The Baby Blizzard. Caroline Cross

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      But that wasn’t going to happen to her.

      She refused to let it. She hadn’t spent twenty-nine years bending the world to her will to give up now when it really mattered. Not when she’d only recently come to understand what was really important. Not when there were still so many things she wanted to experience. And not when she had someone else—she glanced protectively down at the ripe curve of her belly—depending on her.

      She tugged on her seat belt, frowning when the buckle refused to budge. Stymied, she sat there and reconsidered that scream, but only for a second. The first thing she’d done once the car came to rest was turn off the engine. Already the air around her was starting to turn frosty. While that was better than risking carbon monoxide poisoning from a blocked or bent exhaust pipe, it was still far too cold for useless gestures.

      She reached over, snagged her oversize down parka from the passenger seat and draped it around her.

      And told herself—again—not to panic.

      After all, she wasn’t going to freeze to death in the next few minutes. If worse came to worst, she’d simply find her handbag, grab her nail scissors and hack her way through the belt.

      If the scissors were there to grab.

      Tess resolutely raised her chin and told herself she was not going to worry about that, either. She had an ace in the hole, she reminded herself, recalling the big, fierce-looking cowboy with whom she’d been playing car tag for the past several hours. He hadn’t been that far behind her. He must have seen what had happened. More than likely, he was on his way to help her at this very moment.

      Unless his heart turned out to be as black as his expression and he simply drove on.

      Tess gave herself a shake. Knock it off. This is Wyoming, remember? Not LA. or New York. Around here, people look out for each other. He’ll stop. So he looks a tad forbidding. He’ll probably turn out to be reserved or shy, a real cupcake of a guy—

      “Ma’am?” came a forceful baritone shout.

      A light flashed through the window. Momentarily blinded, Tess brought up her hand as the car door was unceremoniously wrenched open.

      “Are you okay?” Her rescuer had to holler to be heard over a sudden roar of wind. Even so, his voice was distinct—dark and demanding. A perfect match for his face, Tess decided, as she stared at him in the faint illumination of the dome light.

      Forget shy. Forget reserved. Forget cupcake.

      Think intense. Think guarded. Think formidable. From what she could see beneath his hat—shadowed eyes, a straight blade of a nose, a slash of cheekbones, an imperious mouth—he was even more forbidding up close than he’d been from a distance.

      “Are you hurt? Answer me.”

      Intimidating or not, she’d never been so glad to see anyone in her life. Relief slammed into her, making moisture sting her eyes and her voice catch in her throat. She swallowed hard, suspecting as she looked up at that uncompromising face that he’d hate it if she burst into tears. She knew for a fact she would. She swallowed again and tried gamely for a lightness she didn’t feel. “It’s about time you got here.”

      He froze in the act of hunkering down. His eyes, pale green in the murky light, narrowed. “What?”

      Forget a sense of humor, too. Tess raised her voice. “I’m fine.”

      He continued to stare, as if he didn’t believe her. “Are you sure?”

      She considered the dull ache in her lower back, concluded the pain scored no more than a two on a scale of one to ten, and opted to ignore it. “Yes.”

      “All right, then.” Relief lightened his face, but did nothing to soften its angular planes. “Give me your hand and let’s get you out of there. This storm’s getting worse by the minute.”

      She shook her head. “The seat belt is jammed. I can’t get it unfastened.”

      His eyes flickered over her jacket-covered body. Inexplicably, his jaw bunched for an instant before his expression smoothed out. He hooked the flashlight to his belt, twisted sideways so that he faced her, leaned close and reached around her. His forearm, hard and warm even through the padding of his heavy coat, brushed against the mound of her belly. “What the—?” He went very still. “What is that?”

      Tess stiffened. “What’s what?”

      “That... lump.”

      She stared at him in disbelief, oddly aware of the weight of his arm against her. “That’s not a lump,” she informed him. “That’s me. I’m pregnant.”

      He gave her a long, blank look, then snatched away his hand and rocked back on his heels. “Well, hell,” he muttered, looking away. “It figures.”

      The words, clearly not meant for her ears, carried with crystal clarity during a momentary lull in the wind. She raised an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”

      For one long second, he remained silent, the hard line of his mouth even harder now. Then he shook his head and gave the slightest shrug. “Forget it,” he murmured. He leaned forward and once more reached around her, and an instant later the belt gave way. He ducked back as if he couldn’t get away fast enough. “Come on.” His voice gruff, he stood.

      She stayed where she was. “But the car—”

      “Isn’t going anywhere. Not now. Probably not for a while. Even if I could see to winch you out, the road’s too icy to get any traction. In case you haven’t noticed, it’s dark—and getting darker.”

      Tess looked around in surprise. He was right. As incredible as it seemed, with the snow falling and the wind roaring, she’d been so intent on him, so totally taken with their exchange, she’d actually forgotten about the weather.

      Which appeared to be getting worse. And still she hesitated. “I don’t even know your name.”

      “Oh, for—” Annoyance flashed in those leaf-green eyes before he quickly got himself under control. “Jack,” he said flatly. “My name is Jack Sheridan, okay?”

      “And I’m Tess—”

      “Terrific. So listen, Tess. We need to get to my truck. Now. While we still can.”

      He was right, of course. Annoyed at herself for behaving so foolishly, Tess swung her feet to the ground, trying to figure out why she felt compelled to challenge him.

      The answer came a moment later, as she began the awkward process of extricating the rest of herself from the car. Without warning, Jack leaned in, grasped her firmly above each elbow and lifted her out. Then. in a few brusque, capable movements, he bundled her into her parka, zipped it, reached into the car and retrieved her car keys, pocketbook and overnight bag. “Here.” He handed her the first two items. “Put your keys away and sling the shoulder strap of your purse around your neck so your hands are free, okay?”

      That’s when Tess knew. She’d never done very well with authority figures, and this guy was more than a little bossy. He was autocratic.

      Which СКАЧАТЬ