He nosed the door and barked again. Looking back at her, he barked once more.
“What is it?” she asked, becoming concerned. He’d never acted this way before.
He woofed again, several times, almost as if he was chastising her.
“Okay, okay.” Jenny pulled on her heavy winter coat and flipped the hood over her head. “
We’ll see what’s got you all worked up. But if it’s a squirrel or something, I’m not going to be happy.”
She opened the door and he shot outside like a bullet, running past the jeep and down the driveway.
“Val, come!” she called, hurrying after him. Where was the fool dog going?
The snow was already a foot deep. She hurried after him, slipping now and then.
It took several minutes to catch up with him. He continued to bark and when she rounded a curve in the driveway, she saw him on the road. Not that the road was easy to see; the snow blended everywhere. She’d be lucky to find her way back home.
As Jenny approached the road, she saw that a white pick-up truck had gone into the ditch on the other side of the road. Val stood near the driver’s door barking furiously.
Jenny hurried to join him. The truck already had a thick coating of snow and due to the angle of incline in the ditch, the side window was coated as well.
She scraped the driver’s window clear and peered inside.
A man sat behind the wheel, his head resting on the back of the seat, a trickle of blood running down the side of his head.
She pounded on the window. For a moment, nothing happened. Then he opened his eyes, blinked once and turned to stare at her.
Jenny tugged on the door handle and pulled the door open.
“Are you okay?” she asked, leaning in slightly to see him better.
“I’ve been better.”
He looked out the door, then back at the covered windshield. “I thought I could make it back before the snow got too deep. Guess I figured that wrong.”
Jenny straightened, noticing he wore jeans and a shearling jacket over a flannel shirt. Beyond him on the front seat was the ubiquitous cowboy hat.
“Judging from the angle of the truck, I’d say you aren’t going to back it out any time soon,” she remarked. “And even if you did get it out on its own power, I doubt you’d get five feet down the road. The snow’s more than a foot deep already. And you can see how thick it’s coming down.”
He rubbed his forehead.
Looking closely, she noticed a slight bump.
“Did you hit your head?” she asked.
“I think I whacked it on the window when the truck spun and then slammed into the ditch.”
“You can’t stay here. You’ll freeze to death. You’d better come back to the house with me.”
He looked around. “Where’s your house?”
She pointed across the road to the wide space between the trees. “Down that way.”
He looked at her and then at the German Shepherd standing right next to Jenny. “You’re the Army veteran. I heard you lived outside town.”
She nodded. “Jenny Schofield. Come on, it’s getting colder by the minute.”
He climbed out of the car and set his hat on his head, wincing slightly when it touched the abraded area.
“I’m Tucker Mason. Folks call me Tuck.”
“And you live in Wild Cat Creek?”
“On the Bar 7 Ranch on the other side of town. I’m segundo there.”
“Bill Mackay’s place?”
He nodded, then winced again.
Val danced around.
“Let’s go home,” Jenny told the big dog.
He turned and led the way back toward the cabin trotting ahead of them, but not too far ahead Jenny couldn’t follow.
Tuck walked beside her.
He was tall with that slim physique so common to cowboys—wide shoulders, long legs—and of course wearing cowboy boots. Which wouldn’t offer much traction in the snow.
He kept pace with her despite the head injury and boots more suited to riding than tramping through snow.
“Does your head hurt?” she asked.
“A bit.”
“I’ll look at it when we reach home, I’m a nurse.”
“Fine.”
They walked in silence the rest of the way. Jenny was grateful for Val’s leading; the snow was so heavy she might have walked right off the driveway into the trees and been lost.
Her curiosity was rising. She didn’t know everyone in town, of course, but she didn’t think she’d ever heard of Tucker Mason.
She’d been gone for six years and only back a few months. She’d been surprised at how much changed in her absence. As a child growing up in Wild Cat Creek, she’d believed nothing had changed in a hundred years.
“Are you from around here?” she asked. How much farther to the cabin? She was cold and felt she’d been walking miles.
“From the Bar 7,” he said again.
“Born and raised there?” she asked with some asperity. She wasn’t senile, she’d heard him the first time he’d said it.
“No, born and raised in Texas.” Now that he said it, she noticed his words held a hint of Texas drawl.
“How long here in Wyoming?” she asked.
He looked down at her. She met his gaze, knowing hers was full of curiosity. This man she met a few moments ago already intrigued her.
“A while.”
She wrinkled her nose and faced forward. Either he was super secretive or just didn’t want to open up.
Which raised her curiosity a notch higher.
“Do you know where you’re going?” he asked a moment later. The thick snow made it impossible to see more than a few feet in front of them.
“I’m relying on Val to lead the way,” she said. “He’ll get us home. My driveway’s a bit long. He must have heard your crash though I can’t imagine how. The snow muffles everything. He was in an all fired hurry to get out and headed straight for you.”
“I appreciate the rescue.”
They trudged along in silence for several minutes. Then the snow-covered jeep appeared and finally the cabin.
“We’re here,” she said, following Val up the steps to the porch. After they brushed off most of the snow, she opened the door and led the way inside.
♥ ♥ ♥
“Man, this feels great,” Tuck said, removing his hat and holding it in his hand.
He looked around the cabin, seemingly glad for the warmth. It looked like it was one large room with furniture designating the different areas–living, dining. The kitchen opened to the room and had a door leading outside. Three doors on the back wall were closed. Bedrooms and bath were his guess.
“You can hang your coat and hat on the rack,” she said, pointing out the hooks on the wall beside the door.
He nodded, taking off his jacket. The place was snug and warm. Too bad he’d have to head back out as soon as he could get his truck towed. There was too much work waiting to give into a sudden desire to just sit down and soak up the warmth.
“Can I use your phone?”
“Sure, but let me look at your head first.”
It was pounding. He took a deep breath, then followed her to one of the doors. Opening it revealed a bathroom and she motioned to the closed toilet. He felt the trickle of blood now that the warmth had started the flow again.
“I can wash up,” he said, peering at his reflection in the mirror. Not too bad. He’d had worse.
“Sit down and I’ll wash it and assess the damage,” she said in a no-nonsense voice.
“Bossy,” he muttered.
“What?”
“I’ve had worse being tossed from a bull.”
“Oh great, a rodeo cowboy.” She brought out a washcloth from the small linen closet and let the water run until it was hot.
“Not anymore.”
“That the reason for the move to Wyoming?”
He didn’t reply. He hadn’t told anyone why he lef
t Texas, just said he’d been looking for a change. The men at the ranch didn’t question him. Even Bill MacKay left it alone after the first casual question.
Her touch was gentle. He closed his eyes and willed the throbbing to go away. It didn’t work. The warm cloth felt good against his cool skin and he could tell she was gently wiping the blood away. A moment later he felt a cool spray. Snapping his eyes open he looked at the spray can of antiseptic.
“I have some aspirin if you have a headache. You’ve got a goose egg, but the skin seemed to split when you hit the window. I don’t think you need stitches.”
When she turned back to the sink to rinse out the washcloth, he rose. Sitting here wasn’t getting him anywhere. That taken care of, he needed to get someone to haul his truck out of that ditch.
And being next to a pretty woman wasn’t going anywhere either. He’d learned that lesson the hard way.
“I appreciate the help. Can I use your phone now?” He’d seen it on the wall near the kitchen cabinets.
She agreed and he dialed the ranch first, wanting to let them know he was on his way.
“MacKay,” his boss answered.
“It’s Tuck. My truck slid off the road and into a ditch. I need to get a tow to get it out, and then I’ll be on my way.”
“It’s snowing to beat the band out there,” his boss said.
“I know.” He rubbed his forehead, hoping to ease the pounding.
“Where are you?”
“I’m at Jenny Schofield’s place. Her dog heard the truck crash, I guess. She came to investigate and ended up bringing me back to her place. Anyway, I’ll call for a tow and be on my way. I’ll let you know when I’m ready to leave. Depends on when Troy can get out.”
“The plows can’t keep up with the snowfall. If the road doesn’t get cleared, you’ll never make it home today.”
“I can try. At least get to town. I’ll call you when I know something.”
“All right. In the meantime, I’ll talk to the boys and get them started on keeping cattle fed and watered.”
Tuck hung up. His boss needed him more than ever in a blizzard. Watering holes needed to be kept clear of ice. Hay might need to be laid out. Cattle pulled from ravines. A dozen other things to think about.
Nothing he could do from here.
He turned and almost bumped into Jenny. She came to his chin, her shiny brown hair swirling around her shoulders. Her blue eyes startled him again. He’d thought they were amazing when he’d first seen her—such a bright clear blue. She was a beautiful woman.
He stepped aside and looked away. He knew how beautiful women worked. He'd learned that firsthand from Trish. He was not going down that road a second time.
“I’ll heat some water, we can have coffee or hot chocolate,” she informed him. “What’s your preference?”
“I’ll take coffee,” he said. “Do you have a phone book? I don’t know Troy’s number.”
Troy Warren was a car mechanic in town who also offered towing services.
She opened a drawer and pulled out the thin directory, handing it to him.
Tuck dialed the number. It was answered on the second ring.
“Is Troy there?”
“No, this is his wife Maisy. Can I help you?”
“My truck’s slid into a ditch, I need him to pull it out.”
“It’ll be a long while. There was a multiple car crash out near the interstate and he’s there sorting things out with the sheriff’s deputy. Might be there the rest of the day. You’re safe?”
“Yeah. Anyone else there who could do it?”
“Nope, we only have the one tow truck. Where are you? I’ll let him know when he gets in. But it might not even be today.”
He turned to Jenny. “Where are we so Troy will know where to come?”
“I’m sixteen miles out of town,” she answered. “Tell her Jenny Schofield’s place. Maisy and I are friends.”
He relayed the information and was promised she’d call him back when Troy was on the way.
He rubbed his forehead again. “He’s out near the interstate. Might be a while.”
“Then take the aspirin and have some coffee.”
He took the offered coffee and went to sit in the easy chair beside the fireplace.
It felt good to sit. He closed his eyes and leaned his throbbing head against the high back, willing the aspirin to take effect.
Jenny sat on the sofa and took a sip of her hot chocolate.
They sat in silence for several minutes. When he opened his eyes, he saw she was gazing into the fire.
“Do you need to get to town?” he asked hopefully. “Maybe I could get a ride with you and then find someone to take me to the ranch.”
“I’m a private duty nurse and just finished an assignment yesterday. Timing’s perfect for the blizzard. No job lined up, so no need to worry about getting out any time soon,” she said. “I went shopping this morning and had a heck of a time getting home. That was when the snow as only about five or six inches deep. Sorry, but I wouldn’t risk it now.”
The phone rang. Jenny rose and crossed the room to answer it. From hearing one side of the conversation, Tuck thought it was the sheriff calling.
“Hi Tal. I’m doing fine. I made it home from town before it got too deep. I have plenty of groceries, wood, and gas for the generator. And now I have a guest—Tucker Mason. He works at the Bar 7. His truck went into the ditch right outside my driveway.”
She was quiet for a moment.
“Service dog,” she said unexpectedly, “though most people looking at Val would think he was a K-9 with law enforcement training. Typical perception about German Shepherds.”
Tuck smiled at that. Most people did.
“Tuck called Rory, but Maisy told him it’d be a while.”
A couple of minutes later she said goodbye and looked over at Tucker.
“According to the sheriff, you're probably going to be here for a while. The storm’s getting worse.”
Valentine’s Rescue: Chapter 2
Tucker shook his head and rubbed the back of his neck. “Sorry to impose on you.”
“Not a problem, I bought a lot of food to hunker down through the storm, so there’s plenty.”
He nodded, took another sip of coffee and gazed into the fire.
Jenny finished her hot chocolate and went to clean up after lunch. Might as well decide what to have for dinner. Since she had fresh produce, she wanted to use it up first. She knew the meal she planned was tried and true for a guy–steak, potatoes, and a crisp green salad. She hadn’t initially planned on that for dinner, or cooking for two, so she went to the chest freezer on the back porch and pulled out two steaks to start thawing.
When she came back inside, Tuck looked as if he’d fallen asleep. The cup was on the floor beside him, and his head was leaning back on the high back chair, eyes closed.
She studied him for a long moment. He was more rugged than handsome. Definitely a man who from the little she’d seen had a strong sense of responsibility. Maybe he’d feel more like talking later. She'd like to get to know him better if they were going to be stuck together until the storm ended.
When Jenny returned to the sofa, she pulled her knitting basket near and picked up the sweater she was making for her friend Darcy’s new baby. The teal and white yarn made a pretty design and teal was her friend’s favorite color. She took a deep breath and snuck another look at Tuck. He was still dozing and Val lay comfortably in front of the fire.
♥ ♥ ♥
Tuck opened his eyes a little, watching his hostess knit. She seemed content in the stormy day. The headache had grown worse. Maybe he’d done more damage than he thought. And the frustration of being isolated away from the ranch was growing.
He should be back there working with the others to keep the cattle safe.
The more he thought about what he could be doing, the more frustrated he became.
He felt a weight on his leg and looked to see t
he dog’s head resting on his thigh, his amber eyes gazing up at Tuck.
“Are you okay?” Jenny asked looking over at the two of them.
“Still have the headache.” He wasn’t one to complain, but he wondered if she had anything stronger than aspirin.
“Not unexpected. You hit it hard enough to have a bump on your forehead.”
He shrugged. “The truck wouldn’t respond to steering. It swung around and then slammed to a stop with my head bouncing around like a basketball. Not as bad as some falls I’ve had.” Like when he was bucked off that bull and landed on his head.
Jenny brought him some acetaminophen and a glass of water. “Try this. It’s been long enough since you had the aspirin. We can alternate until the headache’s gone. You’re not showing signs of a concussion.”
He downed the pills with the water and nodded his thanks.
“The second bedroom is sparsely furnished, but it does have a bed. I’ll make it up for you and you can lie down until your head feels better,” she offered.
He nodded, idly patting the dog who remained by his side. Right now, he was having trouble thinking. The pounding in his head was growing worse.
“All set,” Jenny said a few minutes later.
He opened his eyes and the room spun around. Closing them quickly, he groaned softly.
“Let me help.” A moment later her arm came under his.
“Just stand slowly, keep your eyes closed if you need to. It’s only a few steps to the bed.”
It seemed like a long few steps but only seconds later, Tuck gratefully sank onto the mattress. She swiftly pulled off his boots and lifted his legs so he could lie down. Covering him with a duvet, she rested her hand on his forehead. It was cool and felt good against the pounding.
“See if you can nap. You’ll feel better when you wake up if you can get some rest.”
Tuck nodded once, his eyes still closed. Lying down felt better. If he could stop his thoughts from spinning, maybe he could doze for a little while.
There was so much to do. He should be on the ranch pulling his weight. Not lying down in a warm cabin, isolated for everyone but one pretty woman and her dog. Maybe if he rested a bit, he could go back to the truck to see if he could dig it out or something.
Cupid to the Rescue: A Tail-Wagging Valentine's Day Anthology Page 59