looked at Kate. “You were out on a night like this in something like that?”
She stuck with the story Parish had given her. “I thought I was going to Shadow Ridge and ended up here.”
“Well, you’re way off the track for Shadow Ridge.”
“Hell and gone from it,” she murmured.
“I’d say so. Now you hold on, and I’ll check in the storage room for the chains,” he said as he stood.
She turned to the man by her, the man she knew was Mac Parish, despite the fact that Carl had called him Kenny. He was taller than she imagined from the pictures, just one more discrepancy in her preconceived ideas about the man. Then again, he’d always been with tall women.
“So, you’re Kenny,” she said, not speaking until he glanced at her so he couldn’t pretend he hadn’t heard her.
He shrugged. “To some.”
“And to others?”
“Whatever they want to call me,” he said, and deliberately turned from her to get closer to the counter. “Carl, I have to get going. I’ll see you later,” he called out to the man in the back room.
“You do that,” the disembodied voice responded.
Then he turned to her, his eyes, a deep, rich hazel. The color she expected. He touched the brim of his hat. “Good luck,” he murmured, and would have moved right past her, out into the night and storm to be gone forever, if she hadn’t acted instinctively and touched his arm.
The rough material of the heavy coat didn’t hide the sudden tensing in him at the contact, and on some level it pleased her. He wasn’t as closed and indifferent to her as he was acting. Whatever, she wasn’t going to let him just walk out after Fate had dropped him in her lap. “I didn’t thank you,” she said quickly, staying firmly between him and the door.
“No need,” he said, then broke their contact to move around her.
The only thing she could have done to stop him right then was throw herself at the door to block his escape. She didn’t think that would be a good idea with this man. Instead, she had to watch him tug his hat lower, pull up the collar of his jacket, then, flashing a glance at her, walk out the door.
“Great, just great,” she muttered, considering running after him for something…anything.
“Bolted, didn’t he,” Carl asked from behind her.
She closed her eyes for a long moment when the headlights of the truck flashed on. He was leaving. She turned to Carl, the only connection she had to Parish now. “He’s in a hurry.”
Carl shrugged. “I’m surprised he stopped to help you.”
She moved closer to the counter. Carl was obviously friends with Parish. He’d know something. “I’m glad he did.”
“The Kenny I grew up with would have helped anyone just like his dad did. But he changed after he came back.”
“Came back?”
“He left for a while, went to California.” Carl shrugged. “And when Kenny came back to that mess…” He exhaled. “That’d change anybody.”
That mess? She’d struck gold. “What happened?”
Before she could ask anything else, the door swung open and cold air rushed into the shop. “Talk of the devil,” Carl murmured as he looked past her. “That was fast.”
Kate turned as the door slammed shut. Parish was there, snow on his Stetson and shoulders. She felt like jumping up and down for joy, but one look at his face, and she knew he wasn’t happy at all. But she’d do whatever it took to keep him right here.
Chapter Three
Mac stood in the middle of the room, cold and wet, clutching the cell phone and charging cord that Katherine had left in the truck. He’d almost driven off, but it had fallen on the floor when he’d started out. Now he was back where he didn’t want to be. Involved. He worked at not being involved. His life was involved enough to keep him busy without any outside force intruding on it. Something in him felt as if with one slip on his part, this woman could be very involving. He’d make this fast and get out.
It was the first total look he’d had of Katherine, tall and leggy in a blue corduroy jacket, slim-fitting jeans and boots that would probably fall apart in snow, not any sort of protection. He looked up and met her gaze.
That was another thing he’d hadn’t seen in the truck. Her eyes. They were the greenest eyes he’d ever seen, thickly lashed, set in a finely boned oval face. There were freckles on the small, straight nose. Just a few. He hadn’t noticed them before, either. And her hair, an almost silvery blond, wasn’t done in any fancy way, just pulled straight back from her oval face into a single braid that fell down her back.
It had been a long time since he’d noticed a woman. And now wasn’t the time to start. He held out the phone to her, and when she didn’t step forward to take it, he moved closer to put it in her hand. The heat was there, on the fingers that brushed his, and he jerked, almost dropping the phone. Then she had it and stepped back, stirring the air around him.
Over the grease and hint of gasoline in the shop, he caught a whiff of something that had been there in the truck. A fragrance from somewhere in his past, but he had no memory to pin it on.
“Boy, I’m glad you came back,” Carl was saying, and Mac forced his gaze from the woman to the man. “I don’t have chains to fit her car. Not one set,” Carl said.
All Mac wanted to do was get out of there and go home. “I guess you’ll have to order them,” he said, then looked at Katherine. “Have a safe trip.”
She frowned at him. “Have a safe trip? You…you’re the one who told me I can’t drive anywhere without chains, so I guess a trip is out, isn’t it, safe or otherwise.”
For some reason she seemed angry at him, as if he controlled the weather or Carl’s chain supply. He should have driven right past her car in the first place. And he wasn’t going to argue with her now. “That was just a pleasantry, not a command.”
Her frown deepened. “Easy for you to joke about this,” she muttered.
When had this shifted to an argument with a woman he didn’t even know? He was leaving. But before he could turn and walk away, Carl was speaking. “Without chains, she’s stuck, Kenny. She ain’t going farther then right here.”
Now Carl was acting as if he should have answers for this. What was he supposed to do? She had someone named James who could work this out for her, and neither Carl nor Katherine needed his input. “Use Carl’s phone and call James.” The words were too abrupt, too harsh, but he didn’t try to soften them. “Let him figure it out for you.”
That logic didn’t seem to help at all. “What can he do?” She shook her head as she pushed her phone and cord into her purse. “He couldn’t get here.”
“Maybe he can send
