drunk laughed, then swung a meaty fist at Cole. Drunk or sober, Brady wasn’t a match for a man who’d gotten damn tired of seeing his sister bullied. One swift left hook, and the big man staggered, then dropped to the ground. Blood pooled around his mouth, and bloodshot eyes rolled back in his head.
Cole glanced up to see the blonde hand Ben a twenty. “Would you call me a cab?”
“A cab? Out here?” Ben looked out the front window, then shook his head slowly. “Could take the rest of the afternoon, but I’ll give it a try.”
A flash of lightning cracked across the sky, and Cole ambled toward the woman who had helped his sister. “Don’t bother with a cab. I’ll give you a ride.”
When the thunder rolled, she worried her lip.
“I’m Cole McAdams, Kerri-Leigh’s brother. She’d want me to look after you.”
She glanced up at him with expressive green eyes. Worry and relief seemed to battle inside the emerald depths, then she sighed softly. “Kerri-Leigh said you were a nice guy.”
Ben cleared his throat and handed her money back. “Ain’t no one more honorable than Cole McAdams, ma’am. You can trust him.”
She nodded slowly, then tucked a long strand of golden hair behind her ear.
“Where are you headed?” Cole asked, not giving her a chance to change her mind. The sky had been darkening since noon. He could smell the rain coming and sensed an especially fierce torrent.
“To town, I guess. I need a room for the night.”
Another lightning bolt lit the room, followed by the roar of thunder. And as if the sky had opened up, the rain began to pour.
“Storm’s here,” Ben said. “And it’s flash-flood season.”
Cole figured he could get the woman to town before the road washed out, but he doubted he could make it back to the ranch. “I’ve got a spare room. You can stay at my place.”
She seemed reluctant, then looked over her shoulder at the lighted television screen over the bar. She shot a wounded glance his way. “All right. But just for tonight.”
Cole nodded. “I introduced myself, but you haven’t.”
Green eyes, large, luminous and doelike pierced his. “Laurie,” she said softly. “Laurie Smith.”
He sensed a courageous vulnerability about her and wanted to ease her mind. “I appreciate you helping my sister, Laurie.”
She offered a warm but weary smile. “She tried to climb out the ladies’ room window. I couldn’t help her squeeze through, so I came up with another plan.”
“You loaned her your car, too, didn’t you?”
She nodded. “When Brady bellowed at me, I must admit the whole idea seemed more than a little foolish. He’s a pretty scary guy.” She glanced at the prostrate form. “Although he doesn’t look so menacing now.”
“Barroom brawls aren’t anything new to Brady Wilson. He’s been in one scrap or another since he outgrew diapers.” Cole smiled, then nodded toward the door. “Come on. We’ve got to get out of here. The rain’s already starting to come down pretty hard.”
“I need to get my bags from the ladies’ room,” she said.
When she returned, a black canvas bag slung over her shoulder, Ben’s wife, Evie, called from the kitchen. “Just a minute. I’ve got your sandwich ready.”
“Thank you.” Laurie collected a brown bag from Evie, and handed the woman a ten-dollar bill. “Keep the change.”
She followed Cole outside, and they paused under the porch roof, watching the rain stream down.
“Wait here,” Cole said. “I’ll get the door.”
He hurried through the parking lot, climbed into his red Chevy, then leaned across the seat and opened the passenger door for her.
“Nice truck,” she said, climbing inside.
“Thanks.”
As Cole backed out of the parking lot and pulled onto the highway, he turned the radio on low. He slid a glance at Laurie. She sat quietly on her side of the truck, nearly hugging the door as though they’d drawn a chalk line down the center. Awkward and cautious. He figured they both felt the same way.
He stole another glance as she peeked into the brown bag Ben had given her, then folded it shut and leaned against the window. She blinked before slowly closing her eyes.
Too tired to eat, he surmised. There was a lot she hadn’t told him. And probably never would. Of course, her worries and her past weren’t any of his business. But she had stepped in to help Kerri-Leigh in a move that might have saved his sister’s life. When drunk, Brady had leveled men twice Kerri-Leigh’s size. And the last time he’d lost his temper with Kerri-Leigh, she’d ended up in the hospital and he in jail.
No telling what Brady would have done to her this time. Thank God—and the stranded woman sitting beside him— Kerri-Leigh had got away before Brady had the chance to lay a hand on her.
Again Cole studied the pretty woman on the other side of the seat. Thick dark lashes rested upon her cheeks. She didn’t look a thing like his sister—not up close. Kerri-Leigh had freckles across the bridge of an upturned nose and distinct dark brows. Laurie, her complexion soft and flawless, boasted an aristocratic nose and delicate, light brows that arched perfectly.
And where Kerri-Leigh was round and soft, Laurie was long and lean. Too thin, if you asked Cole. Fashionable, maybe, but he’d always liked the soft feel of a real woman, not a willowy, reed-thin model.
The soft feel of a woman? What in tarnation was wrong with him? He had no business even thinking of this woman in a physical sense. Laurie Smith was a stranger, in his life for a day or so, then on her way.
The faint, musky scent of an exotic floral perfume began to fill the cab, drawing his attention to the blond head resting against the passenger window. She had fallen asleep, her breath fogging the glass.
Laurie Smith, she’d called herself, but Cole didn’t buy it. Not for a minute. He tried to remind his skeptical side that this stranger had helped his sister. And if she held on to her own secrets, that was her business. He had his own problems to worry about. He’d won the first round of the custody battle, but according to his lawyer, there were more battles to come.
Rain beat down upon the roof, then streamed along the windows. Cole hoped they could make it through the dry river bottom before the road washed out.
The windshield wipers squeaked and swished back and forth across the rain-sloshed glass. Cole turned up the volume of the radio, and the mournful sounds of a fiddle filled the cab.
Then a slow Southern voice began to sing the praises of a honky-tonk hero.
Laurie felt a tapping on her shoulder and awoke with a jump. She blinked twice before realizing she sat inside Cole McAdams’s truck.
Outside,
