori reminded herself. She had little doubt that Drew would be a good lover, tender and considerate. But tonight she would be jittery, nervous, and torn by doubts. No, this wasn’t a good time. When it happened—if it happened—she wanted to be ready.

  He pulled the car into her driveway, walked her to the front door, and gave her a lingering kiss. “Think about what I said,” he murmured as she unlocked the door. “Call me if you change your mind.”

  From the open doorway, she watched his big, sleek car glide out of the driveway. As the taillights vanished down the street, she closed the door behind her and switched on a lamp. The house was quiet. Safe, she thought, unless one of Stella’s minions was hiding in a closet, ready to jump out at her. Maybe she should have invited Drew inside. At least she wouldn’t have been here alone.

  Laughing at her own fear, she walked through the split-level house, turning on the lights. Nothing. She was being silly. All the same, she was glad Erin was safe on the Rimrock with Will.

  She paused, thinking of her daughter. When she’d brought Erin to the ranch on Saturday, she hadn’t planned on leaving her there. Most of the clothes Erin liked, along with spare underthings, sanitary pads, schoolbooks, and other necessities, were here. Tori had already packed a suitcase for her and planned to take it when she drove to the ranch tomorrow. But with a storm moving in, the roads might be better tonight. She glanced at her watch. It was barely ten-thirty, not too late to change clothes, make the twenty-mile drive to the ranch, and stay the night in Beau’s old room.

  Fifteen minutes later, dressed in her jeans and her warm ranch coat, she was driving down Main Street, headed out of town. After she passed the last streetlight, the night was pitch-black, darkened by the clouds that had poured in over the caprock to fill the sky. Wind battered the old pickup, threatening to blow it off the road. Tori’s fingers cramped on the wheel as she struggled to hold it steady.

  She’d been driving about ten minutes when the storm broke in full fury. Lightning streaked across the sky. A fusillade of marble-sized hailstones blasted the vehicle with a clattering roar, covering the road in an instant. Worried but calm, Tori geared down and turned on the wipers. She’d driven in bad storms before. She’d be fine.

  The windshield had fogged over. Remembering too late that the truck had no air-conditioning to clear the glass, she punched the defroster button and cleared a spot with her hand. Her headlights showed nothing but white. She was driving blind. But she’d traveled this road hundreds of times over the years. The ranch turnoff couldn’t be more than a few minutes ahead. She didn’t dare pull off the road and wait. The storm could get even worse, stranding her. She had to get to the house.

  The truck crept forward through the swirling whiteness. Hailstorms tended to pass with the storm front, giving way to rain or sleet. Surely, this one would stop in the next few minutes. If anyone in the house had left a light on, she’d be able to see it in the distance and find the gravel lane that turned off the main road. Maybe she should call. But her purse, with her phone in it, was out of easy reach. If she braked to find it, she could kill the engine or skid on the ice-slicked road.

  She pushed on, minute after tension-fraught minute, inching forward with the defroster on full blast. By now, she knew she’d missed the turnoff to the lane. But the road’s steep edges gave her no room to turn around without the risk of sliding off and getting stuck. What she needed was a wide spot or, better yet, a side road to a ranch or farm where she could drive in, back out, and make the turn.

  The hail had given way to a driving, icy sleet that froze on the surface of the road. As the whiteout cleared to a dark gray, Tori could make out the road’s shoulder in the headlights. Just ahead, a rutted lane cut off to the right, probably leading to a farm—just what she’d been looking for. Tapping the brake, she eased the wheel into a careful right turn. So far, so good. But she’d only gone a few feet down the cutoff when she realized her mistake. The farm road sloped at a sharp angle from the high shoulder of the road. Under these icy conditions, its steep surface could be too slippery for the truck to back out.

  She stopped the vehicle, pulled the hand brake, and shifted into neutral, with the engine still idling. Surely, the old pickup would have four-wheel drive. Tori searched on and under the dashboard, but couldn’t find any way to switch it over. All she could do was try to back out.

  With a muttered prayer she shifted into reverse, released the hand brake, and floored the gas pedal. The engine roared. The worn tires spun on the slick ice. But the truck didn’t move.

  She slumped over the wheel, collecting her thoughts. The only option left was to keep going down the farm road and hope it led to someplace where she could find shelter.

  Taking a deep breath, she drove slowly forward. Beyond the reach of the truck’s headlights, the road descended into a black fog. Between the storm and the clouded windshield, Tori
was driving almost blind. She didn’t see the electric wire fence and the bulky forms of cattle on the far side of it until she was about to crash into it.

  Swallowing a scream, she slammed her foot on the brake. The truck fishtailed and skidded to a stop, inches from the fence.

  The engine had died. Shaking, Tori turned off the ignition and pulled the hand brake. She couldn’t go forward; she couldn’t back up; she’d be a fool to get out of the truck in the storm. She wasn’t going anywhere. It was time to find her phone and call for help.

  She’d tossed her purse into the backseat with Erin’s suitcase. Hooking the strap with her finger, she dragged the purse into the front and fished out her cell phone. The display screen showed a low-battery signal. Tori muttered an unladylike curse. She usually plugged in the phone when she went to bed, but it was too late for that now, and she’d left her car charger in her station wagon.

  If I could just reach one person . . .

  Mentally crossing her fingers, she scrolled to Will’s number and pressed call. Her heart sank as she counted the rings. No answer. When his voice message came on, she spoke rapidly. “Will, I’m stuck off the road in the storm, somewhere past—”

  She broke off in midsentence. Her phone had gone dark.

  * * *

  Will had gone to bed early in the hope of getting some needed rest. But between the storm outside and the worry demons in his head, sleep was impossible. Around ten-thirty, he rolled out of bed, dressed, and took a moment to look in on Erin. Then, shrugging into his sheepskin coat, he went out to his truck.

  Icy sleet spattered the pickup as he drove the back roads of the Rimrock, using his powerful spotlight to check every fence, every pasture where the cattle were gathered. Not that he could do much if any of them were in trouble. That would have to wait for daylight. But every animal was precious. In terms of hard cash, the death of any cow, calf, or steer would mean a two-thousand-dollar loss to the ranch.

  The crews had done all they could to protect the cattle against cold and wind. But in an open pasture, there wasn’t much that could be done about lightning. As a boy Will had seen what one lightning strike could do to a closely packed herd. The memory of those charred, swollen bodies would haunt his nightmares for the rest of his life.

  There’d been lightning strikes, dangerously close, as the storm front moved through. Dawn would tell if the lightning had done any damage. Tonight there was nothing he could do.

  He was turning around to go back to the house when the spotlight caught a movement along the fence. Driving closer, Will saw that one of the spring calves, probably panicked by the storm, had run headlong into the fence and become caught in the wire. Unless it was cut loose, the young animal wouldn’t last till morning. Turning up his collar, Will climbed out in the icy downpour and hauled his toolbox out of the back of the truck. He got a rope as well. If the six-hundred-pound calf tried to fight him, he’d need a way to control it. Maybe he ought to call the bunkhouse for some help. But he remembered then that he’d left his cell phone on the nightstand by the bed. He was on his own.

  Fortunately for him, the calf had worn itself out struggling and didn’t put up much resistance. Still, it took Will a good twenty minutes, working in the glare of the headlights, to cut through the tangle of wire and free the calf, which loped off bawling for its mother. By then, his hands were numb inside his soaked, half-frozen leather gloves. His teeth were chattering, his clothes clammy against his chilled skin.

  He took time to close the hole in the fence and put away his tools. Then he piled into the truck, turned up the heater, and headed back to the house.

  At least he wouldn’t have to worry about Tori tonight. She’d phoned Erin that afternoon, saying she had a date that night and planned to drive out to the ranch in the morning. She was probably snuggled in a warm bed with that fancy new man of hers right now. Well, why the hell not? Tori was a free woman. She could damn well sleep with anybody she wanted. What was it to him? Right now, all he wanted was a hot shower and a few hours of decent rest before first light.

  He’d made it to his bedroom and was peeling his wet clothes off his shivering body when he remembered his cell phone. Reflexively, he reached for it. He’d been out of the house for more than an hour. Tired as he was, on a night like this, he needed to check for messages.

  There was only one. Will’s throat jerked tight as he heard Tori’s frightened voice, cutting off before she could tell him where she was, if she even knew. The fool woman must’ve decided to come tonight, after all. And she’d been caught in the storm, driving blind in that old truck with its worn tires. Lord, she could be anywhere. He checked the time on the message. She must’ve called soon after he’d left the house. Wherever she was, she’d been there for at least an hour.

  Will grabbed for dry clothes and pulled them on in urgent haste. Somewhere out there, in the storm, lost and cold and scared, Tori was waiting for him to find her.

  * * *

  The cab of the rusty pickup was frigid inside. Shivering beneath her midweight coat, Tori searched the backseat for some kind of blanket or even an old spare jacket. But the truck had been left clean. She found nothing.

  She was tempted to start the engine and turn on the heater, but the gas tank was almost empty—and in this old vehicle, there was the worry of an exhaust leak filling the cab with deadly carbon monoxide. Likewise, if she left the lights on, the truck might be easier to spot. But if no one came by, she could run the battery so low that the truck wouldn’t start.

  She checked the luminous dial on her watch. It was after midnight. She’d been stuck here more than an hour. There was no way to know if Will had gotten her message, or if anybody was out looking for her.

  Maybe she should have called Drew instead. Sensible fellow that he was, he would probably have called the highway patrol. The troopers would have found her by now. She’d be safe and warm somewhere.

  But Will? If she’d reached him at all, the man would be out driving the roads in the storm, growing more frustrated and annoyed by the minute. If he found her, she could expect an angry chewing-out all the way back to the ranch for putting herself in danger. She imagined his Bull Tyler voice, as she’d always called it, dressing her down as if she were a misbehaving child.

  But even that would be better than not being found.

  Teeth chattering, she pulled her coat tighter. If she’d accepted Drew’s polite proposition, the evening would have ended very differently. Maybe she’d been wrong to refuse. She liked Drew a lot, and he was great husband material—good-looking, kind, stable, and great with children. She knew several attractive women in town who’d likely jump at the chance to sleep with him. Was she a fool to risk losing a man who could give her a happy life because she wasn’t ready to do the same?

  A layer of ice had formed on the outside of the truck. Tori could no longer see through the windows. If Will had missed her phone call, nobody would be looking for her. She could be here all night.

  How much cold could a body stand before hypothermia set in? she wondered. Was it possible to freeze inside a closed vehicle like this one?

  Drained by cold and fatigue, she yawned. What she wouldn’t give right now for a warm bed—with or without Drew Middleton in it. Drew wouldn’t have had much luck tonight. All she’d want to do was sleep.

  Tori’s eyelids were drooping. Her head sagged, then jerked up again. She mustn’t sleep. She needed to stay alert, to move, to stay warm. But she was so tired, too tired to keep herself from drifting. She slumped over the steering wheel.

  Find me . . . Please find me, Will . . .

  She jerked awake with a startled gasp. Something—or someone—was banging hard on the outside of the truck. Ice shattered as the heavy hammer broke through, splintering the safety glass on the side window. Through the fog in her mind, a voice, hoarse with strain, shouted her name. Will’s voice.

  Seconds later, he’d freed the door and yanked it open. In the glare of headlights, he looked like a wil
d man, red-eyed and unshaven, his woolen cap askew on his head, his coat crusted with ice. As she stirred and sat up, he lowered his arms and, for a moment, simply stared at her.

  “What the hell, Tori?” he said.

  Tori didn’t even try to respond. She tried to climb down from the driver’s seat, but her cramped legs buckled beneath her. She fell out of the truck into his arms. He was cold, his bare hands icy, his stubbled chin rough against her forehead. His arms held her painfully tight, their strength almost crushing her.

  “Fool woman!” he muttered. “Come on!”

  Scooping her up, he carried her to his pickup, which was parked on the asphalt road with its lights on. The engine was idling. She could feel the heater’s blessed warmth as he shoved her onto the seat. “Erin’s suitcase . . .” she muttered. “My purse. Get them.”

  Slamming the door, he vanished down the slope, into the dark. In a moment he was back, climbing into the driver’s seat and tossing her things, along with the hammer, into the space behind. From somewhere, he pulled out a moth-eaten blanket and thrust it toward her. It was dusty and smelled like the dog, but it was warm. Tori laid it over her legs as he geared down. The truck roared up the road. Within a quarter mile was a farm gate with a wide, level area to turn around. Only when they were headed back toward the ranch did he speak again.

  “Damn it, Tori, you could’ve died out there! You missed the turnoff to the ranch lane by a couple of miles. What were you thinking?”

  “I couldn’t see. I was lost.”

  “At least you could’ve let somebody know you were on your way—even Erin or Bernice.”

  “It was late.”

  “Then maybe you should’ve waited till morning. Three hundred head of cattle to worry about, and I spend half the night chasing all over creation after one mule-headed woman! Do you know how long it took me to find you?”