She was late, she was lost, and she was worried out of her mind about Megan.
Back and shoulders aching from battling heavy winds and a winter storm over unfamiliar mountain roads, Lindy knew she couldn't go on much longer. The last few miles, she hadn't been sure she'd get even this far. This part of Northern California was the back of beyond.
She rounded another sharp corner and saw buildings, dark and forlorn, but as she watched, a dim light appeared at a gas station. Thank God! She urged the big car on. It responded immediately, and then, just as quickly, went into a skid. Taking her foot off the accelerator, she let the car slow and straighten out before she tapped the brake. After all the torturous bends and curves she'd been through, she should know better.
The light grew brighter. She peered through the rain-scrubbed windshield and swung the rental car into the station, parking as close as she could to the building. Water cascaded from overhanging tree branches over the top of the car, louder now with the motor off. For a moment, she sat still, feeling weariness lay claim to muscles not already cramped by the long drive. She closed her eyes and rubbed her temples, massaging away the tension headache.
After a moment, she picked up her cellular phone and pressed the numbers again. Megan hadn't answered any of her earlier calls, but she should be within range now, storm or no storm. Lindy waited eagerly to hear Megan's lilting "hello" on the other end, but there was no response. She checked her voice mail, but still there was no message from Megan. Damn!
When she'd asked for directions to their cabin, Megan had assured her that Jerry would come down and lead the way. Now she'd have to find them on her own. Once she found out where she was.
A flicker of movement, a flash of yellow, caught her eye. There was someone leaving the building. Maybe whoever it was could give her directions.
She rolled down the window to call out and got a face full of rain as the wind whipped away her words. Quickly, she raised the window, then pushed open the door and eased out from under the wheel. The rain-lashed wind whipped around her, lifting the hem of her raincoat, drenching her stockinged knees and legs.
She bunched her collar closer over the silk ascot at her throat, held onto her hat with the other hand, hunched her shoulders and ran.
Right into a solid object. She stopped short. The air whooshed out of her.
"Easy does it!" A pair of gloved hands gripped her forearms and steadied her on her feet.
"Oh! I'm sorry." Lindy lifted her head to see whom she'd crashed into. "Are you all right?"
The rain drummed on her unsheltered face but went unnoticed as she stared at the mountain in yellow rubber. Standing next to him, she felt dwarfed. At five eight, she'd always considered herself tall, and she'd never been thin, but he made her feel positively petite.
Disbelieving, she started at her own eye level, and then up, eyes widening, beyond the big muscular chest, the salt and pepper beard and mustache, up to lively green eyes that stared right back at her. A black curl escaped his red woolen ski hat under the hood of the slicker. The beginnings of a smile played on his lips.
Ohmigod. Paul Bunyan.
Amused at the image flitting through her mind, she returned his smile. Her gaze flickered lower, past broad shoulders and solid torso, beyond the long legs in yellow rain pants and settled on the big, high-top work boots.
"Okay now?" he asked. "Bad time to be out of doors."
"I'm fine." She drew back a pace. "Sorry about running into you like that."
"No problem." He glanced at her car then back at her. "What are you doing out in this weather?"
She wiped the water from her eyes with a tissue from her pocket. The rain pelted her again. With a shrug, she replaced the sodden tissue. "Looking for Burl."
He sounded puzzled. "You found it. Why?"
"Oh, thank God. Can you tell me how to get to--"
"You'd better come in out of the rain."
Lindy frowned at the delay, then shivered. A cold, wet trickle ran down her back and pooled at her waistline as she dashed inside. He followed her in, taking up too much space in the miniature office area.
Lindy edged away, putting the width of a narrow counter between them. Now that she could see him better in the shadowy light, she saw he was undeniably attractive in a rough, rugged way. He wasn't LA chic, but whatever he was, it looked good on him. She dragged her gaze away when he studied her just as curiously. "My cell phone isn't working. Do you suppose I could use this one?"
"Land line?" When she nodded, he added, "Won't do you any good. Power's out. Lines are down."
"But the lights are on."
"Generator."
"Oh." Lindy blinked. "When will the phone be fixed?"
He shrugged. "Hard to tell--probably not as long as the storm lasts. Could be a coupla days, a week, who knows?"
"A week?" Lindy's voice rose. How could she do without her lifeline to civilization for that long? That is, presuming she did find Jerry and Megan and they didn't all drown in this rain. "Can you tell me how to get to Hidden Gulch Road?"
He turned to a tattered map pinned up on one wall and pointed out a red dotted line that snaked away from a narrow black one. Lindy followed his finger tracing the road. Even at the best of times, she'd be reluctant to drive a road that twisty. And tonight?
"Road's all but closed. You won't get twenty feet up it."
She bit her lip. "I have to."
"Why?"
"Some friends are expecting me." She made an effort to overcome the way her voice shook. "They'll be worried if I don't show up. Jerry was supposed to come down and get me, but if I can't get them on the phone--"
"Bad time to come visiting."
Lord knows, she'd meant to come long before this, but one thing or another had gotten in the way. There always seemed to be one more crisis to handle. And then the trouble with Brad, and the chaos that he had caused. She supposed dissolving both a marriage and a shared business was nothing unusual, but it took so much time. And it hurt. She sighed, wishing so many things could have been different. "Can't be helped. Babies come when they're ready."
He slanted a quick glance at her middle.
"Not me. My friend."
"Hold on a moment." He zipped up the top to his yellow rain suit, settled the hood over his head and went out the door. Lindy peered through the smeared glass and watched him walk to a truck parked by some pumps. A hose snaked from one to a tank in the pickup bed.
Even though the truck stood high off the ground on oversized tires, he wasn't dwarfed by it. To the contrary, he looked the right size to take on just about anything. Entertained by the quick fancy of seeing him wrestle the truck and win, she watched him check the gauge on the pump and replace the nozzle.
When he came back to the office, she didn't merely see him enter. His presence seemed to swell to fill the small space. Every inch of space was filled with him, with the smell of rain and wet rubber.
Acutely aware of his green eyes taking in every detail of her raincoat and the silk scarf she'd chosen to match the blue-gray of her eyes and her carefully maintained ash-blonde hair, Lindy put her hand at her throat and fiddled with the knot. There was no denying his interest. Nor, surprising her no end, his appeal. She watched his gaze hover on her eyes, then lower to her mouth, and resisted the urge to lick her lips.
"I'm Hank Abbott," he said. "So you need to get up Hidden Gulch to see your friend who's having a baby."
It took her a minute to nod. "My friends are counting on me. I didn't realize it would take so long to get here, and of course, the weather slowed me down--"
"From where?" he asked abruptly.
She paused. "I flew into San Francisco. Look, I really have to find my friends. They'll be worried about me."
His green eyes narrowed. "You drove here through the storm? From the city?"
Lindy nodded, distracted by the small flecks of brown that made his eyes look like the forests she'd driven through to get here. All that wilderness had made her uneasy. She felt more at home with sidewalks, skyscrapers and working telephones.
His well-defined lips narrowed in censure as he stared down at her, then his voice roughened. "Lady, are you out of your mind? Didn't you listen to the weather report?"
Lindy bridled. "I did--"
"Didn't you hear the warnings to stay off the roads?"
She swallowed a quick retort. This was not the time to argue. She had no defense other than the overwhelming need to get to Megan, and that wasn't any of his business. All she wanted to do was make sure Megan was all right. Then she'd get out of her wet things, sit in front of a fire and get warm. "I have to get to my friend," she repeated. "She'll be worried about me."
"Lady, you can't drive up there tonight."
"I'll drive carefully," she promised though she dreaded the drive. "Can you just point me in the right direction?"
"You'll get lost." He hesitated. "Look, if it's so important, I'll take you to your friends."
"Oh, no, I couldn't! I mean, I'm sure I can find the way myself."
"You won't."
She narrowed her eyes at his blunt assessment. "How are you going to get up there if I can't?"
"Ever hear of four-wheel drive?" He pointed at his truck, standing solid and sturdy in the sheeting rain.
"If you wouldn't mind leading the way, I could follow you up."
"Lady, a car isn't going to make it. It's with me or nothing."
"Stop calling me lady!"
"I introduced myself," he reminded her. "You didn't."
She closed her eyes. Took a deep breath. "I'm Lindy Hollis."
The mountain man stuck out a hand the size of a catcher's mitt and caught up her gloved hand. Through the various layers of leather and wool, Lindy felt his strength and body heat. The promise of warmth made her hang on past the point of politeness. He didn't seem to be any too ready to let go of her, either, but at last she pulled her hand back.
"If you want to find your friends, I'm the only way you're going to do it."
She shifted her weight from foot to foot. Her toes felt like ice. "I'll manage."
"Look. If you thought the road into Burl was bad, wait until you see this one. It's steep, got a lot of sharp switchbacks. It's unpaved. By now, there'll be a river of mud coming down it."
She shivered again. He had a point. If anyone should know the local roads, it would be a local. Still?
"You're going to have to trust me."
Trust? The very idea left a sour taste in her mouth. She'd learned first hand that trusting left her wide open to betrayal and heartbreak. And this man wanted her to trust him. Trust a complete stranger? No way.
"Let's get going. If you're going."
He was everything she didn't like in a man--too big, too bulky, too many muscles bunching under the yellow rain suit--too sure of himself. He had a beard. He grinned too much, showing white, even teeth.
She'd be a crazy fool to consider going anywhere alone with him, but something kept her from refusing his offer. He seemed genuine and reliable, and deep inside her, inexplicable interest stirred, but looks were deceptive. Could she rely on her instincts about him?
She'd be an idiot to get in that truck!
If she didn't go with him, how was she going to get to Megan?
If the phones were working, Megan would be calling the Highway Patrol and all the hospitals looking for her. With the lines down, Megan must be getting frantic when she needed to be calm. She was classified a high-risk pregnancy, which made it all the more urgent that Lindy get there before Megan made herself sick with worry.
Lindy studied Hank's face, noting the reassuring smile playing on his lips, the way he looked at her openly, as if he returned her curiosity. Could she depend on that spurt of warmth she felt towards him--would it be pushing it to call it confidence? Desperation was more like it, Lindy thought wryly. Like it or not, he was the only chance she had to get to Megan.
She took a deep breath. "All right."
)
