over a year since he’d returned home to Haven. Too many comrades had died. He didn’t understand why there was so much death and hatred. At first he had prayed, but when he lost one friend while Nick was trying to save his life, he’d stopped talking to God. The Lord obviously wasn’t listening.
As Nick left Main Street and the small downtown area, he passed Fletcher parking his car in front of his large antebellum home a few miles outside of Haven. The large three-story house overshadowed everyone else’s place nearby. Although he came from a family with a long ranching history, Fletcher didn’t live on more than two acres of land. According to Fletcher, ranching was manual labor and beneath him.
The sun near the western horizon sent up streaks of yellow, orange and rose through the darkening blue sky. Even though sunset was less than a half hour away, Nick wore his sunglasses to keep the glare from impeding his driving. Through the last burst of brightness, he glimpsed a car coming toward him. The driver maneuvered it to the shoulder of the two-lane highway and then came to a stop.
As Nick approached, he eased up on the gas. The other car’s emergency lights began flashing. A blond-haired woman opened the car door, swung her long legs around and stood. Standing partially on the road in four-inch heels, she glanced at him as he passed her. He made a U-turn and parked not a yard behind her. The chilly wind blew even stronger than before. The moisture-laden air would produce snow later tonight.
Nick climbed from his truck and strolled toward the lady using her expensive sports car as a shield from the cold northern blast.
“Not for two hours? It’s getting dark.” Her throaty voice with a Southern drawl rose in panic. “I’m in the middle of nowhere.” She paused while the person on the other end said something and then she sighed heavily. “Fine. Seven thirty or eight.” She disconnected and jammed her phone into her leather coat’s pocket.
Her gaze clashed with his, and she backed up against her car door. “I know how to defend myself, mister.”
“Against what? The cold? That short leather jacket won’t keep you warm.” His look skimmed her length, taking in her bare legs and the skirt that came to her knees. She had to be passing through. She had city gal stamped all over and, by the looks of her Corvette, was rich too. It wasn’t that he thought anyone would harm her, but he couldn’t leave her stranded for two hours waiting for a ride from whomever she was talking to.
“When I left Mobile this morning, it was a balmy sixty-five degrees and climbing to eighty until I began heading north in Houston.”
“A cold front is pushing through. If you don’t want to wait, I can drive you to Haven, the nearest town. I know Slim, who owns the garage. Or if you ran out of gas, I can bring you back some. You’re only five miles from Haven.”
She straightened. “I didn’t run out of gas. I have over half a tank. My check-engine light came on when I left Interstate 45. I was praying I could make it to Haven without a problem.”
“Haven?” Why? Who was she visiting? She’d fit in about as well as a fox in a hen house.
“I like a small town. Waco is too big.”
“And you’re from Mobile?” The last time he checked, Mobile was classified as a city.
“South at Gulf Shores. The pace is a little quieter. I noticed you were heading out of town. I’d hate to take you out of your way.” The woman hugged her arms close to her body while she pretended she wasn’t freezing.
“I don’t live too far from here. A few extra miles won’t make any difference.” His horses could wait, and after he dropped her off, he’d call Corey and decide if he needed to see him in person tonight or if he could wait until tomorrow.
“I hate to be a bother.”
In a short time darkness had totally blanketed the landscape, the only illumination coming from his headlights. He didn’t want to leave her alone on the road. There was little crime in the area, but if something happened to her, he’d have a hard time forgiving himself. “It’s up to you. But after sundown, it’s going to get a lot colder fast.” He held out his hand. “By the way, I’m Nick McGarrett.”
The woman shook it. “I’m Darcy Hill. And if you’re sure you have the time to go back into town, then I’d appreciate a ride to the garage. I have a reservation at the Blue Bonnet Inn.”
Reservations? The inn was more of a bed-and-breakfast and did a brisk business in the spring, summer and fall. It was well-known in the state for its hospitality and luxurious accommodations, but in the winter it might be half full at its best. “It’s not far from Slim’s, right off the main street. You might want to get your luggage. Slim will have to tow your car to Haven, and since it’s close to quitting time, he probably won’t take a look under the hood till morning.”
“After being on the road eleven hours, all I want to do is eat and sleep. I can call my auto service back and cancel if you’re sure.”
“Yes, ma’am. I’ll put your luggage in the back of my truck.”
She withdrew her key fob from her pocket and clicked it. The trunk popped open. “I also have some pieces in the passenger seat.”
Nick stared at the back area of her sports car, every inch crammed with her belongings. While he emptied the trunk—two suitcases and some soft bags—Darcy took out a couple more pieces from the front seat. “How long are you staying?”
“Not sure yet. For a while.”
Nick carried the luggage to his truck. Who makes plans to come to Haven for an undetermined amount of time in the winter? The last city gal who came to Haven a while back was now buddy-buddy with Fletcher. They didn’t need another troublemaker like Avery Culpepper in town, even if Darcy Hill was pretty and sure to turn men’s heads.
* * *
Darcy settled herself in the passenger seat of the man’s beat-up truck, called her auto service and then put her cell phone in her purse. She patted the soft leather, reassuring herself that her handgun was still inside. Her dad had insisted she bring it on the long road trip. She was twenty-seven and lived in her own house not far from her parents’ estate in Alabama, but they still worried about her. She was their only child, adopted when she was a few weeks old. In her heart, Mom and Dad were her true parents. They had even supported her trip to Haven.
“Do you know anyone around here?” the cowboy asked as he started his pickup and pulled onto the highway.
“No.” Which was true, but she was hoping to get to know her biological father. She wasn’t sure whether she would approach him or not—especially since her birth mother had made it clear that she didn’t want to meet Darcy. Being rejected by her twice had been a blow. She didn’t want another rejection.
“Most people have a reason to visit Haven.”
She warmed her hands near a heat vent in the dashboard that put out an inadequate stream of hot air. “I’m not most people. When I was a child, I wanted to visit every state. I’ve been in Texas before, but it’s so big I felt I needed to divide it into sections to do it justice.” All technically true. As they neared Haven, she stared out the side window at the lights from a large antebellum house she knew belonged to her biological father. The private investigator who had located Fletcher Phillips had given her a photo of the man’s house, along with other pictures of him. She swung her gaze to Nick, the dim interior lights casting his
