Authors: Carolyne Aarsen
“Occasionally they let me ride in the helicopter.”
A smile parted her lips and her blue eyes sparkled, transforming her reserved expression. Dan was caught off guard when dimples appeared. Apparently Dr. Rogers's good humor had been restored.
He made a mental note not to annoy her again. They were in for a long day and he didn't need to be at odds with his passenger in the confining space of the truck cab. Besides, he liked it when she smiled. Elizabeth Rogers was easy on the eyes.
“Have we passed your place?” she asked.
“No, at the snail's pace we're going, it'll be a bit. I'm off the beaten path to the east. Small ranch at the base of the mountains.”
“You're a rancher, as well?” she asked.
“Not me. My brother. He runs about two hundred head of cattle.”
They rounded a bend in the road and Dan nodded toward the phone in her lap. “Why don't you check for signal strength again?”
Beth picked up her phone. “Yes. Got it.”
“Great. Use my phone.” He pulled a cell from his jacket pocket. “I have the sheriff's office on speed dial. Dispatch can connect you to the Gunbarrel Hotel.”
She shook her head. “It's a recording.”
“What's it say?”
“Call 9-1-1 if it's an emergency. Due to a heavy volume of calls, unable to...” Beth released a breath. “What now?”
“When is your flight?” he asked.
“It's not until two, but it's the last Alamosa-to-Denver flight until Monday. Then I still have to connect to New York.” Turning to the window, she hid her expression.
“You think they're going to hold a blizzard against you?”
“I think it's likely I won't get the position. They need a physician now, not later.”
“If you don't mind my asking, what's so important about a temp position?”
She looked at him. “This particular medical group auditions all candidates for their practice by allowing them to work as a locum tenens first. It's the only way you get in.”
“I take it the competition is stiff.”
“There were over one hundred applicants. In the end, only two of us were chosen. If either of us is a good match for their team we'll be offered a permanent job.”
“What's the catch?”
“The catch?”
“You could get a job anywhere. Why this practice? What makes it so special?”
“It's been my dream for as long as I can remember.”
“What? Big city and big bucks?” The words spilled out before he could consider how bitter he sounded for a man who thought he was long over his past.
When her eyes flashed, he knew he'd irritated her again.
So much for his good intentions
.
Before he could correct his misstep the truck began to vibrate with the fierce stuttering of the antilock brake system kicking in. Dan grabbed the wheel firmly. “Hold on. We're sliding.”
The big truck continued to skid right, until it suddenly fishtailed and changed direction.
They were both jolted sideways as metal scraped against metal, the sound raw and screeching as the vehicle crashed through a guardrail and headed straight for an enormous conifer.
“Lord,” he said beneath his breath. “We could use a little help.”
Bracing himself, Dan again instinctively shot an arm out to protect his passenger from hitting the dash. He effectively held her shoulders back against the leather seat.
Time was suspended as the truck was shoved against the tree, which struck the left front tire and bumper before settling against the driver's side door.
The pickup shifted and finally was still.
The only sounds were the swish of the wipers and their ragged breathing.
* * *
“Are you okay?” Dan finally asked.
“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
B
eth 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 canâ”
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 soundârich, deep and warmâcaught 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.