In Bed with the Rancher
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Sara Orwig
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15.6K
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12
One
Driving north on the back roads of Texas, Wade Sterling was trying to get away from a storm.
He’d been on the Gulf, fishing, when the weather had cut his trip short. He’d received warnings of violent storms developing farther out in the Gulf and heading toward the coast. He had docked near Corpus Christi and was now driving north. When he had a little more distance between him and the coast, he would turn east to get onto Interstate 45 North into Dallas.
He had called home and told his mother he was safely back on land and he would be home in a few days, maybe even a week. He had learned long ago to overestimate how long he’d be gone or she’d get worried. He suspected he would be caught in rain driving home, so the trip might take longer than usual.
Now, however, the forecast called for possible flooding. To keep his mind off the weather, he thought about things he needed to do when he got home. Before he drove to Bar S Ranch, he wanted to stop at his condo in Dallas. He needed to go by his office because he had real estate holdings he should check on and other business matters to attend to.
He and his rancher cousins, Cal Brand, Jake Reed and Luke Grayson, had all contributed money to build a new arena in Fort Worth to replace a popular old arena that had burned down. The city wanted a grand opening and he and his cousins needed to agree on a date. He should get with his cousins and get that date settled.
Sadness gripped him when he thought about his cousin, Cal. Cal had been a rancher, as the rest of them were, but he wanted life on the wild side, too. He had done undercover work for the government. He’d said two more years and he would retire to his ranch. When Wade contacted Cal about donating to build the new arena, Cal was enthusiastic and sent more than they’d planned, saying he was sure the builders would find a use for the money. Two months later, his family received word that Cal had died in an accident on the Atlantic Ocean. The surviving cousins attended the memorial service held by Cal’s family. Wade shook his head. He would miss Cal who was interesting, fun, and a good rancher.
Another of Wade’s cousins had had a sad event. It was two years ago when Luke’s wife and baby boy were killed in a car wreck. Luke no longer was as light-hearted as he had been before losing his family and Wade could understand why. It made him sad and he wondered if Luke would ever be the happy person he once was.
A deep rumble of thunder warned Wade he wasn’t going to beat the storm.
His thoughts shifted to getting home.
Which led to thoughts of Olivia, and his need to break things off with her.
Though she was beautiful and exciting to be with, she was getting too serious. He didn’t want to marry—not ever. Problem was, she did, and she made it obvious. Just the thought of marriage sent a chill down his spine. He never wanted to marry and risk having a kid like his twin. His identical twin. Identical in looks but not in temperament and personality. Not at all. Wynn had caused trouble as far back as Wade could remember.
Wade thought about the latest example. Last month, when he had stopped by his parents’ home and waited for their return from the grocer’s, their landline phone rang. He answered, in case it was a business call for his dad. Wade had just started to say “Sterling residence” when a woman’s frantic voice cut him off.
“Wynn, this is Violet,” she said in a nasal twang.
“I’m not Wynn. I’m—” was all he could get out before she interrupted him.
“Wynn, don’t lie to me. I recognize your voice. You listen to me.” Wade could hear the desperation in her tone as her words poured out louder and faster. “Your cell number has changed and I couldn’t find you. Don’t you dare hang up. We have a deal. You’ve been good about sending money, but it hasn’t come this month. I need it, so get it to me. I’ll keep my part of our bargain as long as you keep your promise and the money comes. I’ve stayed out of Dallas and no one knows about our child. If you want it to stay that way, get the money to me.”
Shocked, Wade forgot about telling her who he was.
“It’s in the mail, Violet,” he said instead and hung up. He had given an answer and cut her off in the manner that Wynn would have done. She might learn Wynn had a twin and she had talked to the wrong brother, but he didn’t think she would tell Wynn because she had given away his secret—Wynn had a child.
Stunned, Wade could imagine Wynn trying to hide the mother and the baby. Wynn’s tastes ran to gorgeous, sexy women, but he didn’t care if they were strippers in the worst nightclub in town or the cream of Dallas society. He always found the sexy beauties, but some of them he never took to meet the family. Violet, for one, he assumed.
He wondered about his folks not knowing their first grandchild. It might be just as well, and Wynn was paying regularly to bury the secret. He assumed Wynn had good reason to keep his baby a secret, so Wade would also, but it hurt to think there was a child out there that they’d never know and who would never know them.
He knew when his brother finally got around to marrying, it would be a dazzling beauty from a prominent, wealthy family. Someone like Olivia. Olivia would be a good match for Wynn because she could hold her own with him. Strong and bright, she would be a good influence on him.
For now, Wade would keep Wynn’s secret. Wynn was a dad—that alone was an incredible shock. Another shiver ran down his spine. He couldn’t imagine Wynn raising a child. He was still a child himself in many ways. But now he was a dad who probably had never even seen his own child. That wouldn’t surprise Wade at all.
Wade thought about his own situation. He didn’t want marriage or fatherhood at this point in his life, yet if he had a baby with a woman, he would want that child in his life. For just a moment he felt a pang and wondered if he would miss out on a lot by avoiding marriage. Then he had to laugh at himself. He didn’t even have a woman in his life, since he was about to part ways with Olivia.
He kept his eyes on the road and pressed on the accelerator, trying to beat out the pending storm. But he couldn’t outpace his thoughts. There was another problem, far more worrisome, on his mind. A few months ago his ranch foreman, Cotton Daniels, had told him that one of the cowboys was regularly receiving money from a man who drove to the ranch. Cotton happened to be taking out cedar trees when he saw the cowboy, Denny White, drive on a ranch road while a car came from the opposite direction and they parked facing each other. They didn’t see Cotton because he was in a thick stand of cedars and his four-wheeler was out of the way. Initially he’d just passed it off as a gambling debt or some such, except the men were acting so secretive. The next month, about the same time, he saw them again near the gate.
Wade couldn’t help but worry why someone was paying Denny.
Nor could he stop thinking this was another of the sneaky things Wynn was involved in. Wade had learned years earlier, if trouble occurred in his life, his twin was usually involved.
Throughout his life, Wade had never understood his twin’s jealousy or his anger if Wade got something and he didn’t. Wynn was their mother’s favorite of her four children and he made certain he stayed that way. She was the one person on Earth that Wynn seemed to care about and went out of his way to keep happy.
Wade shook his head and sighed. When he got back to Dallas, he was going to have to deal with Wynn. He doubted if Wynn had delt with Denny face-to-face, but he felt certain that Wynn was behind whatever Denny was getting paid to do. Now he had to worry about that as well as Wynn’s baby. His twin needed to tell the truth about his child. And he would have to wring out of Wynn if and what he was paying Denny to do. In the meantime he needed to give Cotton authority to fire Denny if he saw good reason. He trusted Cotton’s judgment completely.
A clap of thunder brought Wade’s attention back to his surroundings. The thunder rumbled ever closer. The bumpy county road had mesquite scattered on either side. To his left was a deep canyon with a creek at the bottom. It was a small stream, but in a storm, Wade knew how streams could become white-water rivers and flood the surrounding area. He didn’t want to get caught in a storm on a back road that was unknown terrain.
He hadn’t seen another vehicle since he left the coast. He didn’t have to worry about traffic, so he sped up, hoping to get to the next town before the storm hit. In minutes, the first big drops splashed on the windshield and then a gray sheet of blinding, torrential rain swept over his pickup.
Once, when he glanced in his rearview mirror at the sprays of water going up in his pickup’s wake, he thought he saw headlights in the distance behind him. The rain was too intense to be sure. He soon swooshed around a curve and a sea of water was in front of him. As the road dipped, he pumped his brakes, but it was too late to prevent driving into the water rushing over the road, and then he felt the pickup leave the road and he was floating, swept up by the water.
Frantically, Wade yanked off his coat. If he went into the water at the bottom of the canyon and had to swim, he didn’t want to be wearing a coat.
As thunder boomed and the first drops of rain fell, Ava Carter saw a pickup in the distance ahead. The drops turned into torrential rain and she could barely see anything except red taillights. Frowning, she pressed the accelerator, trying to narrow the distance. She rarely saw anyone on this back road in the area where she owned a cabin for an escape from her busy life in Dallas. She had been in Persimmon, the nearest small town, and had attempted to beat the storm back to her cabin, but she wasn’t going to do it.
In Persimmon, when she’d heard that the weatherman had updated his forecast for torrential rains, she’d grabbed what supplies she could and left for her cabin.
It had surprised her to see taillights ahead on the usually deserted back road. If that was a stranger, someone unfamiliar with the area, the driver needed to turn around, too, because in a downpour the road would be under water in minutes.
She wanted to catch up enough to flag the driver, but the rain was too intense.
A deluge of rain hid the pickup’s taillights from her view. She leaned on her horn, hoping that might make the person stop, but the rain and thunder probably drowned out the sound. Seconds later, she knew it was too late when the pickup vanished as the road turned in a sweeping curve. At that moment, another bolt of lightning illuminated the entire area and she saw water gush over the highway and the pickup wash off the road. As it went over the edge, still carried by the stream of water, a man jumped from the pickup, hit the ground and rolled down the incline, disappearing from her view. Carried by the rushing stream of water, the pickup crashed into a tree and was then swept around it, continuing down toward the raging creek.
Frightened for the man who jumped, she felt compelled to help him.
Ava pulled to the side of the road, leaving her lights blinking, even though she was certain no one else would happen along. She couldn’t drive away and leave someone lying on the steep slope to the creek in this terrible storm, which was predicted to get worse.
She jammed on a broad-brimmed Resistol hat and yanked on a rain slicker. With a deep breath, she stepped out and ran to the edge of the road, where she looked for the driver. Rain made it difficult to spot anyone, so she cautiously started down the slope that was becoming slippery and muddy where there weren’t weeds and high grass. Then she spotted the man sprawled on the ground, his fall evidently stopped by the low-lying branches of a cedar.
Soaked and chilled, she inched down the treacherous, steep slope. When she reached him, the stranger was lying still. As she thought about what to do, she kneeled beside him. To her relief, he stirred.
“Thank heavens, you’re conscious,” she said. Because of a blow to his head, a knot had popped out high on his brow at his hairline and his skin was already bruising. A deep cut across his shoulder bled even as rain washed over it. He didn’t have a jacket, just a torn shirt, jeans and boots.
Cold rain pounded them and nearby a tree crashed to earth, taking small trees with it and leaving thick roots sticking up in the air, reminding her to hurry.
“We need to get back to the road to my pickup.” She took his wrist to feel his pulse, which was strong. Then she reached out and pushed the tangled black hair off his face. When she brushed his face, his eyelids fluttered and she looked into brown eyes that suddenly held her attention as much as if he had reached out and touched her. Her gaze locked with his, caught and held as if in a trap. In spite of the raging storm, the world closed down to just the two of them. Her awareness of him rocked her and she could only stare at him, stunned.
She shouldn’t be feeling anything except the cold, drenching rain. Since her broken engagement to Judd Porter, she had been numb to men, not wanting to go out with any of them. Not even her male friends. Being around any man brought back the painful memories of Judd. So how, then, could this total stranger, with chilling rain pouring over both of them in a raging storm, captivate her and make her heart race?
A clap of thunder and then a sizzling lightning bolt brought her out of the brief daze and she realized every second they were out in the storm, their situation grew worse.
As if he, too, sensed the danger, the man sat up and she was relieved to see he could move.
“You’re sitting, so how’s your back?”
He shrugged and grimaced. “My back is okay. My head feels as if someone is pounding it with a hammer.”
“We need to get to my pickup. If I help you, can you get up? And do you think you can make it back up this hill?”
“Yes, I can,” he said as if there was no question about it.
“I have a cabin nearby. We have to get out of here before we get cut off by rising water. We can’t go back to the last town now. Trees are falling and there’s lightning. You’re on an isolated back road. An ambulance wouldn’t get here for an hour at best, and if the rain keeps up, an ambulance can’t get here at all. I doubt if we can even get phone reception here. We can still drive to my cabin, I think.” The whole time she talked, he gazed at her with such an intent look that her tingling response to him continued.
“Your cabin it is. Let’s get out of here if you know a way.”
“I do. It’s not good, but it’ll do. The weather predictions are getting worse.”
“I’m ready,” he said, standing without difficulty, and she realized he was fit and in good physical condition. She also noticed that he was tall, broad-shouldered and rather good-looking.
“Let me help you up the incline,” she said, stepping beside him.
“I’ll be okay,” he said, as she thought he would. His shirt was ripped where he had fallen and been cut, the tattered, soaked material clinging to a muscled chest and a torn sleeve revealing a strong bicep.
“You’ll have to look for your pickup later,” she said.
“At the moment, that’s not my worry.”
“No, it isn’t. We need to get to solid ground before some of this incline gives way and takes us down with it,” she said. “Let’s go.”
The climb was slippery, mud constantly making them lose their footing as they gradually neared the road.
Seconds later, there was a crack of tree limbs breaking and then another tall oak fell. He pushed her away from the tree and not even the tips of leaves touched them, but chunks of ground broke off and slid downhill.
She slipped and he stepped close to put his arm around her as she grabbed him. “Thanks. I’m glad that wasn’t your cut shoulder,” she said, holding her hat on her head as she looked up at him.
As they steadied, he gripped a tree branch with one hand while he held her close with the other, her hip pressed against him. She gazed at him. Wind battered them and a sheet of cold rain swept over them, but she barely noticed it. Even with his injuries, he was strong, holding her tightly while his body heat warmed her side where they were pressed together.
As she gazed into his brown eyes, another sizzle made her forget rain, cold, danger—everything else except his strong arm holding her, his warm body against hers and those eyes that captured and held her gaze. Dark brown eyes that changed her world. When she saw the slightest narrowing of his eyes, she knew he felt something, too. She figured this primitive urge they both had was stirred by the danger from the storm. As if to confirm her thoughts, another big tree snapped and cracked, toppling to the ground.
“Let’s get out of here,” she shouted with a deliberate effort to break the spell. His arm tightened around her waist and, together, grabbing nearby limbs, they climbed the remaining way to the road. She pointed to her pickup. “You wait here and I’ll come get you.”
With a shake of his head, he took her arm and started toward her pickup. “Let’s go.”
When they reached her vehicle, he released her. As soon as they both were inside, she retrieved a first-aid kit from the back seat and handed him a thick gauze pad.
“Hold this against your shoulder. You’re still losing blood.”
He took the pad from her and placed it over the jagged cut on his shoulder. As he did, he reached out to remove her hat and toss it into the back, then he turned to take a long, slow look at her that made her forget she was cold and rain-soaked. All she knew was that his attention was on her and she couldn’t get her breath.
“When I opened my eyes, you looked like an angel with your blond hair and blue eyes, but I don’t think angels wear cowboy hats.”
His voice was deep and he sat close while his dark brown eyes made her heart race. He had raked thick, wet black hair away from his face, but a few wavy locks had already slipped free to fall on his forehead. Regardless of his injuries and tattered, wet clothes, she felt another puzzling moment of heated, physical awareness. How could she feel intense awareness for a total stranger, and in these abominable circumstances?
She made an effort to break the eye contact and get her mind back on their situation, which grew more hazardous by the minute.
She cleared her throat and dug out her phone. “I’ll try to get info on the roads,” she said with a breathlessness that she hoped he didn’t notice. She focused on her phone for a moment and then shook her head and dropped her phone into a pocket of her jacket when she got no reception.
“My cabin is big, well-stocked and comfortable,” she said, starting the pickup and driving back the way she had come. “We’ll have to double back for a few miles to get there. If this downpour continues a lot longer, we may be stuck at my place until the storm is gone and water recedes. It’s remote and isolated out here. As you can see, there’s no cell-phone reception. No TV reception, either, so I don’t even have a TV at the cabin.”
“How many miles to your cabin?”
“About ten. There’s a road I can take and it’s on higher ground. It’s a back road the ranchers put in across private property, but it gives about five of us a way around the low places when we have these torrential downpours. There are two bad things about the road—it’s gravel and we have one creek to cross,” she said as they continued on.
“A gravel road is okay. I remember a narrow road and a sign—‘Keep Off. Private Property.’”
“That’s it.” She glanced at him because she noticed he was shifting and patting his pockets as he talked. “Is something wrong?”
Frowning, he looked at her. “I don’t have my wallet. I must have lost it rolling down the hill. We can’t go searching for it now,” he said.
“No, we can’t.”
“No telling where my pickup has gone.”
“There’s no finding that now, either,” she said, concentrating on her driving in the downpour. Thunder was loud and lightning lit up the area. “We need to get to my cabin before we’re cut off from any shelter. There aren’t many people who live out here.”
“So I noticed.”
“Yes, and it’s not a good place to be in a storm like this. From here to the gravel road will take about five more minutes and then it’ll be even slower traveling. We have one more bridge to cross.” Her brow creased as a thought occurred to her. “If we can’t get across that, I don’t think we can get back to Persimmon. I’m sure the old bridge to Persimmon is under water by now.” She shrugged it off. “Not to worry. If we can cross that last bridge, my cabin is on high ground. It’s never flooded.”
As she squinted through the rain-soaked windshield, she told him, “The road we’re on is such a back road, it’s seldom used even by those of us who live in this area. I have a close neighbor and we could go to his house, but he’s nearer to the creek and that’s probably already like a raging river. I wouldn’t feel safe in his house in this storm.”
She glanced at him. “How are you feeling?”
“My head is pounding, my shoulder still hurts and I’m thoroughly soaked. Otherwise, fair to middlin’, I’d say. Thank you again for stopping to pick me up.”
“Sure.”
He didn’t say anything else and she thought he might be tired of conversation and hurting. “Don’t go to sleep in case you have a concussion.”
“I don’t think staying awake will be a problem,” he remarked dryly and she wondered how much pain he was in. Or perhaps he was worrying about having lost his wallet and his pickup, which she suspected was downstream somewhere filled with water or smashed on rocks.
“I don’t have my phone, either,” he said.
“You can’t use it out here, anyway.” For a moment she was quiet. “I think it’s time we get introduced. I’m Ava Carter.”
“I’m glad to meet you, Ava Carter,” he said in a somber tone of voice.
They rode in silence and she wondered why he didn’t introduce himself. When she glanced at him, he had such a worried expression on his face, she put her foot on the brake and turned to him. “What’s wrong?”
“You don’t know me at all, yet you know something is wrong.”
She nodded. “You look concerned. Should I be worried about your identity?”
Shaking his head, he answered, “Well, yes and no, I don’t think so. But that’s just a feeling I have, because the problem is—” he hesitated only a moment as he stared at her “—I can’t tell you my name. I don’t know it. I can’t remember who I am or where I’m from.”
