Читать книгу Stranded with the Rancher - Tina Radcliffe - Страница 10
ОглавлениеBeth 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 Dan Gallagher was. For her. Did he have family waiting for him?
Beth swallowed hard, considering the implications of her dogged decision to get to Gunbarrel.
Calm down.
Dan’s job is dealing with snow emergencies. He’ll be fine. He’ll be back soon.
Right?
She leaned against the seat and stared at the ceiling of the cab. “Please, Lord, keep Dan safe.”
Twice in one day she’d called upon the Lord. The realization stunned her. It had no doubt stunned Him, as well.
Moments later the distant rumble of a snowmobile engine broke the silence.
Apparently He was still listening.
She whispered a thank-you and shoved open the door of the truck.
The moment her booted foot pushed through the deep snow and made contact with the ground, she realized her error. Six inches of March snow covered a slick surface.
Her feet scissored back and forth in a crazed dance as she made a frantic attempt to gain traction on the slippery ground.
“Oomph.”
Beth landed unceremoniously on her left side. Who knew snow could hurt so much? She rolled to her back and lay there, regrouping, as the snowflakes continued to fall on her.
The hint of gas fumes tickled her nose a moment before Dan appeared. She barely knew the man, but as he towered above her, dressed all in black, with the helmet on and his goggles around his neck, she dared to release a small smile.
Oh, he looked good. Very good.
“You okay?” he asked.
Beth met his concerned gaze. “I’ll be fine,” she murmured, as she struggled to a sitting position and then wiped the snow from her face.
“How do you know?”
“Because I’m a doctor and doctors don’t lie.” She arched a brow. “Hippocratic oath.”
Dan chuckled, a wry smile curling his full lips before he suddenly sobered. “Loose translation. Besides, I wasn’t doubting your integrity. I was assessing you. No pain in the arm or shoulder? You landed awfully hard on that left side.”
“You saw me fall?”
“Yeah. Sorry.”
She sighed and blew strands of hair out of her eyes. Her last attempt at dignity disappeared like the vaporous clouds she exhaled each time she spoke.
“Let me help you up.”
“No, I can—”
Before she could continue her protest, he crouched down, wrapped an arm around her waist and heaved her to a standing position, all in one swift and heroic movement.
“You sure you’re okay?” he asked again.
Beth gave a tight little nod and then scooted inches away from him until her backside was flat against the passenger seat of the open cab. He was close, much too close. Close enough that the heat from the tall cowboy reached out to warm her.
The fall she could handle. The genuine concern in Dan’s eyes, combined with the unexpected comfort and strength of his arm... Well, that was another matter. She brushed ineffectually at her limp, wet jeans.
Oblivious to the fact that he was right in the middle of her personal space, Dan leaned against the inside of the door, his broad shoulders shielding her from the weather.
“Do you want the good news first or the bad news?”
“Bad new first. Always.”
“We’re not going to make it to Gunbarrel tonight.”
“Okay,” she said.
“Really? You’re okay with that?” Confused, he rubbed a hand over his face.
“Let’s just say my priorities have shifted considerably.”
He shook his head as if he understood. “Okay, then, well, the good news is we’re about ten miles outside of Paradise. Closer to the ranch than anywhere else.”
“The ranch.” She nodded. “And your wife, she won’t mind that you’re bringing home a strange woman?”
“Are you strange?”
Beth fought the urge to laugh.
“I’m not married.” He stared at a spot above her head. “Well, not anymore,” he murmured. “We’re going to head to my mother’s. She has a big, old house with lots of room. Now that the family is grown, it’s only her, and my daughter, who stays with her after school.”
“You have a daughter?’
Dan’s face lit up. “Yeah. She’s six.”
“You’re sure that your mother won’t mind the intrusion?”
“Oh, you know how mothers are.”
“Not really.”
Dan narrowed his eyes at her comment. “I can tell you that my mother likes nothing more than feeding people and clucking over them. She’s out of practice, with an empty house.”
“If you say so. What about your cows? I thought you had cows to take care of.”
“The cows are at the ranch.”
Beth blinked, confused.
“My mother lives in the main house at the ranch. My brother and I have our own cabins nearby.”
“Your entire family lives in the same place?”
“Yeah.” He paused, obviously taken aback. “But you make it sound like we should be on a reality TV show or something.”
Beth bit her lip and barely resisted a laugh. “No, I’m sorry. It’s me who’s behaving oddly. Not you. I’m not accustomed to all this familial closeness.”
“I take it you don’t live near your family?”
“Ben and his parents are my only relatives. Plus Sara and the girls now, too, I guess.” And that was enough sharing. She glanced at the backseat. “May I bring my suitcase?”
“I’ll come back for your bag.”
“I need my clothes.”
“Could you shove a few things in your tote bag? I’ve got to take the portable defibrillator with us. Too expensive a toy to leave out here. The snowmobile doesn’t have much storage space, and the defibrillator will take up a lot of it.”
“Sure. Okay, I can do that.”
Dan opened the backseat and Beth leaned in to unzip the side of her suitcase.
“Do you mind turning your head?” she asked.
“Turn my head?” He narrowed his eyes.
“This is rather embarrassing. I have, um, personal items.”
“And I have two sisters.”
“That’s nice, but I’m an only child. So turn your head, please.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
He laughed and the sound—rich, deep and warm—caught her off guard.
Beth smiled as she grabbed her flannel pajamas and a change of clothes. With a quick peek to be sure he really wasn’t looking, she shoved in a few more things.
“Ready?”
“Yes.”
“We should hurry. The storm is getting worse.”
“How can you tell?”
Dan looked up at the dark gray sky. “See how the wind is kicking up again?”
She tilted her head back. The clouds were moving quickly and the aspens had begun to wave, whipping snow that looked like white dust into the air.
“We won’t be able to go anywhere in whiteout conditions.”
He was besting her worst-case scenario list without even trying.
“And I’m guessing pitching a tent in the middle of a blizzard isn’t on your list of fun and adventurous things to do,” Dan added.
“You’re not serious.”
“Oh, yeah. I am. The snowmobile has an emergency survival kit in the extra storage bin.” Dan moved closer and Beth stepped back, nearly slipping again.
“Whoa.” He grabbed her by the shoulders, keeping her upright.
“Oh!” A cry of pain ripped from her lips.
“You did hurt yourself.” His words were a warm whisper against her hair.
“I’m fine. Possibly a sprain, if anything.”
“We’ll check it out at the ranch.”
Beth frowned. Not likely.
“Okay. Bundle up. It’ll be cold. And wrap that scarf so it covers your mouth.”
Ben lifted the backseat of the snowmobile and pulled out another pair of goggles from a storage space before he put the small portable defibrillator and her tote bag inside the compartment.
He breathed onto the goggle lenses before handing them to her.
“I want you to pay close attention to how I move on the machine. If I lean forward, you lean forward. If I stand, you stand.”
Beth nodded.
“Just follow my lead. It’s a lot like a motorcycle for the passenger,” he said with a shrug.
“I’ve never ridden a motorcycle,” Beth admitted as she adjusted the goggles.
Dan raised a brow, but didn’t utter a word of surprise, and was kind enough not to mention her previous claims of seeking adventure.
“One last thing,” he said. “If there are any problems and it looks like I’m going to have to roll the machine and then jump off, I want you to jump away and uphill, as far from the snowmobile as you can.”
Beth gulped. Her gaze met his.
“Stay alert and keep your hands on me at all times. Understand?”
Again she gave a nod of understanding, this time accompanied by a smile of false bravado.
Reaching into the flatbed, he pulled out a black helmet identical to his.
When he handed it to her, Beth slipped it on her head.
Dan yanked off his gloves. “I’m going to adjust the strap. Don’t be in a rush to step away from me again or you might fall.”
Beth stood still, her cheeks tingling with embarrassment as she stared straight ahead at the dark stubble on his jaw and the patch of skin visible where his jacket met his neck. She feigned composure as his warm fingers brushed against her chin.
Finally, she dared to meet his eyes.
They reflected only compassion. “It really is going to be all right,” he said softly.
The man was intuitive.
As a physician, Beth was accustomed to being the one doing the reassuring, but somehow things had gotten turned around. Dan had told her everything was going to be all right, and she believed him. Believed him, though she’d missed her flight, her shoulder was probably sprained and she was headed to a destination unknown. Yet an unlikely peace had settled over her. How could that be?
Possibly the altitude.
“Okay,” Dan said as he pulled his gloves back on. “I’m going to get on first.” He inclined his head toward the snowmobile before smoothly sliding onto the machine.
On her second awkward attempt, Beth finally landed in the seat. She sat stiffly behind him.
“Put your arms around me,” he called over his shoulder. “And don’t let go.”
Don’t let go. Beth loosely wrapped her arms around his waist. Her helmet was inches from his back.
The engine revved and then the machine moved forward, propelling her backward with force.
Beth tightened her hold on Dan, gripping his jacket fiercely. She tucked her face behind his broad back, hiding from the stinging moisture of the rapidly falling snow.
Hypervigilant, Beth monitored the nuances of the engine and the man, adjusting herself to his movements. When he stood slightly and leaned forward as the snowmobile moved up an incline in the road, she did the same. They moved over the terrain, occasionally bouncing. Tension kept her rigid and silently praying that the machine wouldn’t capsize, and that the weather wouldn’t become severe enough to force them to stop.
Overhead, heavy gray clouds loomed ominously, while the wind chased them over an endless white vista.
As the minutes passed, Beth dared to relax, leaning back a tad to take in the snowy blur of the Colorado landscape. The air was crisp with the scent of pine and fresh snow. A small buzz of exhilaration thrummed through her as the wind rushed past, whipping her long hair into a frenzy.
Dan was right. Beth had lived all over, but “all over” looked like the same medical clinic and temporary housing in an endless stream of different cities.
Today’s adventure had made one thing clear. She hadn’t really experienced life at all.
Finally, the engine slowed and Dan signaled a left turn with his arm. Beth peeked around his shoulder, scanning the snowy horizon. The tension eased from her grip when she saw the hazy glow of lights ahead. Like a muted lighthouse beacon, they beckoned winter travelers up a long conifer-lined drive. Wherever they were, they had obviously arrived.
As they pulled up in front of a charming, two-story brick-and-clapboard house, Dan turned off the engine.
“We’re home,” he called over his shoulder.
Home? Beth released a nervous breath, along with a tiny smile of anticipation.
* * *
Thank You, Lord, for leading us home again to Gallagher Ranch.
Dan stared at the house for a moment, allowing the tension of the white-knuckle drive through the storm to slip from his body. The hundred-year-old farmhouse had weathered every storm the Sangre de Cristo Mountains had tossed its way. This particular system would be no exception. He came from a long line of Colorado pioneers and they had bred the same can-do spirit into him.
They knew how to handle winter in the mountains. There were backup generators, wood for the fireplace and enough canned goods to see them through six storms. Yeah, it was good to be home.
He got off the snowmobile and offered Beth a hand, easing her off the backseat.
Though her grip on his waist had been viselike, it was definitely not unpleasant to have her riding tandem. He’d expected the city girl would be a diva, but so far, well, she’d definitely proved him wrong.
Raising his arms overhead, Dan stretched his spine and then rotated his neck. “I’m going to open the garage,” he said. “Be right back.”
The echoing crunch of his boots as he crossed the yard filled the silence. Snow continued to fall like crystals into the night, but the pink glow of the mercury lights on the oversize storage building that served as a garage guided his way. He pulled open the big double doors, and they creaked in response. Inside, his mother’s mini pickup was parked next to his brother’s beat-up utility truck and the ranch ATV. Joe’s personal truck was in the corner, covered with a tarp, waiting for his return.
Dan maneuvered the snowmobile in, then grabbed Beth’s tote and the defibrillator. He plugged in the defibrillator to charge the machine before closing the garage door. Walking to Beth, he nodded toward the house.
The front walkway and the wooden porch steps had recently been shoveled and sprinkled with snow melt, though the precipitation was quickly re-accumulating. On the porch a battered red shovel stood neatly next to the door, along with his daughter’s small pink plastic shovel. Such an insignificant thing, but little Amy’s imprint on his life never failed to make Dan smile.
He turned to Beth, and placed a finger to his lips before slowly opening the screen, then the front door. The loud, discordant plunking and banging of a piano greeted them.
Dan pulled off his helmet and goggles. Beth did the same.
She whispered to him, “May I use your restroom? I need to change into dry pants.”
He pointed straight ahead. “First door on your left.”
“Why are we whispering?” she asked.
“I don’t want Millie to know we’re home.”
“Your daughter?”
“No, my dog.”
Her eyes rounded. “Oh.”
Beth slipped off her boots and put her helmet and goggles on the bright multicolored rag rug in front of the door. Taking her tote bag from Dan, she tiptoed down the hall.
He set his helmet next to hers and shut the door. The piano had stopped and the click of the door closing sounded in the room.
As if it had been a starting line gunshot, he prepared for the chaos to ensue. Barking erupted as Millie rushed from the back of the house to the front hall like a locomotive. Dan heard her well before he saw her. The lean black lab raced into the room, her nails clicking on the hardwood floor a minute before she leaped into the air and accosted him. Dan staggered back as the dog alternated between enthusiastic slobbering and mad barking.
“Down, Millie.” He rubbed the good-natured animal’s head and backside briskly. “Yeah, I missed you, too, girl.”
Millie released a loud whine in dogspeak as she moved her paws to the floor and pranced in joyous circles at her master’s return.
“Daddy, can we build a snowman?”
His six-year-old daughter waved a ruler through the air. Her round, gray eyes were serious as she peered up at him through oversize, red-framed plastic glasses minus the lenses. She’d been giving imaginary piano lessons to her dolls again.
“Not today, Pumpkin.” Dan tweaked an inky black braid and gently tossed it over her shoulder. “You’d get buried in this storm.”
“Tomorrow?”
“We’ll see.”
Amy didn’t miss a beat, launching into her next request. “Can I watch TV?”
“May I.” Elsie Gallagher bustled into the front entry, a basket of laundry in her arms. Her short black curls were peppered with gray and she wore her usual jeans and the sweatshirt du jour. Today’s boasted a large bumblebee and the words Bee Cool. His mother the trendsetter.
“May I?” Amy repeated. “I already did my spelling.”
“Joe called. He’s stuck in Denver,” Elsie continued. “He wants to be sure you’re keeping a close eye on those cows. Says they might calve early.”
“Big brother Joe thinks I’m a rookie. I already moved the cattle this morning. I’ll check on them again after I eat. Mom, I should tell you I—”
His explanation was cut off by the sound of a door closing. All heads turned to look behind them as Elizabeth Rogers walked down the hall.
Beth had fixed her helmet hair, and her caramel-colored tresses tumbled around her shoulders from a side part, framing her heart-shaped face. Her skin glowed from the outdoors. Objectively speaking, the woman was a complete knockout.
His mother’s jaw slackened, before she grinned as though she was privy to a huge secret.
And then Millie charged. “Whoa, whoa, Millie. No.” Dan barely managed to latch his hands onto the lab’s collar and hold her back. “Sit.”
Beth froze, blue eyes wide as Millie wriggled in a hearty attempt to properly greet their guest.
“Who are you?” Amy asked, her voice hushed and wondrous, as if she’d just stumbled upon a princess.
Dan couldn’t resist a smile. He’d have to agree with his daughter. Beth Rogers did look like a princess. She was the prettiest thing to walk in their front door in a very long time.
Confusion crossed Beth’s face as her gaze met his. “I’m Beth.”
“Why, Daniel Davis Gallagher, you brought home a guest.” His mother’s words registered her stunned surprise. She set the laundry basket on the floor and straightened her sweatshirt.
“I’ve brought guests home before,” Dan returned.
“Have you?” his mother replied.
“Do dogs count?” he asked.
Elsie laughed.
“Mom, this is Dr. Elizabeth Rogers. Beth, this is my mother, Elsie Gallagher, and this...is Pumpkin.”
“Daddy!”
“I mean Amy.” He grinned at his daughter.
“Rogers?” Elsie said. “Like Dr. Ben and Dr. Sara?”
Beth nodded. “Ben is my cousin.”
“You’re pretty,” Amy gushed. She pulled down her faux glasses for a better inspection as she inched toward Beth ever so slowly.
“Thank you,” Beth said. “I like your glasses.”
Amy smiled and tucked her face shyly into her shoulder.
Dan observed the interaction with interest.
“So how did you two meet?” his mother asked, her gaze moving from Dan to Beth, a knowing grin on her face.
He blinked and stepped back.
Oh, no.
No.
Surely his mother wasn’t going to go down that road. “Docs Rogers’s house. I offered to take Beth to Gunbarrel, but the storm derailed us.” He looked at his mom. “When did you say Joe was getting back?”
His mother chuckled, reading his mind as usual. “You’re out of luck, Danny boy.”
Maybe bringing Beth to the house wasn’t such a good idea, after all. His mother was a matchmaker. And she was good. Really good. She’d orchestrated his sisters’ romances straight to the altar.
Dan held his own when Joe was around. Joe was the oldest and he protected his little brother. He shook his head. The odds were distinctly not in his favor.
Beth stood in the hallway, biting her lip in concentration as she attempted to sort out the dynamics. Good luck with that. He chuckled. The Gallagher house was always a little eccentric and the hormone-charged atmosphere changed as quickly as the Colorado weather.
He observed Beth for a moment. Any other lifetime and he’d be tripping over himself to get to know someone like her. Smart, beautiful and brave. Obviously not without some issues of her own, but seemingly capable of handling them with humor and grace. Yet, for today at least, the bottom line remained the same. Elizabeth Rogers was a woman passing through Paradise. A city girl to boot.
Like Amy’s momma.
He and his mother were going to have to have a little chat, because he sure wasn’t going to step into the same cow patty twice in one lifetime.
