like being tracked down during her “free time.” Eager to avoid a situation she was likely to consider an intrusion, he asked casually, “Have you tried calling her cell?”
Emmett nodded grimly, squinting at the rural highway barely visible in the distance. Overhead, no stars were discernible. Along the horizon, there were violent flashes of jagged yellow light, and the wind had started whipping up, making the cattle nervous.
“I imagine her phone is either turned off or she’s out of range of a tower.”
She was fine.
It wasn’t like she needed him to rush to her rescue and wrap his arms around her. Even though, Matt admitted to himself, that was a tempting fantasy.
Aware that his dad was still weighing the advisability of going after her, Matt consulted his watch and tried to talk sense into him. “It’s only nine-thirty, Dad.”
It just seemed as if she’d been gone forever.
Emmett rubbed his wrist, as if it were hurting him. “The stores all close at nine.”
“Maybe’s she grabbing a late dinner.”
Or avoiding an early return by taking in a movie or hanging out at the Lone Star Dance Hall in Laramie. Both were pleasant ways to while away a stiflingly hot summer evening. The latter, especially, if Jen was looking for a little action….
Emmett took his car keys out of his pocket with a hand that shook slightly. “I’m going to go out and drive the road to town, anyway,” he announced with typical gallantry.
Matt didn’t want to think about his dad driving in the rain, with the moon all but obscured by the heavy cloud cover. The faint but distinct rumble of thunder was now audible. He shoved his own reluctance aside. “I’ll go. You stay here and man the phones in case Jen is in some kind of trouble.”
“Drive the entire route,” Emmett ordered. “Both of them!”
Matt nodded. He would, if only to keep his dad from getting further entangled.
* * *
I SHOULD HAVE checked the radiator before I left. At the very least refilled all the water bottles, Jen thought.
But she hadn’t.
She had simply hopped in her van and driven thirty minutes into Laramie, in the scorching hundred and ten degree heat. Her carelessness, coupled with the evaporation in a van that had been sitting in the full sun all day, with a growing leak in the radiator, had triggered the Check Engine light.
Halfway back to the Triple B, Jen had been forced to pull over into the nearest safe place—the middle of a field, just off the highway—and lift the hood, lest the van catch fire.
It was as she feared. The radiator had been bone-dry, the engine sizzling hot. Jen had poured the half bottle of water she had with her over both, then tried to call for help.
Only to find she was too far from a cell tower to get a signal.
Because it was already getting dark, and she could see storm clouds gathering in the distance, she had decided to climb back in the van and wait for help.
Only help hadn’t come.
And now, at nearly 10:00 p.m., with the wind blowing fiercely, Jen began to think she was going to have to spend the entire night out here. The notion of being stranded inside this stifling hot van, surrounded by whatever critters lurked in the deserted Texas countryside, didn’t bode well.
Worse, what had at first looked like heat lightning now appeared to be the real thing. She could hear thunder rumbling in the distance, and that made her nervous, too. In the middle of a flat field, she felt like a sitting duck.
She had read that rubber tires would absorb a lightning strike. She’d also seen Austin news reports of lightning going right through the hood of a running vehicle, decimating the motor.
Which made sense. The exterior was metal, after all.
Metal attracted lightning.
But she would be no safer outside the vehicle, because then she would have no protection whatsoever. So, heaven help her, she had to stay inside and try not to be scared witless. Wait…was that a truck going down the road?
Jen hit the horn—hard—but it wasn’t necessary. The pickup had already swerved around, and the headlamps swept the van.
The truck accelerated, coming right for her.
That quickly, the lightning—which had seemed so far away—lit up the dark sky with a bright yellow flash and a simultaneous clap of thunder that was so darn loud it had Jen nearly jumping out of her skin.
Tears sprang into her eyes as it was followed by a second lightning bolt and even louder rumble of thunder. Not that it seemed to bother the driver. The pickup circled around as the sky opened up and the rain poured down in fierce sheets. The vehicle did a U-turn and came back, stopping alongside her van. The passenger door swung open.
Matt Briscoe was clearly illuminated.
Jen had never been so glad to see anyone in her life. Or embarrassed. Of all the people to rescue her…
He leaned over. “Get in!”
That would mean hopping across six feet of field, exposed to the storm. “I…” Am scared witless!
Too scared, in fact, to move.
Matt’s glance cut to the lifted hood on her van—the age-old sign of a vehicle in trouble. “Don’t argue!” he commanded, even more fiercely. “Just do it!”
Another bolt of lightning slashed down, striking a distant fence post. Fire flashed, splinters flew. A split second later, the thunder was deafening.
Jen didn’t have to be told twice. She wanted out of there. Now! After shoving her keys and phone into her purse, she jumped out of the van, slammed the driver’s door shut behind her and then dashed through the pouring rain to his vehicle.
Matt reached out and helped pull her inside the truck as yet another bolt of lightning struck the ground, an even shorter distance away.
Jen slammed the door.
“Hold on!” he said, shifting the truck into Drive.
Seconds later, they were bumping across the field toward the rural highway. While Jen scrambled to put on her safety belt, Matt drove through the pouring rain with a sure, steady hand.
Eventually, the worst of the lightning and thunder was behind them. He slowed.
“Might help to breathe,” he said.
He was right, Jen realized belatedly. She had been holding her breath. She let it out, then sucked in a rush of air that did little to dispel the tension coiled inside her.
She blotted the rain from her face with the backs of her hands. Pretty sure her mascara was running, she reached into her handbag for a tissue and dabbed it beneath her eyes. Feeling marginally better, she dropped the soiled tissue back in her
