Stranded with the Rancher. Tina Radcliffe

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      “Yes. Are you?”

      “Yeah.” He released a low whistle. “That was close.”

      “Why didn’t the air bags deploy?” she asked.

      “Not a frontal impact. The side impact wasn’t enough to deploy them.”

      She nodded and looked around. “What are we going to do?”

      “First, I’m going to assess the damage and then we’ll figure out exactly where we are.”

      “Do you want help?”

      “No, thanks. Best if you stay in the truck.” Dan shouldered the door, which resisted. Shoving all his weight against it, he was finally able to wedge it open enough to squeeze his way out and through the branches of the tree the truck had nestled against.

      Beth grabbed her phone from the floor and checked the GPS app. No signal. She tried the compass application before it occurred to her she couldn’t read a compass, anyhow.

      Was she completely useless outside of a medical clinic? Why hadn’t she become a Girl Scout? A little voice answered, Because you never lived in one place long enough.

      A knock at her window made her jump.

      Dan.

      Beth opened her door.

      He shook the snow off his hat and coat before he ducked his head inside the truck. Only inches away, she breathed in the scent of pine and man as he moved even closer, out of the wind. Tiny crystals of snow clung to his lashes, and Beth stared, mesmerized.

      “Compass?” he asked, with a glance at her phone.

      “Yes. But I can’t figure it out.”

      “That’s okay. I’ve got a better idea.”

      She raised her brows in question.

      “The truck’s not going anywhere. Rim and tire are a mess. No telling what else got damaged in the crash. It’s snowing too hard to find the mile markers, so I’m going to take the snowmobile out and verify our location.”

      “You’re leaving me?” Beth clutched his sleeve. Suddenly the job in New York seemed the least of her concerns.

      “I’ll be back.”

      “No,” she whispered adamantly. “Take me with you.” She’d been reduced to pleading like a child. But she didn’t care. He wasn’t going to leave her.

      “Elizabeth.” Dan’s voice was steady, firm and reassuring, talking her down from the ledge of fear she had climbed. “I’ll be right back.”

      “Beth. I’m just Beth.” The words were hollow. She stared at the snow accumulating on the windshield. Flake upon flake piled up, like a smothering blanket, until she could barely see daylight through the glass.

      “Beth.”

      Turning, she met his gaze. Dan Gallagher had kind eyes.

      “We’re going to be fine.” His lips curved into a gentle smile. “Okay?”

      “Okay.” A single word to rest her future on.

      “Here are the truck keys. If you absolutely have to, start the engine and run the heater. Keep the emergency brake on.”

      “You said you’re coming right back.”

      “That’s right.” He nodded, but continued talking. “I’ve got a first aid kit and crash cart supplies in the backseat in those two tackle boxes. The portable defibrillator is under the seat. There’s also emergency food and water in that red box. If you have to get out of the vehicle, stay away from the trees. We’re way too close to the ravine.”

      “We could have gone into the ravine?”

      “Those trees stopped us.”

      Stunned, she was silent for a moment. “I’d prefer not to die today if you don’t mind.”

      “I’ll try to remember that.” He stared deeply into her eyes as if searching for something. “Do you pray?” Dan asked.

      “What?”

      “Do you pray?”

      “I used to,” Beth murmured.

      “Now would be a good time to start again.” He tossed his Stetson in the backseat, turned up his collar and gently shut the door.

      The truck jostled as he lowered the liftgate and slid the snowmobile off the flatbed. The engine roared to life and a moment later the snowmobile’s headlight illuminated the truck and moved past. Barely a second later he was gone; swallowed up by the swirling snow.

      Beth closed her eyes and did what she always did when she was afraid. She began to count backward from one hundred, taking calming breaths.

      He’ll be back.

      Still the suffocating terror pressed in. That’s what your mother said. And she never came back.

      “Eighty-eight. Eighty-seven.”

      It had been a very long time since she had prayed. She’d spent her entire adult life focused on her goals, so she would never be in that place of desperation again. That vulnerable point, where God was her only hope.

      Yet here she was in the middle of nowhere. Lost. Her shot at the job she’d been waiting her entire career for was slipping through her fingers, and a cowboy pharmacist was out there risking his life on her behalf.

      “Sixty-four.”

      How had everything spun out of her careful control?

      Beth glanced around the truck cab. Exhaling, she watched a puff of breath appear like a small cloud, then evaporate.

      Pray, Dan had said.

      Did God even remember her?

      Lord, this is Bethy Rogers. I really need Your help.

       Chapter Two

      Beth exhaled. Her panicked breaths were accomplishing nothing more than creating a veil of condensation on the windshield. She wiped at the moisture with a gloved hand and then unbuttoned her wool coat. Then she checked her phone yet again.

      Dan had been gone thirty minutes.

      Her mind continued to race back and forth between worst-case scenarios.

      When the CB gave a static squawk Beth glanced down at the black box mounted between the passenger and driver seats. Maybe she should try to call someone on the radio to send help. Who would she contact? Ben? No, she didn’t want Ben or Sara out here risking their lives.

      Yet СКАЧАТЬ