by Linda Warren
He pulled the truck over to the side of the road to figure out what to do next. And then his headlights picked up a shimmer of light. He turned the truck in that direction, and that’s when he saw it. A blue car had slid off the road and hit a tree.
He pulled the hood of his coat over his head and slipped on his gloves. With a flashlight in his hand, he got out of the truck and ran to the car, being very careful about his steps. The wind slapped at him, and the icy temperature made him glad he had on his long johns.
There were a lot of baby things in the back seat. He looked around at the darkness. Nothing and no one. He had to figure this out and fast. Since he didn’t see anyone around the car, they had to have crossed the broken barbed-wire fence and walked straight up the small hill to Grandpa’s house. He couldn’t figure out why the driver didn’t stay with the baby.
He stepped over the fence, shining the light, and saw nothing but ice-covered weeds and grass. The wind stung his face, but he kept walking.
“Hey, anybody out there?” he called over and over with no response.
He could see the light from Grandpa’s house from where he stood. The driver had to be close. That’s when he saw someone sprawled on the grass facedown. Oh, man!
He fell down beside them and tried to find a pulse, but the woman had on so many clothes. She was soaked from the sleet, and he had to get her to shelter. Supporting her neck, he gently tried to turn her over.
She moaned, and relief washed over him. She was alive!
“Can you hear me?”
A fur-lined hood was over her head, and a thick scarf covered her face up to her nose, so all he could see were her eyes, and he couldn’t even see those very clearly.
“Can you hear me?”
“O-h.”
“Talk to me.”
A gloved hand went to her head. “Stop yelling at me.”
“Listen, lady, we don’t have—”
Suddenly, she sat up straight and looked around. “Where’s Zoe? Where’s Zoe?”
“She’s safe, and now we have to get you out of this weather.”
“Where is she?”
Cole got to his feet. “I’ll explain later. Right now we have to go. Can you stand?”
She tried, but she couldn’t.
“Can you hold the flashlight?”
“Y-yes.”
He lifted her into his arms and carried her toward the fence to the truck. She held the light so he could see. When they reached the truck, he asked, “Do you think you can stand?” The wind grabbed his words and threw them into the darkness, but she heard them.
“Yes.”
He carefully lowered her to her feet, and they were in the truck in minutes. Turning up the heat, he said, “I’ll get your things out of the car.”
“Thank you,” she muttered through chattering teeth.
He had to get her home and soon. He jammed all of the baby stuff and the suitcases into the back of his truck. He didn’t know where she was headed, but she was prepared to stay awhile.
* * *
GRACE BENNETT SHIVERED from head to toe. She was so cold, but she had to concentrate. She had to focus. This man had just saved her life and, yet, she was nervous. He had a commanding voice, like he’d been in the military or something. She didn’t know him, and she didn’t know where he was taking her. Unsettling thoughts floated through her head, and sleep pulled at her brain. But one thing was persistently tapping her consciousness.
“Where’s Zoe?”
“She’s at my grandpa’s house. You can see the light through the trees.”
She remembered seeing the light and making the decision to walk there to safety and warmth. But it didn’t make sense why Zoe was there and she wasn’t.
“How did she get there?”
The man looked at her, and she noticed his eyes were bright blue. “You took her there. What I don’t understand is why you didn’t stay instead of going back to the car.”
She shook her head. “No.” Her thoughts became clear. “I didn’t make it to the house. I bundled Zoe and myself up and then I started walking up the hill. I slipped on the icy grass, but I had the carrier tight in my right arm. My last thought was I had to keep her safe.”
“I think you’re disoriented. The baby was left at the front door of my grandpa’s house.”
“I wouldn’t leave her out in the cold at a stranger’s house.” The words came out angry between chattering teeth. She was so cold.
“We’ll sort this out later. My goal now is to get you someplace warm. I’m sure you have hypothermia, so just sit tight and you’ll see your daughter in a minute.”
Daughter. Tears welled in her eyes. By fleeing she’d put both their lives in jeopardy. But she couldn’t stay in Austin. If she had, they would’ve taken Zoe away from her. She would do anything to keep that from happening, even butting heads with this take-control stranger.
She just hoped he wasn’t a cop.
CHAPTER TWO
COLE MANAGED TO get the woman into the house. She walked into the den and went straight to Grandpa and the baby. They were both asleep with a blanket thrown over them.
“Zoe,” she whispered and reached over and kissed the baby’s forehead, waking Grandpa.
“What are you doing?”
“This is the baby’s mother,” Cole told his grandfather.
“Well, be quiet or you’re going to wake her.”
“Is she okay?”
Grandpa clutched the baby closer. “Fine as a tuned fiddle on Saturday night.”
“W-hat?”
“It means the baby’s fine. Grandpa talks funny sometimes. You’ll adjust.”
“Oh.”
Cole guided the woman to Grandma’s chair. He thought a second before he did that, because the chair was like a shrine and he didn’t know how Grandpa would react. But he threw caution to the wind and hoped nothing got thrown back at him.
“That’s your grandma’s chair,” Grandpa pointed out.
“I know, but she’s not sitting in it.” Cole walked into the kitchen to get his medical kit.
“I don’t want to be a bother,” the woman said.
“You’re not a bother,” Cole told her. “I have to take your temperature, and you need to get out of those wet clothes.”
“Oh. Okay.” She seemed disoriented.
She stood and wiggled out of something that looked like a snowsuit, as if she was going skiing. She was well insulated against the weather, and that appeared suspicious to him. He quickly shifted his focus—the woman needed help now.
He poked the thermometer in her mouth. “That suit protected you,” he commented, as he waited. After removing the thermometer, he added, “Your temperature is ninety-five. We have to get you warm. Sit in the chair and I’ll get blankets.”
“My clothes beneath aren’t wet,” she called after him as she folded the suit and laid it neatly beside the chair with her boots and gloves. Rascal sniffed at the items and then went back to his bed.
In a minute he was back with blankets. “First, I need to check your hands and feet to make sure you don’t have frostbite.”
She held out her hands. Her fingers were long and her nails were bitten almost to the quick. But the color was good, and her nails were clear. Stephanie always had polished nails. It was a luxury she would never do without.
He squatted in front of the woman to check her feet and waited for her to remove her socks. She had on three pairs, and once again he wondered about her clothing. Her toes were good. No frostbite.
“Are you hurting anywhere?”
Her hand touched her head. “I bumped my head when the car hit the tree.”
He stood and looked at the bruise that was slowly turning blue. “It looks superficial, but it’s gonna hurt tomorrow.” He reached into the medical kit. “I need
to check your eyes.”
Her pupils were clear. No concussion. One thing caught his attention—her eyes were dark. Very dark. They reminded him of the time he and his friend Bo had unearthed an old well on Bo’s grandfather’s property. Looking into the long, deep hole, all he could see was pitch-black darkness, very similar to the woman’s eyes. Lying on their bellies staring in the hole, Cole and Bo wondered what was at the bottom. They fantasized that it might be money that someone had stolen and had stored there. They came up with all kinds of crazy ideas like teenagers do. One thing they agreed on was the well held a lot of secrets.
What secrets was this woman holding?
* * *
GRACE CURLED UP in the chair with a blanket and quilt the man had given her. The fire was so warm, and her body began to relax and the shivering eased. She had no idea where she was, but Zoe was safe and warm.
She looked around at the house. It was a nice older home with a big den, dining room, kitchen and breakfast room, kind of an open floor plan. The photos on the wall drew her attention. They all seemed to be of the same person from the day he was born until adulthood. They were everywhere and they weren’t of the take-charge guy, but there was a resemblance.
He’d called the old man Grandpa, so they must be grandfather and grandson. She kept waiting for a woman to come out of one of the rooms but then realized she was alone with two men in a strange house. Oddly, that didn’t make her nervous. It just made her leery. The take-charge guy had helped her, and she would always be grateful for that. But she had to find a way out of here.
“What happened to you?” the old man asked. His voice was rough and teetered on the edge of grouchiness.
“I was driving slow and my car started to skid and I couldn’t stop it.”
“You shouldn’t have been out in this weather,” he growled from deep within his chest. His voice no longer teetered on the edge of grouchiness. It was full-blown and right smack-dab in her face. She remained calm, though.
“I was going to Dallas to spend Thanksgiving with my aunt. I thought I could make it before the weather broke.” That was the biggest lie she’d ever told, but she was getting good at lying. “I’m just glad Zoe’s okay.”
“No divine intervention at all,” the take-charge guy said as he brought in her suitcases.
“You don’t know that,” the older man snapped at his grandson.
“Yes, I do.”
“Ah, you don’t believe nothin’.”
What were they talking about? Divine intervention?
Before she could unscramble her thoughts, the old man pounced again. “What kind of name is Zoe?”
“Grandpa!”
“Well, I’ve never heard of such a name.”
“You haven’t heard of a lot of things.”
“Don’t be disrespectful. Your grandma is watching.”
Grace looked around, but she didn’t see Grandma, and for a moment she thought she’d been dropped into the twilight zone.
“I’m gonna give her a better name,” the old man went on.
“Grandpa...”
“I’m gonna call her Grace.”
Goose bumps popped up on her skin. How did he know her name? She sank farther into the blankets. “Her name is Zoe Grace.”
The two men stared at each other, and the silence stretched all the way to Dallas. Finally, take-charge guy said, “What did you say?”
“Her name is Zoe Grace. My name is Grace. Grace Bennett.” The words left her mouth before she could stop them. She’d given her real name, and she hadn’t meant to do that. But she would be gone from here just as soon as she could.
“Told you,” the old man said with a touch of glee in his voice.
She had no idea what he was so happy about.
Take-charge guy shook his head. “I’m Cole Chisholm, and this is my grandpa Walter Chisholm. You’re welcome to stay here for the night, and tomorrow you can call someone to come get you. Just be prepared for a little insanity to be mixed in with reality.”
“Thank you.” There was only one person she could call—her friend Frannie—and she would do that just as quickly as she could. But Frannie didn’t drive. And Grace wasn’t going back to Austin. Her nerves tangled up like a knotted rope. She had the night to think about a plan, and by morning she would have one.
Zoe woke up and looked around. At the unfamiliar place, tears welled in her eyes and she stuck out her bottom lip. Grace was immediately on her feet. “I’m here. I’m here.”
She scooped up the baby and sat back in the recliner. “It’s okay.” She rocked her gently so she wouldn’t be afraid. But deep down, Grace was more afraid than she’d ever been in her whole life. How was she going to get out of this mess?
* * *
“COLE, WHAT ARE you cooking for supper?”
Cole brought the rest of the woman’s things into the house, and supper was the last thing on his mind. But Grandpa was one of those right-now kind of guys. Patience was a foreign attribute.
He placed a baby swing against the wall. “I was thinking sandwiches.”
“Sandwiches? Your grandma never fixed sandwiches for supper.”
Cole straightened—tiredness pulled at every joint in his body, and a cranky old man was revving up the pain. “What are you talking about? She made sandwiches all the time.”
“But she made it seem like a meal.”
“Well, think of it as a meal.”
“Ah, you don’t know how to cook.”
Grace stood with the baby in her arms, the blankets falling to the floor. “I’ll fix something.”
“You’ve been in an accident, and you need to rest,” Cole told her.
“I’m fine, really.” She grabbed the baby swing from the wall and opened it up. “Zoe loves to swing, and I’ll fix supper.”
“Bring her over here,” Grandpa instructed, and Grace put the baby in the swing in front of him. “I’ll talk to her.”
Cole shrugged. “He’s...”
“I know,” she said as if she could read his thoughts. “I’ll see what you have that I can fix quickly.”
He followed her into the kitchen. “With this wind and the freezing temperature, the lights are probably going to go out.”
“Where are we?” she asked, opening the refrigerator.
“Horseshoe, Texas.”
“I’ve never heard of it.”
“It’s a small community of farming and ranching families.”
“Oh.”
His phone buzzed, and he pulled it out of his pocket. Stephanie. “I have to take this.”
“Sure. You have ham and cheese, so I’ll just make hot sandwiches.”
“Good.”
“Do you have any potatoes?”
He pointed to the pantry and walked to the end of the living room to talk. Grandpa was cooing at the baby. “What’s up, Steph?”
“Nothing. I just forgot to remind you about Thanksgiving. Is that a baby I hear?”
“Yeah. There was a wreck on the highway, and I rescued a woman and her baby and brought them to Grandpa’s house.” He didn’t want to explain any more about the baby. He was confused enough about that.
“What are they doing there?”
“The wreck happened close to the house, and the weather was too bad to do anything else. I’m sure relatives will pick her up tomorrow.”
There was a long pause. “What does the woman look like? Is she young or old?”
“What difference does it make?”
“Cole...”
He gritted his teeth. “Probably in her late twenties.”
“What does she look like?”
“Steph, what’s up with the questions? I deal with women every day, and there’s no reason...”
“Cole...”
“I haven’t looked that good at
her. I had other things on my mind, like saving her life.”
“Well, look.”
He had two options: he could click off or answer her question. He and Stephanie got along great and enjoyed being together. Lately, though, he’d been feeling a little tension between them, and he chalked that up to his grandmother’s death and his loyalty to his grandfather. He wanted her to know that she didn’t have to worry about other women. He wasn’t like that.
Against his better judgment, he looked at Grace in the kitchen. She was standing at the stove and turned to get something out of the refrigerator. “She has dark eyes and hair and is an average-looking woman.” And fills out a pair of jeans like a Corvette fills out a showroom. Oh, man! Where did the thought come from? He had no interest in Grace.
“That makes me feel better.”
Why did you make me look? He would never understand women.
“I’ve got to go.”
“Remember you’re coming to my parents’ for Thanksgiving. You promised.”
He closed his eyes as if he was in pain. “I’m not sure, Steph. Depends on my grandfather. I can’t leave him alone.”
“You said his neighbor brings him food. Maybe she can sit with him. I really want you to meet my parents.”
The obvious solution was for Stephanie to invite his grandfather, but the offer wasn’t forthcoming.
“Cole, please. This is important for us.”
“Thanksgiving is almost a week away. I’ll talk to you about it later.” He clicked off before she could say another word. He took a moment to regain his composure. Since his grandmother’s death, he felt like a wishbone between his grandfather and Stephanie. They both were pulling at him, and the urge to get out from between them and run was strong, as it had been so many times in his life. But he was older now, and running wasn’t an option. He had to make a stand for what he wanted. He just didn’t know what that was.
“Supper,” Grace called as if she’d been cooking for them for years.
Grandpa played with Zoe; she flailed her arms at him. Baby giggles erupted, and Grandpa laughed at her antics. Cole hadn’t heard his grandpa laugh in a long time, at least not around Cole’s grandmother. Grandma never laughed. He’d learned that a long time ago. After Cole’s father’s death, there was no happiness in the Chisholm household.