from the surrounding countryside to turn a profit. So, right after the wedding, with the blessings of his brothers and sister-in-law, Jake had the foundation poured for a shop that he was building at the very edge of the road fronting the ranch property, only a few hundred yards from the house. While doing much of the building himself and keeping a close eye on his budget, he was quickly acquiring building materials and inventory. If the shop was up and running within the next month or so, he should have enough of his dwindling savings left to see him through until the business fulfilled expectations.
With his mind full of lists and plans, he didn’t notice the old car beside the road until he was right on it. A woman was bent over the front fender of the little coupe, her head hidden by the raised hood, one tennis shoe kicked up into the air and her long full skirt rising to the backs of her knees. Jake knew instantly that he had to stop. Already hotter than ninety degrees with a high in triple digits predicted, it was too hot to be stranded on the side of the road, and out here the next vehicle might be long in coming.
He brought the big pickup truck to a grinding halt beside the two-lane pavement, well ahead of the stranded car. Shifting the transmission into Park with one hand, he rolled down all the windows with the other before killing the engine. “Don’t you get out of your seat,” he instructed Frankie. “I’ll be right back. I’m just going to help this lady.”
Frankie leaned forward and craned his neck, looking behind them. “What lady?”
“Don’t know,” Jake replied, reaching for the pale straw cowboy hat on the passenger seat. “Looks like her car broke down.”
He got out, settled his hat on his head and pushed his sunshades farther up on his nose, wishing he’d taken the time to shave that morning. The coal-dark dusting of beard on his cheeks, jaws and upper lip always made him look rough and undisciplined, or so his late wife, Jolene, had said. He didn’t want to scare this poor woman any more than she likely already was.
Jolene, like him, had been military. If she hadn’t died in a training accident, they’d still be soldiers together, army from the tops of their heads to the soles of their feet. That was a tough life for a single father, however.
He approached the hissing car with a smile for a greeting, only to find that his damsel in distress had retreated into her vehicle. Lifting his eyebrows, he casually strolled up to the driver’s window and tapped on the glass.
“Howdy.” He gestured to the raised hood of her car. “Got a little trouble, I see. How about I take a look?”
For a long moment, she just stared at him with wide, forest green eyes. Then she folded in her lips and bit them. Finally, she rolled down the window a half inch or so.
“I don’t know you.”
He put out his hand. “Jacoby Smith, from Loco Man Ranch. Most folks call me Jake.”
She didn’t lower the window. Instead, she stared at him, biting her lips in what was obviously a nervous habit. He gestured toward the hood of her car again.
“I’m going to take a look.” Without giving her a chance to object, he stepped to the front of the car and began to take stock. “Can you start it?”
After a moment, she turned the key. It didn’t take long for him to diagnose the problem. He went to the window again, finding that she’d lowered it all the way, finally.
Fanning herself with her hand, she spoke before he had a chance to do so. “I suppose you’re Dodd’s kin.”
“That’s right. He was our uncle.”
She stopped fanning and squinted up at him. “I was sorry to hear he’d passed.”
“Thanks. My brothers and I were fond of the old boy.”
“You’d be one of those three nephews who used to spend summers with him, then.”
“Right again. And you are?”
“Fine,” she said quickly. “I’m fine.” Her dusky pink lips formed the words even as her gaze cut to the hood of her car. “Just need some water for the radiator, I think.”
Jake shook his head, irritated that she wouldn’t give him her name. Unlike so many others he’d met in the area, she wasn’t exactly a friendly sort, but she needed help. More than she knew.
“I think you’ve blown a head gasket. At least.”
“You can’t possibly know that for sure,” she scoffed, a hint of desperation in her voice.
“I’ve seen it many times. I happen to be a mechanic.”
She made a face, as if to say that only made his opinion more suspect.
“Look,” he snapped, “I’m not out here trying to drum up business.”
“Then why’d you stop?” she shot back, turning her head away. “You don’t know me.”
Recognizing the sound of impending tears, Jake pulled in a slow, calming breath. “I stopped,” he said evenly, “because no one should be left stranded beside the road in this heat. Is there anyone you can call for a lift?”
She thought for a minute, biting her lips, and shook her head.
He raised his hands, palms up, in a gesture meant to convey that they were out of options. “My son and I will be glad to give you a ride.”
Sniffing, she eyed him suspiciously. “I didn’t see anyone else in the truck.”
“He’s three,” Jake gritted out, reaching deep for patience. “You ought to be able to see the top of his car seat at least.”
She stuck her head out the window and studied the truck. Her thick, dark gold hair parted in the middle of her head and swung in a jaunty, ragged flip two or three inches above her shoulders. Sinking into the car again, she tucked the sun-kissed strands behind a dainty ear and muttered, “Oh, yes. I see that now.”
Heat radiated up off the pavement in blistering waves. Jake pushed back the brim of his hat. “We can take you wherever you need to go.”
She lifted her chin, swallowing hard and exposing her long, sleek neck and the delicate skin of her throat in the process. Jake’s chest tightened. He told himself it was concern, the fear that she was going to send him away, though he was her only immediate source of help. During his first deployment, he’d developed the habit of speaking silently to the Lord in moments of need, and this was one of those moments.
Lord, You’d better zap some sense into her. It’s not safe for her to sit out here in this heat. Even worse if she tries to walk wherever she’s headed.
To his relief, she slowly opened the car door and got out, slinging a large fabric bag over one shoulder. She was taller than he’d expected, and her blouse, worn over a full gray skirt, was of the medical variety, like the top half of a scrub suit. A muted green, it crisscrossed in front and tied at the side, creating a V neckline that exposed a dainty but prominent collarbone.
“In case you forgot, my name’s Jacoby Smith. Jake.”
“Jake,” she whispered in acknowledgment. “Kathryn Stepp.”
“Nice
