Lightning Strikes. Mary Baxter Lynn

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      Still, she was safe. Or was she?

      “Please, will you just drive, mister.” Her voice continued down its shaky path, although the warmth in the truck had made a dent into her bones, easing the pain there.

      “Hell, I was thinking of pulling over until this mess stopped.”

      “You can’t do that!” Panic underlined her every word.

      Apparently he picked up on that. His tone softened when he said, “Even an old dumb Texas cowboy knows trouble when he sees it. And you’re in trouble, right?”

      She would have laughed if the situation wasn’t so serious. Her, in trouble? Of course she was in trouble, she wanted to shout. Even this Texas road warrior couldn’t be in the habit of picking up strange, bedraggled women dressed in mud-soaked wedding gowns.

      “Wanna talk about it?” he asked, giving her a quick, sharp look before cutting his eyes back on the road.

      “No! Yes! I mean, I just want you to drive.”

      “By the way, my name’s Alton Evers.”

      She nodded.

      “What’s yours.”

      “Er, Randi.”

      “Okay, Randi, any place in particular you wanna go?”

      Again she shook her head. “I’ll go wherever you’re going.”

      Alton shoved his hat back and scratched his forehead. “Damn, ain’t that something? Ain’t never had a woman tell me that, especially one who was dressed in a wedding gown.” He chuckled. “Well me, I’m heading to Phoenix.”

      Randi’s stomach did another somersault. If she’d had any other alternative, she would’ve bounded out of that truck. But she didn’t. She had to stay put and pray that he would shift gears and drive on.

      She waited with bated breath, almost tasting his curiosity. Once they were on their way, she would tell him her story. Now all she could do was plead with him through frightened eyes not to ask any question—just drive. Suddenly, she cringed as another flash of lightning and bolt of thunder jarred the truck.

      “Dammit, if my rear didn’t tell me better, I’d say I was back in good ole Texas. You know, we have these kinda storms every spring. They’re worse than this, if you can believe that. Why, lightning’s been known to singe the hair right off a man’s arms, honest to Pete.”

      “Please, would you just drive.”

      Alton acted as if he wanted to argue with her, but he didn’t. Instead, he shifted into drive and pulled back onto the highway.

      “I’m here to tell you,” he said into the silence, leaning over the steering wheel, “we’re gonna be moving slower than molasses running uphill. I ain’t about to wreck my semi or myself for nothin’ or nobody.”

      “I understand,” Randi said in a strangled voice. “I just appreciate you picking me up.”

      “Ain’t no problem. Glad for the company, especially on a night like tonight.”

      Only she didn’t think she’d be good company, Randi thought, wanting to tell him that, but deciding against it. He’d figure that out soon enough.

      It was all she could do to keep her fractured mind and body together, yet she felt a sense of relief that at least they were finally putting distance between herself and Grand Springs.

      Her blood curdled when she thought of what she had done. Not only had she run out on her wedding and Hal, her husband-to-be, but she had run out on her family, as well.

      Hal would be livid, no question about that. Her brother, Noah, bless his soul, would be worried out of his mind. And her mother, Melissa, would be both livid and worried. At this juncture, Randi refused to dwell on their feelings. Anyway, to do so would be wasting good energy, energy that she had to conserve since she had no idea what the future held.

      Another shiver ran through her.

      “You still cold, miss?”

      “No, I’m fine.”

      “Yeah, right,” he muttered before focusing his attention back onto the treacherous road.

      It was bad enough that she’d decided at the last minute she couldn’t go through with the wedding, but…

      “You feel like talkin’?”

      His rough voice ripped into her thoughts. Her throat constricted again. “Not really.”

      “What did your old man do, knock you around?”

      “Excuse me?” Randi asked, his question jolting her.

      “Did he punch you or what?”

      “No…no.”

      “So why’d you cut out on him?”

      She gave him her full attention. “Look, I appreciate you helping me, and when I can, I’ll compensate you for it, but—”

      “You don’t want me askin’ no questions?”

      “That’s right,” she said in a small voice.

      “No problem.”

      If only things were that simple for her. If only she hadn’t overheard that conversation. But she had. She caught her breath and held it, not wanting to think about what had happened next.

      Who were those men she’d heard talking? After realizing she’d heard them, they had chased her. She paused, pulling air into her dry lungs. And both had had guns!

      Dear Lord, what had she stumbled into?

      If the blackout hadn’t occurred when it did, would they have found her and killed her?

      Yes.

      From the menacing looks on their faces, she was sure she would’ve been dead. But for now, she decided, glancing again at the driver, she was safe.

      Thanks to this tobacco-chewing Texas gentleman, she was putting distance between herself and the man she didn’t want to marry and the evil men who for some reason wanted to end her life.

      Chapter Three

      Amanda Jennings stepped back from the gurney while smiling down into the patient’s face, a young man who had been brought into the ER after having received a nasty clunk on the head. He had been working overtime at a local factory. He’d more than likely been so tired he’d been careless.

      She could identify with the former, but not the latter. In her job, she couldn’t afford to be careless. People’s lives were in her hands, a responsibility she had never taken lightly or shirked.

      “Feeling any better, Mr. Epps?” СКАЧАТЬ