Wife for a Day (15 page)

 

Jack spent the next hour navigating mainly by watching the plow markers along the right side of the road, and just when he thought he should follow Sam's suggestion of pulling over and waiting out the storm, the sun
slipped through a hole in the clouds and shone down on the snow.

Although the prairie was blanketed in white, tomorrow brown grass and dirt would probably peek through the snow, and in a month or two the land would be green again. There'd be wildflowers and blue skies overhead. He looked at the wide-eyed awe on Sam's face, and wondered if she'd like seeing the changes from day to day, from season to season.

A hawk soared through the sky, landing atop a wooden post. Jack rarely took nature for granted, but Sam's delight gave him a newfound appreciation for the country.

“Is that a bald eagle?” she asked.

“A red-tailed hawk. Watching for a meal, I imagine.”

She leaned forward, folding her arms on top the dash as she watched the scenery passing by. She had an endless number of questions about the sprinkler irrigation wheels stretching out across endless fields, a broken-down wagon and a leaning one-room cabin that had been abandoned sixty or seventy years ago. She asked about crops, and feed for the cows, and how deep the snow got in the middle of winter.

“Is that an Appaloosa?” she asked, her gaze aimed at a leopard-spotted mare.

He nodded, and pointed out another standing on a distant rise. “The brown one over there with spots only on its rump is an Appaloosa, too.”

“They're wonderful.” She leaned back in the seat and smiled. “I can see why you love it here, Jack.”

“Can you?”

“Of course. It's beautiful.”

“An awful lot of people come to Wyoming thinking they'll love it, but the winters and the isolation usually drive them away. I've heard people complain that it's too damn flat, that there's nothing to see.”

“They've got their eyes closed then.”

“I feel that way, too. Of course, I didn't always appreciate the wide-open spaces. I remember wondering why no one ever planted trees around our place. When I got a little older I figured it out.”

“Care to tell me?”

“All trees do is block your view of the sunrises and sunsets. As for the mountains, they keep you from seeing forever.”

“You sound like a poet.”

He laughed. “I just know what I like.”

She grew quiet once more, but it wasn't the kind of silence that builds walls between two people. Instead they seemed to grow closer.
She smiled, and he couldn't help but smile back.

When she shivered, he reached across the seat and turned up the collar on her coat. “You know, Sam, you'd be a lot warmer if you'd sit next to me.”

“I'm just fine over here.”

“The wind and snow's been beating against that side of the truck for the past two hours. Your nose is red and so are your cheeks. I'm not asking you to go to bed with me, Sam. I'm just asking you to sit close and get warm.”

She bit her lip as if contemplating his offer. Finally, she popped her seat belt, moved her tote bag from the center of the seat, scooted close, and buckled up again. For the longest time she held her hands in her lap or in front of the heater, but when he put an arm around her shoulders, he watched the fingers of her left hand hesitantly inch across his thigh.

It amazed him how such a simple gesture could make him feel so damn good.

They weren't quite half an hour from the house when the wind picked up again, harder and faster than before. Jack could feel it slamming against the truck, trying to take control. The snow lifted from the ground and shifted and swirled across the road.

Sam's hand tightened on his thigh. He wanted nothing more than to hold her and let
her know everything was going to be all right, but he needed both hands on the wheel.

“We aren't going to die, are we?”

“Not today.”

“Good, because my life flashed before me on the plane, and there's some stuff I don't want to revisit again, not this soon, anyway.”

He laughed, and tried to take her mind off her fear. “Have you ever ridden a horse?”

“No. I auditioned for a part in a Western once. The casting director told me I didn't get the job because I tried mounting the horse from the wrong side, but I think he was just being nice.” She turned toward him. “Mind if I tell you something I've never told anyone before?”

“You're gonna tell me a secret?”

She nodded. “I was a lousy actress, Jack. I tried, but too many people told me I tried too hard. I could play a corpse without any trouble because I didn't have any lines, but stick somebody else's words in my mouth, and they'd come out all wrong.”

He glanced quickly at her mouth. It was perfect, and so were the words she spoke. He was glad she wasn't an actress any longer. Glad she hadn't been in Hollywood when he'd been in Palm Beach. Glad she'd tried tailoring for a few months, and needed money so desper
ately that she'd agreed to play along with his foolish charade.

When he got home, he thought he might send a letter to the airline thanking them for losing his luggage a few weeks ago.

Right now, he wanted to protect her from harm, and he was so damn afraid he wasn't going to be able to.

A wall of solid white slipped in front of the truck without warning, and visibility dropped to zero. Jack touched the brakes slowly, evenly, but he'd already hit black ice and the truck spun out of control. Beside him he heard Sam's gasp. He felt her fingers dig into the side of his leg. And he threw an arm in front of her, instinctively needing to keep her safe.

An instant later he felt a jarring impact, and heard Sam's deafening scream.

T
he truck rested
at a precarious angle, forcing Sam's body against Jack's. He could feel her heart beat, could hear her breathing, and relief flooded through him. “Are you okay?” he asked, dragging her into his arms, feeling her shaking inside.

“I think so.” She drew in a deep, tremulous breath, and clamped a hand above her breasts. “I feel like something hit me.”

“My arm. I was afraid you'd fly through the windshield.”

She smiled softly, gently massaging her chest. “Thank you.”

“You're welcome.”

“What about you?” she asked. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” Except for being scared for her safety and mad at himself for attempting the
drive home in bad weather, although he kept those thoughts to himself.

He wiped a gloved hand over the driver's side window, but all he could see was snow. He saw nothing but white through the other windows, too. “I think we might have run into a ditch, but I'm not sure.”

“Are we going to be okay?”

“I told you I'd take care of you. I try to keep my promises.”

It was far too cold to be outside, and he knew they should stay in the truck until the blizzard cleared, but he had to get Sam away from the pickup until he was sure it was safe.

He pulled the handle on his door and it jerked from his hand, smashing against a bank of snow, leaving an opening of not much more than eighteen inches.

“You're not getting out of the truck, are you?” Sam asked.

“We're both getting out.”

“We'll freeze outside.”

And if there was a gas leak, if the truck caught on fire, she could die. That's what had happened to Beth, and he couldn't bear the thought of living through something like that again.

“I've got to check out the truck, make sure everything's all right.”

“Okay, you do that. I'll stay right here and keep warm.”

He didn't want to frighten her, but he had to get her out of the cab. He uncinched her seat belt, and she slid even closer to his body—if that was possible. “You're getting out, Sam. Whether you want to or not.”

She sighed, but she didn't argue.

Holding on to the steering wheel and bracing one boot against the door so he wouldn't slide completely off the seat, he popped his shoulder harness. His torso slipped a few inches and Sam moved right along with him, as if they were connected.

He managed to get his feet and legs out of the truck and onto the snow-covered bank, and then he maneuvered the rest of the way through the tight opening. With one arm around Sam's waist, he pulled her out behind him, holding her close when they were on firm ground. Then he scooped her up in his arms.

“What are you doing?”

“Getting you away from the truck.”

“I can walk,” she protested

“I know. I've watched you.” He winked. “You've got a great walk, Sam.”

Slowly her frown transformed into a smile. “Thanks.”

They were a good thirty feet from the truck when the pelting wind and snow gentled, and
a hazy sunlight appeared through the clouds. For the past five minutes he'd been repeating a silent prayer for the snow to stop, and it looked like God had been listening. The reprieve wasn't something he could take for granted, though. He'd lived on the prairie all his life and knew the storm could kick up again without warning.

He set Sam down in the base of the ditch. “Are you sure you're okay?”

“I'm fine. A little cold, that's all.”

“I've got to go back and see if I can figure out what we hit, then I'm going to see if I can get the truck out of the ditch. Wait here.”

“I'd rather go with you.”

“I'd feel better if you'd stay. Please.”

“Okay, but don't be long.”

He took a few steps, then turned back. Her red hair was nearly white with snow. The freckles bridging her nose and cheeks blended with the redness of her skin. Her teeth were chattering—and she had to be the most beautiful creature he'd ever seen.

“Is something wrong?” she asked.

“No. I just forgot something important.”

“What?”

He curled a gloved hand around the back of her head, and then he kissed her, hard, real hard. He could have lingered, he could have spent the next few hours kissing her, but, un
fortunately, he had other things to deal with now. He tore his lips away and pressed his cheek against hers. “I'm glad you're okay,” he whispered into her ear. “Real glad.”

He brushed a quick kiss across her mouth, then rushed toward the truck.

Jack's kiss had stunned her. She hadn't expected it at all. Sam had been storing memories of Jack's kisses so she could think about them in the future. They weren't leading to anything lasting, but the best parts of her life—her mama and Syd—had been short-lived, too. Still, she kept memories of them close to her heart.

She watched Jack near the truck. He got down on his hands and knees and looked underneath, he walked to the front, disappeared from sight for a minute, and finally she saw him reappear on the other side.

“It's okay,” he called out to her. “You can get back inside now, if you want.”

Walking toward him, she maneuvered cautiously through the mud and snow, with Jack watching her every move. There'd been so much fear in his eyes when he'd hurried her out of the truck. She knew he was thinking about his girlfriend, and the accident that had happened long ago.
She died because I couldn't get her out of the car
, he'd told her. And he'd
made sure the same thing didn't happen to her.

She tucked that memory away, too. Jack Remington didn't know it, but gestures like that were redeeming him in her eyes. She still didn't think the charade was right, but he was doing it for what he thought were all the right reasons.

How could she fault him for that?

“Did you figure out what we hit?” she asked, when she neared the bed of the truck.

“A cow.”

“Is she dead?”

He nodded. “Her calf's okay. Half-frozen, but she'll live.” He brushed a strand of damp, windblown hair from her cheek, and she felt her toes tingle from the gentleness of his touch. “Feel like playing mother for a while?”

“What?”

“I have to mend the fence before another cow wanders onto the road, and I need you to take care of the calf.”

Sam was uncomfortable with the idea, until the bedraggled black calf walked around the side of the truck. The wobbly-legged baby headed straight toward her, and some kind of motherly instinct Sam didn't even know she possessed took over. Bending down, she wrapped her arms around the calf. “Don't worry, little one. We'll take care of you.”

If there'd been time, Jack would have stood forever watching Sam cuddling that calf, but right now he had to get the truck out of the ditch, had to get Sam inside where it was warm, and head for home before Lauren got worried and sent someone out to search for them.

Leading Sam to higher ground, he left her there with the calf while he carefully backed the truck away from the dead heifer and out of the ditch. Five minutes later he was on the icy road. He pulled over to the shoulder, left the truck running with the heat turned on full blast, and went back for Sam.

He lifted the calf in his arms and followed Sam back to the truck, unable to take his eyes off the seductive sway she maintained even through the snow.

“There's a blanket under the backseat,” he told her, when they reached the truck. “Can you get it?”

She climbed into the cab and, kneeling on the passenger seat, leaned over the back. Jack's heart slammed against his chest as he watched her skirt slide up her thighs. God, her legs were long. And shapely. And he wanted to run his hands over every sexy inch.

“I've got it,” she hollered, grabbing the back of her skirt and pulling it down as she twisted around in the seat. She covered her curves and
bare legs with the blanket. Probably just as well, he decided. She'd told him she was heading for home in a few days, and he didn't doubt her words. But he had plans to change her mind. He had to do it slowly though. The last thing he wanted to do was scare her off.

He slipped the calf into Sam's outstretched arms, and she wrapped the edges of the blanket around the struggling calf. “Do you have anything else we can put around her?”

He stripped out of his coat.

“You can't do that, Jack. You'll freeze.”

“It's not that cold out here,” he lied, spreading his jacket over wet fur. “Besides, the coat will just get in the way while I fix the fence.”

“Will it take long?” she asked.

“A few minutes. I'll go as fast as I can.”

She smiled. “Don't worry about us. My mama used to sing me lullabies. I thought this little one might enjoy one or two.”

A lump formed in his throat as he closed the door, and through the window watched Sam stroke the newborn's head and neck, looking like she'd spent a lifetime on a ranch. In spite of the snow, in spite of the cold and wind, she seemed happy to be sitting in the middle of nowhere with a motherless calf in her arms.

He didn't think it was possible, not after
years of failed relationships, but he thought he might have just fallen in love.

As promised, Jack didn't take long fixing the fence. When he climbed into the cab, Sam thought for sure the temperature warmed a good ten degrees. That was a dangerous feeling, and she knew it.

Oh, Mama. I'm starting to like him far too much, and I don't know how to stop
.

They were on the road in minutes, the tires whining on the icy pavement. Except for Jack calling Crosby to tell him they were on the way, he drove quietly, obviously deep in thought. She continued to hum, stroking the calf's soft, cool fur, and wished she knew what Jack was thinking.

“Are we almost there?” she asked, when they turned off the highway onto a slushy road.

“Another fifteen minutes or so.”

“Your ranch is in the middle of nowhere, isn't it?”

“We've been on the ranch for over an hour,” he stated. “The house is in the middle of nowhere.” He looked at her and winked. “That's the way I like it.”

“Pretty big place, huh?”

“Big enough.”

“Do you ever get lonely?”

“Not often. I've got family and friends who keep that from happening.”

Family
. It was important to him, so important that he'd concocted a charade to keep his sister happy.

She stared out the window at the first hint of moonlight shining on the snow, at the long shadows cast by fence posts and scrub grass. She wasn't part of his family. She was someone he'd hired. Oh, he might be enjoying their kisses, but that rich man in Palm Beach had enjoyed her mama's kisses, too, right before he told her she didn't fit into his world—and left her in tears.

She looked at Jack, at his ruggedly handsome profile, and she knew she had to get away soon, before he broke her heart.