by Jeannie Watt
Rain pelted the windshield and blew in through the open sides of the ATV. Faith’s wet fingers were getting numb from the cold. She followed the tracks that the rain was rapidly washing away, rounded a corner and saw the lights carving their way through the dark sky, pointing toward the tops of the tall fir trees ahead.
The ATV slid sideways in the slick mud as she approached the place where the tracks headed over the edge of the road, and she slowed, then stopped. She told Sully to stay, then jumped off the vehicle and headed toward the embankment. As she got closer, she heard the sound of rolling rocks over the rain. A few seconds later, a head appeared over the top of the berm.
Faith rushed forward and the man slid backward before his feet regained purchase on the slippery bank and he heaved himself upward again. Taking hold of his wet jacket, Faith set her feet and leaned back, counterbalancing the man as he made his way up and over. She staggered sideways as he regained his footing on the muddy road.
He was big and broad and once he had his balance, he towered over her. Just as that guy in the parking lot had before he’d spun her around and knocked her down.
Faith’s chest constricted. For one long moment, she and Drew Miller faced off in the lights of the ATV.
Move. Say something.
Instead she stared at him as the rain pelted her face.
“I’m not going to hurt you.” He stepped backward and one of his knees buckled, snapping her back to her senses.
Of course he wasn’t going to hurt her. “Can you get in on your own?” She pointed at the ATV and he gave a slow nod before advancing. She pulled her phone out of her pocket and he stopped.
“What are you doing?”
“Calling dispatch.”
“No.”
He spoke adamantly and Faith lowered the phone. “I already called them. I promised an update.”
“No ambulance.”
“I can take you to the hospital,” she said, assuming it was the cost that had him concerned.
“No hospital.”
“Do you want me to leave you here?” she snapped.
He angled his head as if discerning whether he’d heard her correctly. “I’d appreciate a ride to my place. It’s a couple of miles up the road.”
“Fine.” Faith wiped the water off her face. She wasn’t about to try to force him to seek medical care. She’d take him home. Drop him off. Hope that he didn’t have a concussion or something.
Once they were both in the close confines of the side-by-side and Sully was in the open cargo space at the rear, she put the vehicle in gear and headed up the road, weaving in and around the ruts. “What happened?”
“Deer.”
She gripped the wheel tighter. A couple of miles. She could do this. It wasn’t as if he was her attacker. Just a close physical facsimile...and, maybe because she was in the role of rescuer, her tension seemed more directed toward the shock of the accident rather than knee-jerk fear. She maneuvered around a corner and then another. He lived at the end of a very windy road. “I know the hospital is out, but do you want me to call your family? Tell them what happened?”
“I’ll do it.”
Faith forced herself to release her death grip on the steering wheel. Just another mile. Then you can breathe. Go back home. Climb into the tub. Drink your wine...
“Thank you.”
The words surprised her and it took her a couple seconds to say, “Not a problem.”
“I think it is.”
She frowned but resisted the urge to look at him. They covered the last mile in total silence, rounding one final corner before the headlights of the ATV illuminated a very small cabin with a metal shop building next to it. The shop dwarfed the cabin.
“Cozy,” she murmured. It couldn’t have more than three rooms, tops. Her money was on two.
“It’s home,” he spoke as he climbed out of the ATV.
She nodded, waiting for him to start toward his dark house, her nerves humming with the anticipation of escape.
“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t tell my sister about this.”
Faith was about to tell him that she didn’t see any way around telling Debra, when he swayed a little. “Are you okay?”
“Fine.” He abruptly turned, started for the cabin. He made it almost three feet before he crumpled into a heap in the muddy driveway.
“Blast.” Faith jumped out of the ATV and raced to him. She used both hands to take hold of his broad shoulder and roll him over so that he didn’t drown in the mud puddle he’d landed in.
He let out a groan as he flopped onto his back.
Okay. He was breathing. And he was done calling the shots. She pulled the phone out of her pocket, water beading on the screen as she punched in 911. “I need an ambulance at the top of the Trestle Road.” She answered the dispatcher’s rapid-fire questions and was assured that a deputy was on his way.
“No ambulance,” Drew muttered from where he lay.
“An ambulance will follow,” the dispatcher said.
She hung up without asking if she could move him. She was going to do it anyway. He couldn’t lie in a mud puddle until help arrived and he’d already moved quite a bit under his own steam.
“If I help you, can you get up?”
He nodded, grimacing, and rolled over to bring himself up to his hands and knees. Faith crouched close to him, taking hold of his arm. She braced herself as he put his weight on her and slowly got to his feet. He swayed again, but Faith kept him from going down.
“Is your house locked?”
“Key under the mat.”
“Very original,” Faith murmured. As they made the slow journey through the mud, she supported less and less of his weight and by the time they reached the small, two-post porch, he was walking on his own. But Faith noted that he did not bend to retrieve the spare key and that he took firm hold of the post as she unlocked the door. Sully remained next to her, pushing his way into the cabin before Faith stepped inside. He wasn’t going to allow her to be alone with Drew, and his presence gave her a small measure of security.
She flipped on a light switch as Drew followed her and Sully inside, but nothing happened.
“The storm must have knocked out the power,” she said.
“I don’t have power.”
Her eyes widened. “No power?”
“Generator.” He stepped over to a box next to the light switch and pushed a button. Lights flickered a few times, then lit as the machine outside roared to life. She glanced around the cabin—so it was three rooms. A combined kitchen and living room with a back exit and two interior doors. A half loft. The place was old, the floorboards warped. The kitchen barely had any counter space or cabinetry. A rustic, minimalist place that somehow seemed to fit the man living here.
“You live with that sound?”
“No.” He pressed his hand to his head as if the answer had cost him.
“Sit down.” Faith motioned to the surprisingly nice leather sofa, then took a couple of steps back as if giving him room. In reality, she was giving herself room. He did as he was told, sinking down with a low exhale. “I’ll stay until the ambulance gets here.”
“I’m sending them back down the mountain.”
“No insurance?”
He shook his head. “No hospitals.”
“Do what you have to do. I’m staying until they get here.”
“No wonder you’re friends with my sister,” he muttered.
“We’re not friends.” Faith’s face grew warm at her clipped comment. “What I mean is that she’s my boss. Best not to blur lines.”
He lifted his gaze, one hand still pressed against his forehead and Faith took a step back, settling her hand on Sully’s wet curls. Logically, she knew Drew wasn’t a threat in his present condition, but survival instincts, once triggered, were stro
ng. Exhaustively strong. He frowned as she moved back another step, and she had a strong feeling that it wasn’t from pain. He was trying to read her. Figure out what was wrong with her. Just as he had in the café.
He didn’t say a word, and neither did she. The rain beat on the roof, and a tree branch brushed lightly against the windows, but the silence inside the cabin seemed louder than the weather outside.
Finally, Drew broke the silence. “If you’re not friends, then maybe you don’t need to discuss this with her.”
She gave him an incredulous look. “And when she finds out? I can’t see where that would be good for either of us.”
“I don’t want her to scare my daughter.”
“You have a daughter?”
She had no idea why that revelation stunned her, but it did.
He closed his eyes without answering, letting his head rest on the cushion behind him. Faith stayed standing, hugging her arms around her middle. She scanned the room, which was sparsely furnished, ridiculously neat. A photo on the desk caught her attention and she glanced at Drew before leaning closer to get a better look. A much younger and carefree-looking Drew smiled down at the dark-haired woman in his arms. She smiled directly at the camera, joy lighting her face. A tremendous capture. Her contentment, his adoration. A couple deeply in love.
Faith pulled her gaze away, feeling as if she were intruding on a private moment. Drew’s eyes remained closed when she gave into impulse and checked the hands resting loosely on his thighs. The ring he wore in the photo was no longer on his finger.
The sound of an engine brought his eyes open again, catching her midstare. Faith quickly averted her gaze and moved to the window. A sheriff’s SUV pulled to a stop next to Faith’s ATV. A few seconds later, she opened the door to let a young deputy wearing a black raincoat and a plastic cover over his hat.
She gave him her statement while Drew sat silently on the sofa. The deputy turned to him.
“How are you feeling, sir?”
“I’m fine.”
“He fell face-first into a mud puddle.” Faith figured the deputy might as well have all the facts before he left.
“Is that true, sir?”
“I’m not going to the hospital.”
“You’re refusing medical care?” the deputy asked.
“I am.”
“The paramedics are almost here. What say we let them check you out?”
Faith held her breath, releasing it when Drew grunted consent. “Then they leave. Everyone leaves.”
“I’ll leave now.” She couldn’t wait to get out of here. The deputy had her contact information and there was nothing to keep her. She headed toward the door, Sully at her heels, giving the deputy a quick nod before pulling it open. She didn’t look at Drew Miller.
The seat of the ATV was soaking wet, but so were her pants, so Faith climbed on and turned the key. In fifteen minutes, she’d be at her house, warm and dry.
She saw the lights of the ambulance turning onto the road leading past the Lightning Creek as she started down the mountain. Good luck to you guys.
The headlights of Drew’s vehicle were no longer cutting through the darkness as she rounded the corner where he had crashed. She eased to a stop, despite the rain, directing her headlights so that they illuminated the place where the tracks left the road. Easing her way through the muck, she peered over the bank. An open Jeep rested on its roll bar. Faith shuddered and headed back to her ATV.
When she put the machine into gear, her hands were shaking so badly it was hard to get a good grip on the gearshift. It was cold and wet out. Of course her hands were shaking.
It had nothing to do with Drew and that Jeep sitting squarely on the roll bar that had saved his life.
* * *
DREW STRUGGLED OUT of his wet clothes, which stuck to his damp skin. After dealing with the deputy and the no-nonsense female paramedic who could have taken him in a fair fight and then climbing the ladder to the loft, he barely had the energy left to do battle with his clothing. Finally, he kicked the last bit of his jeans free and collapsed onto the bed.
He hurt.
He had a hellacious bruise where the seat belt had cut into him, a large bump on the side of his head where he’d hit the doorframe and general soreness from tensing up during an adrenaline spike.
He was going to hurt more in the morning, once the shock wore off. So be it. Pain was an old friend. At one point, he’d embraced physical pain because it distracted him from the real anguish in his life, and, because of that, he now had a huge stash of unused meds. A scary stash. One that he should have gotten rid of a long time ago, but kept as a remembrance of surviving when he wasn’t certain he’d wanted to. But he’d soldiered on for his little girl. And for Lissa, who wouldn’t have wanted him to give in to the pain.
He closed his eyes, thinking that he’d pull the blanket up over him in a moment. The next thing he knew, gray light was filtering in through the windows and he was shivering on his side. He reached out for the blanket and groaned as his body rebelled.
Maybe he wasn’t remembering correctly. Maybe he’d been hit by a truck instead of rolling down a hill. It certainly felt as if he’d made close contact with a Peterbilt. There was no way he was going back to sleep, so Drew swung his legs out of bed, then sat for a moment before forcing himself to his feet.
He didn’t pee red.
Now he didn’t have to stop by for that checkup that Brunhild the paramedic had insisted on. He’d pop a few ibuprofens and wait for Deb’s call—because Faith had made it clear that she wasn’t going to keep her mouth shut. He comforted himself with the knowledge that Pete would intercept any call from Deb to Maddie, to keep Deb from upsetting her. Drew didn’t want his daughter to know that he’d come close to buying it again. She was insecure enough about loss as it was.
Drew pulled a pair of sweats out of the antique armoire that served as a closet. No jeans today. He struggled into them, jammed his feet into his moccasins and gingerly pulled a long-sleeve T-shirt over his head. He got stuck halfway through the process. He let out a breath, gathered his strength and managed to pull the shirt into place.
Once dressed, he sat back on the bed and caught his breath.
He had a Jeep to winch up the side of a mountain. Probably some serious bodywork ahead of him. The radiator had been hissing and spewing when he’d started climbing the hill, so add that to the list. He’d call Pete in a bit, arrange to haul his sorry rig up the mountain and tow it to the shop. Pete was a hell of a lot better at bodywork than he was, so he’d offer a trade of some kind.
Drew preferred paying in cold hard cash, but Pete would have none of it. Ironic that Pete needed the money and wouldn’t take it, and Drew had the money and wanted to give it.
He got to his feet and stiffly descended the ladder into the living area, swallowing a groan of pain as he stepped off the last rung. The silence pressed in on him, but he didn’t start the generator. His gaze drifted over to the photo of him and Lissa. He’d caught Faith studying the photo the night before, as if she were surprised that a woman might get that close to him.
Twenty-four hours ago, she’d been a name on a slip of paper that his sister had pressed upon him. An unwanted meeting. Now she was his rescuer. Yes, he might have gotten to the cabin under his own steam, but he also might have passed out in the road, and then died of exposure during the rainy night.
Once upon a time, dying hadn’t seemed like a bad option, but he’d always been clear on the fact that it wasn’t an option for him. He was a survivor. His methodology might suck. He might not have the greatest existence, but he was carving something out for himself and Maddie. After all he’d been through, it would have sucked to die in a mud puddle.
He owed the woman.
He needed to thank her...even though he had the very strong feeling that she didn’t want to be thanked.
CHAPTER THREE
FAITH DREADED GOING to work the day after she’d helped Drew Miller back to his cabin. She had to say something to Debra when the other woman returned from her morning meeting in Helena. But what would she say?
Hey, did you hear that your brother had a wreck on the mountain? No? Well, let me fill you in.
It was a damned-if-she-did, damned-if-she-didn’t kind of situation. If he’d told his sister, fine. But she truly doubted he was going to do that, which left it up to her to say something. Word of the accident would surely get out in the small community. Even if the paramedics or deputy didn’t say anything, a wrecker would certainly be called to haul the vehicle back up onto the road.
What was the worst that could happen if she kept her mouth shut?
Once Debra found out about Drew’s accident, Faith would be in a very awkward spot. The woman had accepted the fact that Drew wasn’t going to be partaking in equine therapy, but she’d also said in a wistful way that she wished Faith had “tried harder” to talk him into it.
Now she was stuck in the middle of a situation not of her making. All because she’d agreed to take a meeting with the guy. If she hadn’t done that, he wouldn’t have known who she was when she’d shown up to rescue him. She wouldn’t have known who he was. If they figured it out later, it would have been one of those odd coincidences that they could have marveled over.
But they did know each other. Debra had wanted her to work with Drew so she could get the scoop on how he was doing from Faith at work. She hadn’t said that last part, but Faith had understood that was part of the deal. Debra was worried about her brother. And now that she’d met the man, Faith believed that Debra had cause. He’d come off as being in control, comfortable in his surroundings at the café. But the isolation in which he lived, his insistence on no medical treatment, the photo of him in younger, happier days... The man who’d smiled out of that photograph was not the guy she’d dealt with.