hold real still for me, Hannah. This should only take a second.”
Her gaze dropped to the blade and she swallowed hard. “Y-you didn’t tell me your name.”
“Garrett Wade,” he replied, noting the fear in her eyes as she looked down at his knife. “No need to worry. I grew up on a ranch.” He worked the tip of the knife gently beneath the stubborn strap. “My father taught all three of his sons at an early age how to handle a knife properly.”
Her gaze lifted. “How old are you now?”
“Thirty-four,” he answered as he focused on the troublesome belt, carefully slicing into it.
She exhaled a sigh of relief. “So you’ve had lots of time to p-perfect your knife skills.”
“Enough,” he agreed, her reply causing a grin to tug at his lips.
A scant few moments later, he had freed Hannah Sanders from her restraints. She inhaled deeply, closing her eyes.
Garrett stilled. “You okay?”
Opening her eyes, she met his worried gaze. “Yes. It’s just such a relief to be able to breathe fully again.”
He nodded in understanding, and then he folded and put away his pocketknife as his racing heart slowed. To think of what might have happened if he hadn’t gotten there when he had. “Now we just have to get you somewhere warm and safe.”
“Safe?”
He inclined his head toward the creek. “The water’s still rising. Best to clear out, just in case it spills over and tries to sweep your car away again.”
The look of relief he’d seen on her face faded away with his words.
Garrett silently chided himself for not giving more thought to the words he’d spoken. While they’d been truthful, he supposed he could have kept his concerns to himself. Unlike his brothers, he’d never been any good at saying the right thing when it came to women. Most likely because a majority of his time was spent in the company of animals. Not the best learning ground for social interaction.
“I’m not going to let anything happen to you,” he said. “And I’m a man of my word. Now just sit tight while I come around to help you out.”
“M-my purse,” she said, shivering. “It fell to the floor.”
Glancing down by his booted feet, he frowned. “I’m afraid I got mud on it.”
“That’s okay,” she assured him with a weak smile. “It’ll wipe clean.”
With a nod, he reached for it and then handed it over to her. “I’ll be around to get you.” Drawing the poncho up over his head, he slipped back out into the storm.
Hannah looked out into the darkness, the flashlight still gripped tightly in her hand. Its beam still directed downward. She watched through the pouring rain outside as her rescuer made his way around the front of her car.
Thank You, Lord, for sending this man to help us. She placed a hand against her stomach, feeling the life stir beneath it. “We’re going to be all right, little one.” While she didn’t know this cowboy who had rescued them, Hannah knew in her heart that he would keep them safe.
Her rescuer stepped up to the driver’s side door and eased it open. He had the poncho draped over his head, one long arm holding the outer edge of it over the Civic’s roof to help shield her from the rain when she slid out.
Clutching her purse in one hand and the weighty flashlight in her other, Hannah turned, easing a foot out the open door.
“Let me get that,” he said, taking the flashlight from her. “Now, careful you don’t lose your footing,” her said, his words nearly drowned out by the loud pulse of rain hitting the poncho he held extended over them.
Nodding, she pushed to her feet. Only it wasn’t the water under her shoes that had her going down. It was her trembling legs which promptly gave way beneath her. The next thing Hannah knew, she was being swept up into a pair of strong arms and carried away from her car and the raging creek beyond.
“I c-can walk,” she protested.
“I can see that,” came his reply, concern lacing his words. “But I’m not taking any chances. Not when you’re having abdominal pains.”
“I’m not having them now,” she told him, closing her eyes, too exhausted to say any more. When they reached his truck, she expected Garrett to set her on her feet, but he held her securely against him as he opened the passenger door and placed her, as if she weighed nothing at all, up into the spacious bucket seat.
“Don’t take the poncho off until I close the door,” he told her. “I’ve got to go unhook the towrope from the truck and then we’ll get going.”
As soon as the heavy door slammed shut beside her, Hannah worked her way out from under the poncho, her gaze searching the curtain of rain coming down outside for the man God had sent in answer to her prayers. She latched on to his shadowy outline, this kindhearted cowboy who had become her lifeline when she’d thought all was lost. By the time he’d climbed into the driver’s seat, Garrett was soaked from his wide-brimmed cowboy hat to his muddied boots. Beneath the fading glow of the truck’s dome light, she could see the beads of water dripping from the damp tips of his wet, wavy hair.
“I’m so s-sorry you had to get out in this storm,” she said as he reached between them to place his wet cowboy hat onto the floor behind her seat.
“Given the alternative outcome, I thank the good Lord above for putting me in the right place at the right time,” he replied as he reached back between the seats to grab a thick woolen blanket. Handing it over to her, he said, “Shove that wet poncho to the floor and wrap up in this. I can hear your teeth chattering from over here.”
Nodding, she draped the blanket over herself, relishing the warmth it provided. “I c-can’t thank you enough for coming to my rescue.” Her hand moved to her swollen belly. “Our rescue.”
His gaze dropped to the rounded, blanket-draped mound and then back up to her face. “It’s going to be okay. I’m going to take you to my brother’s place, where you can warm yourself by the fireplace,” he said as he threw the truck into gear. “It’s closer than mine. We’ll hole up there until the storm lets up. You sure you’re all right?”
“I’m alive,” she replied with a grateful smile. “I’d say that’s far better than all right.”
He nodded.
“Do you think your brother will mind?” she asked, the chattering of her teeth easing somewhat as the blanket, along with the heat blasting up from the truck’s floor heater, began to ease the chill from her body.
“Jackson?” Garrett said, glancing her way. “Not a chance. The man is a social butterfly. He always welcomes company.” He turned the vehicle around and started back along the rain-soaked road.
The warmth filling the truck’s cab cocooned her as they drove through the storm. The farther away from the flooding creek they got, the more relaxed she felt. And tired. So very tired. She needed to stay awake. That was
