“That sounds like him.” Summer slid a hand across her stomach to ease its sickening dance. This was the second verification she had that Colt was alive. Although she sure hated to think of his beautiful face being marred because of her.
“Give me a minute, please, Joani. I’ll try to find him and let him know I’m here with another of my wranglers. Then I’ll pitch in.”
“Sure. And bring back any news, okay? There are still men trapped underground.” Joani’s eyes darkened. “Cam’s helping to suck grain out of the damaged silos. I’m scared to death a second one will blow.”
“Not if they’ve relieved the pressure. The silos already on fire may need to be sealed and left to burn. All the inner cores are fireproof, though. That’s why the coop voted to upgrade to fire-safe interior walls when they built here.”
“Cam said losses will run high. The co-op can’t auction wet or smoky grain.”
Summer hadn’t considered the insurance nightmare facing them all. She’d been too concerned about lives. Especially Colt’s. Everyone’s, really. Dollars and cents took a back seat to probable injuries. It wasn’t that she didn’t need every penny from her wheat to offset bills. She did. They all did. But these were the times when ranchers rallied around one another.
Not paying attention to where she walked, she ran headlong into Colt. At first, she didn’t recognize him, since he wore a hard hat and was grimy with smoke and sweat.
“Hey!” He grabbed her and swung her off her feet. “I saw Trace. He said you’d gone looking for the truck. I figured if you saw the windows, you’d think the worst.”
“Oh, Colt….” Tears welled up as she traced the dried blood on his cheek. Softening her touch, she examined numerous smaller nicks dotting his left cheek.
“I’m one of the luckier ones,” he said, as he set her back on the ground. “They shipped the man unloading the truck in front of me to an area hospital with serious injuries. As many as five are trapped under grain and debris. We’re clearing access to the tunnels a foot at a time. God knows how many more men may be stuck. This is a snake pit, Summer. Dangerous. I want you to stay away from the silos. Trace went to move the truck if he can because the firefighters need room to jockey their rigs. We’ll try to save my load. But I don’t feel we can run off and go back to harvesting. I’m sorry. Any way you look at this, it delays roundup.”
“You think I care? My God, Coltrane, if you’d been the one unloading…” She faltered, resting her forehead against his fast-beating heart. There was a measure of reassurance in just listening to it.
Colt ran his fingers through her hair, murmuring in an equally unsteady voice, “I know seeing the truck must have been a shock, sweetheart. But, uh, Summer, folks are staring at us. I doubt you’ll want rumors getting back to Frank. Who knows, he could even be among the people arriving from town.”
Summer raised her head. “Is that what you’re scared of? Appearances?”
He couldn’t tell her what really ate at his gut. Nor could he, in good conscience, let her think the attraction she felt was one-sided. “As a rule, I don’t give a damn about appearances. I just happen to think your life is complicated enough right now. Plus, here’s the real issue—I’ve got nothing to offer you, Summer, except what I’m already doing. Not one damn thing.”
She sneaked two fingers up and over his lips. “Shh. I know neither one of us was planning to get involved. But in all my life, I’ve always done what was expected. I’ve been good and dutiful. I’ve worked my butt off for the Forked Lightning. I’ve never followed my heart. Audrey says it’s high time I did.”
“Summer, no,” Colt burst out in exasperation and frustration. “The timing—it’s worse than bad. It’s impossible.”
A troop of men carrying fire hose bumped into the couple and paused to check them out.
Summer wiggled her fingers at one. “Cam, hi.”
The man blinked. “I didn’t think that was really you, Summer. I just left Audrey, Virg and Rory. They’re dispensing coffee and sandwiches from a shipping container we put on its side.”
“You’d better go let Rory know we’re all okay,” Colt urged after Summer made hurried introductions. “If Cam’s heading underground with the next shift, I’ll join his crew. Tell Trace I’ll catch him after the worst of this is mopped up.”
“Sure.” Summer supposed Colt had jumped at the opportunity to skip out on a conversation that made him edgy. But she sensed that he’d been reluctant to leave her, too. His words said one thing, his actions something else entirely. “Promise me you’ll stop the first chance you get and let Audrey give you cream for your cuts, Coltrane.”
He tested the nastiest of his injuries with a sooty finger and nodded briefly.
Watching him stride purposefully away, Summer vowed not to let him slam the door on possibility. Who knew better than she that happiness was fleeting. And as for timing—timing was never good for a rancher.
CHAPTER NINE
BY LATE AFTERNOON, RESCUE efforts fell into a repetitious pattern. Roughly two hundred volunteers in all managed to coordinate activities without stepping on one another’s toes. Summer only saw Colt when he emerged from the tunnel at the end of his shift. It was clear that he threw body and soul into his assignment.
“You still here?” he remarked wearily at about 10:00 p.m.
“I’ll stay the night. I sent Rory home with Audrey and Virgil an hour ago. He has school tomorrow, unless they cancel classes. Virgil fussed about going home but he shouldn’t work around the clock. Anyway, the menagerie, the stock and Lancelot needed to be fed.”
“I’m surprised you were able to make the old guy listen.”
“Audrey deserves the credit. How’s it going in the tunnel? Tracey came in for coffee at eight. He said there are twenty-five men per shift, and you’d dug through almost five hundred feet of soggy grain.”
Colt accepted the steaming cup of coffee and half a sandwich Summer shoved into his hand, along with a jar of Audrey’s cure-all cream for his face. “Progress has improved since a couple of structural engineers got here and implemented techniques to shore up the ceilings. The tunnel is built like a ship’s hull. Luckily, there are air pockets in each compartment. The five men we’ve pulled out so far are alive.”
“How many more are trapped? I heard John Talbot and Kerry Bridges are still missing. Kerry’s wife is frantic. She’s six months pregnant, but she won’t go home. Not that I blame her.”
“I wish we could ease her mind. But the deeper we go inside, the more twisted debris we have to hack through. Rescue efforts could go on for a couple more days. Come.” He jerked his head toward the door. “I need to talk privately.”
Her heart tripping nervously, Summer followed him outside. A bank of lights operated by noisy portable generators lit up the gaping silo with an eerie greenish glow.
“I sent Trace on a mission,” he said. “I happened to overhear two ranchers talking. The granary at the junction is smaller than this one, but they’re accepting grain on a first-come, first-served basis. Trace ought to be there unloading your truck by now. I figure if he cuts and Virgil transports whatever wheat’s still standing, we’ll save a fair portion of your grain.”
Summer crossed her arms and rubbed gooseflesh raised by a cool breeze. “I should have thought of that.” She blinked rapidly. “Honestly, I don’t know where my brain’s been lately.”
Colt clasped her hand and led her into the shadows around the side of the tent. Setting his cup on a pile of boards, he tucked her inside the jacket he’d thrown on after leaving the tunnel. “These are your friends and neighbors, Summer. You’re a co-op member. It stands to reason you’d be worried sick.”
“But the ranch is my first responsibility.” Her words were muffled against the soft fabric of his T-shirt. He smelled of tangy smoke and musky sweat. And she didn’t find it unpleasant because it spelled out the kind of man Coltrane Quinn was. He didn’t have to be here breaking his back, rescuing people he didn’t know.
Summer tightened her arms around his waist and burrowed closer.
“You’ve had it rough recently, but you’ll get through. Hang in there, okay?”
Summer nodded, reveling in his warmth. “I remember my grandfather saying that when you’re a rancher it sometimes seems all the bad things happen at once.”
Her pensive tone touched Colt. At this moment he hated his job with SOS. It was the first time since Marley had saved his sorry hide that he’d felt anything of the kind. In the other case he’d worked on, saving the land from encroaching developers had been much more straightforward because he’d also been dealing with a greedy owner who’d grown tired of the rigors of ranching. That man, like Frank Marsh, had intended to sell out, one way or another.
Summer was different. Her case was different, Colt reminded himself as he pressed his lips against her hair and then her cheek, until he reached her ear. The circumstances of her divorce forced her to comply with Frank’s demand that they liquidate their assets—namely the ranch—so he could take his half in cash.
“I wish you’d found your way to Callanton ten years ago.” She tilted her head, giving Colt’s softly-seeking mouth better access to the exposed skin along her neck. Massaging the tense muscles of his lower back, she issued a tiny sigh.
He growled, or maybe it was a groan. At any rate, he straightened and brushed the edge of his right thumb across the damp trail left by his lips. “Tracey’s uncle says only fools look back and lament what might have been.”
“True. Virgil’s a big one for saying all things happen for a reason. I can’t help thinking each person is given choices, and I seem to have a habit of making bad ones.”
Colt saw wisdom in her casual remark. In opening the door to her heart and letting him in, she was making a very bad choice. He knew that. He ought to bring things to a screeching halt. And yet…
“Coltrane? Is something wrong?”
“Yeah. Timing again. Gotta go,” he said, stepping back. He began smearing Audrey’s medicine on his cuts. “My break’s over. Our team’s due in the tunnel again in five minutes.”
“Please…take care.” Summer rose up to press a last, passion-filled kiss on his lips. Then she sank back on her heels and, as if kissing him was nothing out of the ordinary, darted back inside the tent.
For the remaining thirty-six hours it took to wind down rescue operations, Colt’s mind wrestled with what was right and what was wrong about his relationship with Summer. In the end, he’d amassed far more items in the wrong column than in the right. That should make the decision to back off quite clear and unambiguous.
But should didn’t mean squat.
WHEN IT WAS TIME TO GO home two days later, he only hooked up with Summer because he needed a ride back to the ranch. Despite his wariness, he was determined to be strong enough to keep his distance from her.
“You’re awfully quiet,” she murmured as they left the main highway. He’d said nothing since the moment he’d climbed into the truck. “Thankfully there were no lives lost in the blast. The injured will all eventually heal. Did you hear that a loose bearing on one of the conveyor belts overheated and caused the explosion?”
Colt rolled his head toward her, never lifting it from the headrest. “One of the engineers said it was similar to what occurred in ’98 at a granary in Kansas,” he finally said. “They were up for inspection. Your silos were inspected a week ago. How did they miss something so crucial?”
“I know the inspectors. They’re only human, and people make mistakes, Coltrane. I hate the fact that some people always feel someone has to be blamed for any misfortune.”
“It’s true. I blamed fate for carrying my open parachute off course and into rebel territory, which resulted in my capture and five-year imprisonment. I blamed Monica, my ex-wife, for not believing I’d come back. Her slick lawyer had me declared dead so she could divorce me and sell the ranch. I returned to nothing. No wife, no horses, no ranch.” Colt broke off at Summer’s gasp. He sat up, realizing this was news to her, and that he’d shocked her.
“Coltrane, that’s awful! I had no idea. How did you bear it? Your situation makes mine look rosy. Couldn’t a judge reverse the decision and make her give the money back?”
“She left the country. But we were discussing blame. Don’t you blame Frank for approaching the development company about the ranch?”
Her fingers tightened on the steering wheel. “At some point, a person has to forgive and get on with life. Anyway, is Frank at fault for wanting more from me than I could provide?”
“That’s crap, and you know it. Frank had a wife, a son and a corner of God’s earth worth dying for. He chose to dump what he had and walk away. Monica did the same. They’re rotten human beings. So, yes, they deserve to be blamed.”
“You’re not saying anything I haven’t wrestled with. Yesterday I was unloading casseroles Jesse Cook’s wife brought to the rescue, and I overhead Jill Gardner talking. She’s Frank’s current—uh, live-in….”
“Why would you listen to anything that woman has to say? She stands to gain as much from the sale of the Forked Lightning as Frank does. Just like Monica’s lawyer did.”
“It wasn’t just Jill. Others, too. Women I’ve known all my life. No one disagreed when Jill said my dad made a deal with Frank. Half the ranch for marrying me. I should’ve seen through Frank’s slick lies. I didn’t. Doesn’t that make me partially to blame?”
Colt couldn’t stand seeing how her lips trembled or how dull her beautifully expressive eyes had become. He unsnapped his seat belt and slid across the bench seat to hug her.
She guided the pickup to the side of the gravel road and turned to bury her face in his shoulder. “Damn you, Coltrane Quinn. I don’t want your pity. I don’t—”
He kissed her silent in a way he’d sworn he wouldn’t do. Grasping the back of her head, Colt didn’t let up until she began to whimper and claw at the front of his shirt, tearing at buttons to reach the warm skin over his pounding heart.
Colt eased his grip on the back of her head, only because he was intent on rucking up her shirt to reach her straining breasts. Neither of them noticed she’d left the pickup’s gearshift in drive.
As they focused on each other, the pickup slowly drifted off the gravel shoulder. Caught up in pleasing Summer, Colt felt his control slipping away. He unhooked her bra, and peeled it aside. Their combined quickened breath soon steamed the windows.
Suddenly the pickup lurched and they both slid hard against the driver’s door. Summer screamed and stared dazedly out—directly into swirling water. “My God, Colt!” She flung her arms so tight around his neck she almost choked him in her haste to drag them both back to the passenger side. The truck teetered, slowly righting itself.
Colt tightened his hold on Summer and rode out a second rending bump. Tree branches scraped the front window. Firmly in the grip of passion, Colt didn’t immediately catch on, in spite of the fact that Summer had become hysterical and was trying to restore her clothing. “Coltrane—let go of me! I must have forgotten to set the emergency brake. We’re in the creek. Oh, how in holy heck do we get out of here?”
Once Colt separated her run-together sentences and the truth penetrated his lust-fogged brain, all he could do was throw back his head and laugh.
“It’s not funny!” Doubling her fist, Summer socked him in the arm. Still astride his hips, she scrambled off. The minute she upset the balance, the pickup rocked like a baby’s cradle, forcing her to cling to Colt again.
“It is funny, Summer,” he said, dropping a light kiss on the tip of her nose. “We’re both okay and—”
“But we’re stuck here.”
Colt settled her more firmly onto his lap. “Do we care?” he muttered, and brought her mouth down to his so he could kiss her again.
Sighing, Summer gave in to the growing fire Colt stoked. Their passion was short-lived. A squeal of brakes, followed by a honking horn, intruded.
Again Summer let out a scream. It was,
after all, her bare back against the passenger window. “Oh, no! It’s Rory’s school bus,” she hissed, trying to slide out of sight. “This is so embarrassing.”
Colt halted her mad scramble. Her attempts to button her shirt threatened the tenuous position of the pickup. “Everyone knows we’ve just left four days of round-the-clock rescue. Tell the bus driver you fell asleep at the wheel.”
“What? I did no such thing. You want the whole town to think I’m an irresponsible driver?”
“You’d rather have the whole town knowing we were necking so hot and heavy we ran off the road?”
At last Summer was struck by the humor in their situation. Covering her mouth with both hands, she giggled. “Bernice Reilly, the bus driver, will be too shocked to continue her route. She’s sixty, single, and I’m pretty sure she believes that touching your, uh, private parts makes you go blind. Heaven knows what she thinks will happen to a person who’d dare touch the private parts of someone belonging to the opposite sex.”
“Great,” Colt drawled. There wasn’t anything he could do about the two buttons Summer had ripped off his shirt in her haste to touch his bare chest.
He rolled his window down only far enough to address Bernice. “Tell Rory we’re okay. I’m plumb tuckered from the granary rescue, must’ve drifted off at the wheel,” Colt added, shielding Summer from Bernice’s probing eyes as the lie left his lips. “Have Rory ask Virgil to bring the tractor with the winch down here to pull us out.”
“Far as the road is from the creek, seems to me you’d have woke up in time to regain control….”
Hearing Summer sputter, Colt said in all seriousness, “We admit to a shameless loss of control, ma’am. Could you please hurry that message to Virgil? Mrs. Marsh and I are both beat and anxious to get home for some much-needed rest.”
“Yes, of course. I should have realized—the granary fire. Summer, dear,” Bernice called, “sit tight and I’ll notify Virgil at once.”
Wide Open Spaces (Harlequin Super Romance) Page 15