Randall On The Run. Judy Christenberry

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      “Do you think you could raise the seat a little?”

      Jessica thought about that. Reaching over him would practically put them body to body again. Not a good idea. “How about I put another pillow under your head? After you eat, you’re going to want to lie down again. That’ll be easier.”

      “Okay.”

      When they were out of town, she pulled off the road and dug out Murphy’s food first. Opening up the paper the burgers were wrapped in, she put them both out for Murphy.

      “The dog gets served first?”

      “If I don’t fix his first, he eats mine…or yours. Do you want that?”

      “Nope.”

      “Now, here’s your hamburger and fries. I’ll put your drink in the holder. If you can’t reach it, let me know.”

      “We’re not going to stop to eat?”

      Jessica shook her head. “Didn’t you hear the girl? There’s a front coming in.”

      “But she said it wouldn’t snow here.”

      “We’re not staying here. We’re heading north.”

      JESSICA HAD BEEN driving for several hours. By her calculations, she had only three hours to go. That was when she saw the first snowflakes in the glare of her headlights. Since she was traveling northeast, she had hopes of outrunning the brunt of the storm.

      Some winters the snow held off until mid-November, but here it was only a few days into the month and it was snowing hard already. The farther north she drove, the heavier the snow fell. She pushed a little harder on the accelerator.

      The sight of flashing red lights in her rearview mirror made her stomach roil. Immediately she slowed and pulled off the road. Then she made sure the blanket was pulled up over Steve’s shoulder.

      It was too late to hide him.

      She lowered her window partway and waited for the policeman to reach her side. “Good evening, Officer,” she said.

      “Evening, ma’am. May I see your license and registration?”

      “Yes, of course.” She bent over and found her purse on the floorboard. Then she took out her license. Thankfully, she’d kept her Wyoming license in her billfold underneath her California license. Now she handed the man both.

      “You have two licenses?” the patrolman asked in surprise as he examined the articles with the flashlight.

      “I kept my Wyoming license when I got my new one in Los Angeles. Now I’m moving back to Wyoming.”

      “I see, Miss…Randall? Are you part of the Randall family in Rawhide?”

      “Yes, I am. My father is Brett Randall.”

      “Well, Miss Randall, I’m proud to meet Brett’s daughter. You were driving a little fast, but I’m sure— Is there something wrong with your friend?”

      Jessica swallowed. “Yes, my fiancé is suffering from the flu. That’s why I was hurrying. I wanted to get home to Rawhide and not have to stop because of the snow.”

      “And you’re bringing him home to meet the family? Well, I can see how that would be important. But you must promise me you won’t go too fast and if you have to stop because of the snow, do so. I wouldn’t want you to be wrecked in some ditch somewhere. Your daddy would never forgive me.”

      “I promise. I’ll be careful.”

      “And be sure to reapply for another license, okay?”

      “Yes, sir.” Jessica sent him a thankful smile and watched as he walked back to his vehicle. Then she eased back onto the road again.

      “Your family must be awfully important,” Steve muttered.

      “How long have you been awake?” Jessica demanded, grateful he hadn’t spoken while the officer was there.

      “Long enough to know you’re my fiancée now.”

      Jessica gasped. “I—I just told him that because I didn’t want him asking for your identification. Do you even have any?”

      “Yeah, I’ve got— Hey, it’s snowing!”

      “That was why I was going too fast. Now I’ve got to be careful. He’ll probably call Daddy.”

      “At least he hadn’t gotten a bulletin about pulling you over from L.A. I was worried about that,” Steve said with a sigh.

      She leaned toward him and felt his forehead. “Your fever is rising again. If I give you a bottle of water and some aspirin, can you take them by yourself?” she asked.

      “Of course I can.”

      She handed him the water, then dug in her purse with one hand for the aspirin bottle, which she gave him. “It’s a child protection cap. Can you open it?”

      “I’m not a child.” The fever was doing nothing to assuage his attitude, obviously.

      Steve worked on the bottle but had no success. Still, he never asked for help. After a while, she pulled the SUV over to the side of the road and held out her palm. “Hand it over.”

      He still seemed reluctant to admit defeat. “I can’t see the arrows in the dark,” he said, as grumpy as an overtired child.

      She opened it and handed him two pills. “Do you need help with the water too?”

      He said nothing, merely shot her a testy look and unscrewed the cap. He took his dosage and laid his head back, not saying a word.

      “Are you warm enough?” The temperature was dropping and the snow coming down harder as they climbed to a higher elevation. Her wipers and defroster were struggling to keep up.

      “I am a little cold,” he said grudgingly.

      She dug past Murphy in the back and pulled out another blanket, which she spread over Steve’s long legs. Much to her surprise, Steve muttered a thank-you.

      Tucking the blanket over his wounded shoulder, she took a long look at her patient. Considering the circumstances, she guessed he was doing as well as he could. There was something about him that told her his surliness was only a byproduct of the situation, not a permanent part of his personality.

      His dark hair fell over his forehead, and she pushed it back with a light touch. She told herself it was only to check his temperature, but she knew better. She wanted to touch him. Judging by the scars she saw on his face, Steve had certainly seen his share of trouble. Or maybe that was part and parcel of his career, roughing it up with the bad guys. For some reason she was suddenly glad that she was the one who’d found him in the alley. She was the one who could bring him to safety. Wherever that may be.

      The falling snow had covered her windshield, creating a cocoonlike atmosphere in the car. Tucked СКАЧАТЬ