Stranded with the Rancher. Tina Radcliffe

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      “What are you doing in town then?” Ben asked.

      “With this weather we were short staffed at the pharmacy as well, so I came in for a bit.”

      “You left the cows alone?” Ben said the words with a laugh.

      “Oh, you know. The whole family pitches in. My mother can handle things in a pinch.”

      He nodded. “How is Joe doing?”

      “One step forward and two steps back.”

      “We’re praying,” Sara said.

      “Thanks.” Dan’s gaze met Beth’s. “Well, we’d better get moving.”

      She turned and hugged first Ben and then Sara. “Thank you for a lovely visit.” Beth patted baby Carolyn and her twin, Amanda, on their soft heads and smiled wistfully at them. A pang of longing filled her as she allowed herself to imagine what it would be like to be married and happy like her cousin. To have a child.

      “They are so beautiful,” she murmured.

      “Give them five minutes. They both just ate and forgot they have ear infections in progress. You won’t want to be here tonight when they remember again,” Sara said.

      “I’ll be back. As soon as my schedule permits,” Beth said.

      Dan Gallagher’s hand covered hers as they reached for the suitcase at the same time.

      She froze, embarrassed.

      “I’ve got it,” he said. Following her, he carried the bag into the small anteroom and then closed the door behind them before staring out the front door at the blizzard, which had risen out of nowhere in less than an hour’s time.

      A big silver pickup truck was parked in front of the house. The tarp that covered a snowmobile in the flatbed strained against its ties, while the edges of the blue fabric flapped furiously.

      “That’s quite a wind,” Beth said. She wrapped her wool scarf around her neck.

      Dan nodded as he pulled on a pair of dark leather gloves and picked up her suitcase again. “Ready?” he asked.

      “Yes.”

      When he opened the door a gust of wind rushed past and slammed into her, bringing stinging flakes along as well.

      Heads down, they dashed through the nearly ankle-deep snow to the curb. Yanking open the passenger door, Dan carefully helped her up and into the vehicle. Chivalry was still alive in Paradise, Beth mused.

      He adjusted his Stetson against the snow before he slid the suitcase into the backseat and then came around the truck to the driver’s side and got in. The man was well over six feet tall and the space inside the cab seemed to noticeably shrink as he settled in his seat. For the first time Beth really looked at him.

      Beneath the brim of the Stetson his black hair was trimmed short, and the shadow of a beard accented his square jaw. When he turned slightly and his gaze met hers, Beth found herself staring into calm, slate-colored eyes. She turned away, embarrassed to be caught.

      She cleared her throat. “I, ah, I really appreciate this.” She brushed the snow off her hair and reached for her seat belt.

      “Not a problem.” He pulled on his own seat belt.

      “What would you be doing if I wasn’t tagging along?”

      “I was heading home. This is just another day for me. Winter in Paradise means that some days getting home requires a bit more patience than other days.”

      “Where is it you live?” she asked.

      “Outside of Paradise.”

      “And where is Gunbarrel?”

      “A little bit farther down the road,” Dan said.

      “You’re sure we can get there?”

      “Ma’am, I’m only sure of a few things in life. But I can tell you this—if I can’t get through then no one can.”

      The CB radio crackled as the truck roared like a wakening lion. A moment later the massive windshield wipers began to slowly shovel the snow away in large wedges. The big blades moved with a thumping rhythm.

      You won’t make it. You won’t make it. They chanted the words over and over again.

      Biting her lower lip, Beth ignored the mocking and focused on trying to see the road ahead. She had to make it to New York. She’d spent too many years working her way out of her circumstances to once again be at the mercy of something she couldn’t control.

      * * *

      “What’s in New York?” Dan finally asked. They’d driven in companionable silence for several miles, and though the driving was slow, they were well past the outskirts of town.

      “I have a locum tenens position that starts on Monday,” Beth answered.

      “Locum tenens? You’re a temp doctor?” He couldn’t help the surprise in his voice.

      “Yes.”

      Dan cocked his head and shot her a glance. “If you don’t mind my asking, why would you want to be a temp doc instead of having your own practice?”

      “I like traveling. New cities. New adventures.”

      “Ah, you’re one of those.” His gaze again left the road for a moment and met her cool blue eyes.

      “Excuse me?” Annoyance laced her voice as she pushed strands of toffee-brown hair away from her face and stared at him.

      “I just mean you’re a wanderer.”

      “A wanderer?” She paused briefly, considering his words. “You’re implying I’m lost?”

      Dan held back a chuckle, recalling the Tolkien quote, “Not all who wander are lost.” Another glance at Dr. Elizabeth Rogers told him she wouldn’t be amused by the reference.

      “No, ma’am,” he finally returned.

      As if reading his mind, she exhaled sharply, obviously more than a little defensive. “You know, there’s nothing wrong with—”

      Her voice trailed off when the vehicle suddenly lurched forward.

      From habit Dan reached out an arm to protect his passenger.

      When the truck jerked to the left he gripped the steering wheel tightly with both hands, struggling to maintain control.

      Something didn’t feel right with the steering. Too much play. He’d noticed the same thing earlier in the week, but had dismissed it as his imagination. Now he chastised himself for not taking the truck in to be checked.

      “You okay?” he asked as the vehicle slowed.

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