by the sedan. The train barreled on, the noise waning in the distance. For a fleeting moment she wished she could run after it. Instead she was left to cobble together her own escape plan. There was no convenient cover nearby, no structures to hide behind or even trees to conceal her.
The cowboy took a few steps toward the stranger’s idling car. “I said get out of the vehicle, mister, unless you want your tires flattened,” he shouted again.
While both men were distracted, she should run. But her shaky legs would not cooperate. She clung to the car door, trying to steady her nerves.
A half second later the sedan jerked into Reverse, squealed backward until the driver peeled around and floored it, receding into the distance.
“Coward,” she heard the cowboy say.
The sound of his boots plowing through the grass toward her car made her pulse ratchet even higher.
What should she do? What would Tammy do?
He stopped at the other side of her car, silent. More movement sounded in the still night and, all of a sudden, a sturdy white dog raced around the side of the car and barked.
She screamed.
At the sound, the animal lunged forward, swabbed a wet tongue over her forehead and sat, tail wagging.
A hysterical squeal rose to her lips but she kept it in. The boots came closer, until the cowboy rounded the front fender of her car.
“And you teased me about my driving,” he said. A strong Southern accent colored his words though she could not make out his features, only the hint of a wide chin and a cowboy hat.
What is he talking about? Teased him?
“Tam?” he said. “You’ve got some explaining to do.”
Tam. The pieces fell into place. This had to be Liam Pike, Tammy’s ex-boyfriend.
She leaned her dog-dampened forehead against the metal. What were the chances she’d hit town, nearly get driven off the road, narrowly avoid being hit by a train and finish up by running into her sister’s ex?
The dog let loose with a howl.
Maggie felt like doing the same.
Liam rested the rifle on his shoulder, frustration and confusion warring inside. Wouldn’t have been prudent or safe to take a shot and risk return fire with his horse nearby, a nutty dog and Tammy in the vicinity. Still, he would have felt a surge of satisfaction at shooting out the guy’s tires. It would’ve been easy; he was an expert marksman. At least he wasn’t losing hold on that.
He reached out a hand and helped her up, her palm freezing cold in his. Tammy Lofton. He’d always admired her impulsivity, the unfettered abandon with which she approached life, but this was sheer recklessness and just plain nuts.
“What in the world are you playing at, Tammy?” Saying her name aloud brought back the anger he’d felt at being unceremoniously dumped for another guy; a computer programmer she’d met when applying for a new job. That stung. “You could have been killed or caused a train wreck.”
He realized she’d backed up, palms half raised as if he was an approaching mountain lion. He stopped, blew out a breath and tried for a calmer tone.
“Tammy, it’s Liam. Sorry if I scared you. Tell me why that guy is after you. Must be something bad to rile you into forgetting there’s a train crossing.”
She didn’t answer, just stood there frozen.
“Liam,” she finally said, almost making it sound like a question. Poor light, scary situation, confusion. Understandable.
“Yeah,” he said bitterly. “Glad you remembered my name. Least you can do since we dated for four months. How’s the computer programmer?”
“What?” Her voice was softer than he remembered, or maybe he’d begun to lose another level of hearing.
“Did you hit your head?” He felt a glimmer of alarm creeping in. “Tam? You okay?”
“Yes, of course I am. Why did you jump in the road like that?”
“Why...?” He rubbed a palm over his stubbled chin as he struggled for calm. “’Cuz I thought you were gonna crash into the train, that’s why,” he snapped. “I don’t generally welcome people to Driftwood with a rifle in my hand.”
But she wasn’t even listening. Instead she was inspecting the ruined tire of the Vette. Then she lifted her face to the evening breeze, turning it in the direction of the ocean. She was clearly working out some sort of plan.
“I’m sorry,” she said simply.
Was that all she had said or had he missed some? He wasn’t feeling like asking her to repeat herself. “Sorry doesn’t quite cut it, Tammy. What’s going on?” He eased back on his heels and something bumped his leg. He stumbled, winding up on the ground, staring up into the face of Jingles.
Jingles placed a crooked paw on Liam’s chest.
“Jingles,” Liam yelled. The dog responded by swabbing his face with a warm tongue until Liam finally pushed him off. Jingles sat back, tail skimming the ground in happy lashes. Liam hauled himself to his feet and gathered up the rifle he’d dropped. “Can’t ya see I’m in the middle of a situation here?”
Jingles barked.
Liam ignored him this time and ordered a thunderous, “Stay.”
He turned back, flabbergasted to find that Tammy had gone, headed off into the night, leaving her disabled Corvette behind.
He looked across the field to where she must have headed: the fog-shrouded beach. “What’s gotten into you, Tammy?”
He almost smiled. She should know him well enough to realize she’d piqued both his concern and his curiosity. And Liam Pike had never been one to ignore either.
He whistled once, low and soft, which brought Streak to the fence on quiet hooves. Jingles was on his feet now, too, bottom waggling right along with his tail, apparently convinced his services were needed.
“Just try not to fall off a cliff, okay?”
Jingles barked once and then took up a position behind the horse.
Maggie was grateful there was just enough moonlight glowing through the coastal fog to help her orient herself. She was heading west, toward the beach and the lighthouse. Directly east, near where she’d spun out, must be the vast acreage of the Roughwater Ranch. That explained Liam’s arrival. She’d only heard bits and pieces from Tammy, enough to know that their relationship “had no legs,” whatever that meant. Imagine running into the guy. He, too, thought she was her sister, thanks to the
