by Debra Holt
The truck pulled beside the driver’s side of the car, leaving enough room for the doors to open and allow him room to maneuver between them. With a movement of his hand, he indicated she needed to unlock her door. Once opened, he leaned in and motioned for her to hand over the two small bags and their purses. With quick steps, he secured them in the back seat of his truck and soon returned. “The water is cold and getting deeper. I’ll carry you over to the truck. Who’s first?”
Annie turned to Jessie. “Crawl over me and you go first. Be quick. It’s okay.” She reassured the girl with a smile she was far from feeling.
Jessie moved, hesitantly at first, until the man could get a hold on her and then she was lifted quickly into his arms and carried to the large truck, disappearing into the back seat, the door closing behind her. Her small face appeared at the fog-smeared window.
Within a matter of moments, he had returned. Two arms reached out for her next, and Annie raised hers and slid them over a pair of solid, broad shoulders, linking her hands around a strong column of a neck. Automatically, with the sting of rain hitting, she buried her face as best she could against a wet shoulder. Reaching the truck, he swung her around to enable her to slide onto the seat just as a loud clap of thunder shook the ground again and lightning lit up the skies, turning the darkness into an almost eerie silver-edged daylight. Annie’s face came up, and her gaze widened in her face as she looked up into the face just inches from hers.
Darkness filled the eyes set in a strong face of high cheekbones, straight nose, and a squared chin as his gaze bore into hers, equally assessing of her, quietly watchful. Another streak of lightning came, and she saw the scar that arced from just above his right eyebrow downward to disappear into the hair above his ear. It was maybe pencil-width and jagged. Moving her eyes away from it in a self-conscious sweep, she caught the look in his eyes at that moment, the sardonic twist of his mouth. He dropped her onto the seat and stepped back, his hand going to the door of the truck.
“Don’t worry.” The door shut between them. She could see him step back to her car, securing the doors.
“Who is he, Annie?” The small whisper came from the back seat. “Did you see his face? How do you suppose that happened? Maybe a fight?”
“Shhhhh,” Annie responded, gathering her own composure. “It’s not the outside of someone that matters, remember? It’s none of our business, either. All we need to know about him is that he’s helping us when he doesn’t actually have to do so.”
“You’re right. I just wish we could go home.” The wistful voice faded into the back seat.
“So do I, honey… So do I.” Annie whispered the words to herself more than to anyone else. Except, she knew there was no home left to go back to…and none yet in front of them.
Chapter Two
Annie was grateful that the truck’s heater functioned much better than the one in her aged car. As her gaze took in their new environment, it became evident cowboys did quite well for themselves in this area of Texas, judging by the luxurious leather interior with its myriad of buttons and glowing screens along the dash. The double-cab truck appeared to be top of the line.
However, it gave her no real insight into the man who navigated their slow pace through the storm and rising water on the roadway. Large hands, in control of the steering wheel, were gloved so she couldn’t tell if he was married or not. Somehow, she had an idea that he wasn’t. There was something untamed about him, a roughness around the edges that might not be so sharp if a loving wife was in the picture.
“We should introduce ourselves,” she began. A quick glance over her shoulder told her that Jessie had fallen asleep in the warmth and comfort of the back seat. Annie envied her that ability. She also wished for a pillow and a long, dreamless sleep for herself…something she hadn’t experienced in a terribly long time. First things, first. “I’m Annie Sims. That’s my sister, Jessie, asleep in your back seat. We’re very grateful you came along.”
The shadowed gaze briefly swung to her. There was no responding smile. “Truitt.” One word and his attention returned to the road.
“Nice to meet you,” she said. Just Truitt. Silence fell around them again. With the storm raging outside, darkness surrounding them, it felt as if they were the only two people in the shrinking cocoon of the vehicle. Annie noted with some amazement, that she no longer felt the ever-present sense of apprehension. An odd and unexpected feeling of security began to seep in to her awareness. It was a feeling that had become almost alien to her over the last few weeks, yet here it was again, in the company of a total stranger somewhere on a back road in Texas.
She slid another glance to her silent companion in the front seat. His face was in the shadows of his hat, yet there was a presence about his whole being that lent itself to a nonverbal warning to anyone who might want to do harm. For just a few minutes, she would allow herself the luxury of giving up her constant vigilance and allow him to take the watch. Her body melted against the deep cushions, and the softness of the leather seeped into her tiredness. Annie allowed her eyes to close. Just a few moments. What would it hurt?
The silence of the truck’s engine filtered into her mind first, followed by the lack of movement beneath her. Annie fought to open her eyes, but they felt as if they weighed a ton. The door beside her was opening, and she looked up to see the tall cowboy standing there, his hand extended toward her. Was she dreaming? With some effort, she reached out and placed her palm inside his. An instant surge of calming warmth surged upward along her arm and throughout her body. That did serve to open her eyes wider and her gaze flew to his. She caught a swift flare of something in the dark blue orbs looking back at her, and she saw a hard clenching of his jawline. Had she done something wrong? His other hand slid to her elbow, and he turned from her, his gaze intent on the figure moving from the house to stand at the top of the steps. Annie looked to see the person who claimed his attention.
The porch light behind her cast the slender, tall woman in silhouette. “Good heavens, Truitt! Get the poor dears inside and out of this mess.” Her voice sounded muffled, yet pleasant to Annie’s ears. She just wished the pounding would stop in her head, but it seemed to grow louder with each step she took from the truck. It felt like any second her head might spin off her shoulders. Jessie had left the back seat and slid protectively under Annie’s free arm as they topped the steps. Annie had to stop and take a breath. She had no idea where the feeling of being as weak as a kitten had suddenly come from, but her lungs burned with fire along with each breath she tried to draw inward from the simple exertion.
“These two ladies got their car stuck on the road a few miles back. When the storm clears, I’ll take a couple of men and retrieve it. In the meantime, they need a dry place to wait it out.” Truitt’s voice seemed to waver and not be as clear as Annie recalled. She blinked a couple of times to clear vision that had clouded all of a sudden. There was a strange sensation crawling up the back of her neck, and she felt her knees buckle as she tried to scream out. Darkness met her just before she crumpled into a pair of rock-hard arms.
*
“Welcome back, young lady. How do you feel after your nice long nap?”
The comforting voice filtered through to Annie’s brain at the same time as an unfamiliar room took shape through eyelids that wavered between closed and partially open.
“Trite but true… I feel like a freight train ran over my whole body.” The words were just above a croak as her mouth felt dry as cotton and her throat was not much better. Every bone in her body ached, and it took supreme effort to move her hand from beneath her cheek. Very slowly she turned her head on the pillow, taking in the surroundings as they moved into focus.
She was in a large four-poster bed under what felt like a mound of the softest, warmest quilts possible. A matching wood-carved dresser and towering armoire were to her left, and to the right, she could see three wide French doors and a couple of overstuffed, comfy-looking chairs in a soft rose, blue,
and yellow print. If she were in a better frame of mind, she would admire it more. A trio of bright, floral watercolors were hung on the cream walls.
The woman who had spoken to her sat in the chair closest to her bed, a look of genuine concern in the light blue eyes which almost matched the shade of her silk blouse. Her silver hair was cut in a becoming jaw-length bob, and she wore a white turtleneck beneath the open blouse, accompanied by a pair of jeans. Doe-skin moccasins covered feet resting on the thick cream carpet. Annie recognized the familiar faint scent of expensive cologne. Her mother had worn the same…once upon a time. That memory brought one more pain she didn’t need. Annie tried to leverage herself up on the pillows, but the effort was too much.
“Here, let me plump the pillows for you, dear. You’ll probably feel as wobbly as a newborn colt standing for the first time…at least for a little while.” The woman moved to adjust the pillows, being ever so gentle in her movements. Once they were done to Annie’s satisfaction, she resumed her seat.
“I’m sorry,” Annie began, trying to clear her throat. “I don’t know what happened or even where I am, and where’s my sister? Where’s Jessie?” Her voice rose on the last question as panic seeped into her growing consciousness.
“Now, now,” the woman responded in a soothing voice, leaning in and lightly patting Annie’s hand as it lay on top of the covers. “Little Jessie is doing just fine. Don’t you worry about that. Truitt took her down to the stables to see the new litter of pups one of our cow dogs had a couple of days ago. She was emotional, of course, after you collapsed on the front porch. Truitt carried you up here, and we called Doc Cuesta right away. Next morning, Truitt was able to fly him in on the chopper. The roads were still flooding at the time. He says you have a severe case of the old-fashioned flu, coupled with a slight case of anemia; you were one sick young lady. Your fever kept us worried for a bit. It was so high, and you were mumbling all sorts of things. Luckily, the meds and the IV the doc got into you first thing began to do their job late yesterday afternoon. It’s a miracle you managed to continue on your journey the way you did. With a lot of rest, and doing what the doctor prescribes, we’ll get your strength built up again. You should be right as rain in a week or two.”
Annie listened and tried to grasp all the woman was telling her, but the last part was what caught her attention the most. “I rambled? What did I say? And two weeks? Jessie and I can’t stay here. We have to keep moving.”
The woman shook her head. “Getting upset like this is not what is going to get you up on your feet again,” the woman admonished, her hand lightly patting Annie’s shoulder, concern etched on her forehead. “You rambled, but none of it made any sense. That’s to be expected sometimes when a person has such a high fever. You were one sick young lady, and you’ve slept for the better part of two days. According to Jessie, you two were on your way to San Antonio. She said that you had a job lined up there with someone you used to work with? If you’d like me to get a message to them for you, I’d be happy to do so. But if you want to get your health back and get on your feet for that new job, then you need to rest and let your body mend itself. We have lots of rooms in this house, and they’re rarely used these days. It’s just my nephews, when they’re in town, and me rambling around here. And one of them is usually missing in action a lot more than Truitt. There’s no need to fret about moving on so soon. You and little Jessie are our guests for as long as you need in order to get on your feet.” She stood. “Now, I’m going to get you some beef broth and juice.”
“I’m afraid I don’t even know your name.”
The woman paused in the doorway and turned back toward Annie with a warm smile. “I’m Truitt’s aunt. Sallie Lomax. Call me Aunt Sal…everyone does. You’re safe and sound on the Four T Ranch, so all you need to do is let yourself relax and mend.”
Annie hoped the weak smile she sent the woman looked better than it felt. She closed her eyes and tried to focus her mind on urgent matters, which included how to get back on her feet quickly and get herself and Jessie back on the road. A couple of weeks. Everything seemed to work against them. Why did she have to get sick? Easy. Try being on the run almost twenty hours of every day and conserving as much money as possible by skipping meals while making certain Jessie still ate.
Once they reached San Antonio, Annie knew they would need money for deposits for a place to live and money to get by on until she could earn her first paycheck. Her coworker, Sandy Martin, had moved to Texas a few months back and landed a job in a new up-and-coming special events venue on the famed Riverwalk. They had more business than they could handle, and she had spoken to her bosses about Annie. After an interview over Skype, they made her an offer. And Annie felt it had to be divine providence that it had come the week before everything happened in their lives to set in motion their leaving for Texas.
So, each day, she carefully planned out the budget. Of course, she hadn’t planned on the car’s transmission going out in New Mexico. She had managed to keep them moving, and she had to continue to do so. Except now, they had been forced to come to a screeching halt by her illness. She closed her eyes against the real pain in her head and the emotional pain in her chest. A single tear escaped down her cheek. Safe and sound the woman had said… If only there was such a place.
*
What was his aunt thinking? That question went through Truitt’s mind more than a few times in the last couple of days. From the moment the woman collapsed into his arms on the front porch, his life had been commandeered and rearranged by his aunt. If he didn’t love her so much, he would be tempted to tell his aunt to get a grip.
He shook his head at that thought. He shouldn’t be surprised by what she had done. The woman had rescued him once and saved his sorry hide. For what reason, he wasn’t sure. There had certainly been times when he had wished she hadn’t. He shouldn’t be surprised that she saw herself as the rescuer where the two female strangers were concerned.
Truitt still felt guilty whenever he thought back to how rough he had been on the woman with the green eyes that reminded him of the cat they once had when he was a boy. That had to be the reason something reacted inside of him the moment she looked up at him with such wariness as he shone his light inside the car. Long lashes, slight almond shape to the emerald depths and something had sparked awfully close to a place in his chest that he thought had been walled-off for good. Which, given the circumstances and the storm, had to have been enhanced in that moment.
There had been instant mistrust and borderline fear sparking those jade depths; the thick dark lashes rimming them gave her a look of added mystery and secrets. The reddish-gold color of her hair had also caught his attention. It had momentarily reminded him of the color of the sky just as the sun sinks beyond the horizon at the end of the day in a last shout of light. That was as close to being poetic as he was likely to come. It had been a shock to him when the description came so easily to his mind. She had thrown him off-balance. He didn’t care for that. Being off-balance could get a person into trouble.
When she had fainted, he had reacted swiftly, catching her fall and swinging her up into his arms. Carrying her upstairs to the guest room, he was surprised at how light she was and how fragile she felt in his arms. Some females carried dieting to extremes, he knew, but he doubted very much that such was the case with her. She might be weak due to illness but there was an inner strength in her spirit he had sensed even in their brief time together. No one had ever dared to come close to putting him in his place with just a look as she had done in the storm. And she had rounded on him when he had been rude. He wagered she would still have some fire in her on a good day. Truitt supposed he deserved her remarks, and that served as another irritant. He already berated himself a lot for being so gruff and scaring the little girl when he found them on the side of the road. It had to be a scary situation, but doubly so for the child. He had tried to make it up to her over the last couple of days.
It would just be better for
all once the pair could get on their way again and life could go back to the routine he knew. Think so? Where had that doubt come from? Just another example of how things had been out of kilter since their arrival.
The last two days, each time he had moved past the door of Annie Sims’s room, he had fought and lost against the urge to look in on her. Each time, she had been asleep, lying so still he found himself pausing to watch to make certain she was breathing, the covers over her chest moving up and down in verification.
For some reason this evening, his aunt had decided he should take Jessie to the barn to see the new litter. It was an excuse to get her out of her sister’s room and into the fresh air. But why did it have to be him? He wasn’t that good with kids…or at least kids he didn’t know. He had his nephew, Andy, his oldest brother’s son. They were best buddies. And there were a few other kids on the ranch belonging to some of the ranch hands, but he had little to do with them.
The ranch was his life, and he only left it to work the rodeos that his brother and sister contracted for their rodeo stock. More and more, he was thinking that his travel days were limited, and he’d stay on the land and train the ranch horses that had been his plan before tragedy struck his family a few years back. He carried a visible reminder of the day their lives all changed. The day he hadn’t been strong enough.
Truitt thought back to the appointment with the surgeon in San Antonio he’d made to finally get Aunt Sal off his case. He had been on his way back when he had come upon the two stranded—the appointment, the storm, Aunt Sal’s insistence had combined to fuel his foul mood that he’d taken out on the unsuspecting woman and little girl. That had been wrong of him. He owed them an apology.
Opening the door of the stable, he stepped through, and then turned to see if the child had followed. She was a quiet little thing…didn’t talk a lot, just watched those around her with brown eyes that looked huge in an elfin face that needed some color put back in it. Her silence was okay by him. He didn’t talk a lot, either.