door opened and the occupant rushed up to his car. Lucy Warner stood there in the cold wind of an August night. Clayton opened his door and got out. “You really shouldn’t approach a strange vehicle on a lonely road.”
Lucy didn’t hear censure in his voice, just old-fashioned concern. In the glare of his headlights she could make out his strong build. The hat he wore, an Aussie akubra, shadowed his face and her curiosity slipped up a notch.
“It was either stop someone or spend the night here,” she said. “I prefer a bed to the back seat of a car. When you pulled up, I figured I’d take my chances.”
Clayton pushed his hat back just slightly. He preferred a bed to the back seat as well but he didn’t think they knew each other well enough for that discussion. “And if I were someone planning to do you harm?”
Lucy stiffened her backbone and lifted her chin. The thought hadn’t occurred to her…but it did now. Gerry hadn’t been alone at the pub. What if this man was one of his cronies?
“Then the self-defence classes I took a few years back would be put to the test.” He was a big man, broad across the shoulders and at least six feet tall. All the defensive positions in the world would not have saved her if he’d intended to do her harm. She thought she heard him chuckle as he walked to her car.
“What seems to be the problem, Miss Warner?”
Fear slid its icy fingers down her spine. “How do you know my name?”
“You kind of introduced yourself back at the Roadhouse. I’m Clayton McKinley, your neighbour at Cable Downs.”
She crossed her arms beneath her breasts. “Any relation to the local vet?”
“He’s my big brother,” he replied, pride accompanying the words. “One of them anyway.”
Lucy had met Joshua McKinley a week after her arrival. He’d seemed a reserved man with kind eyes. Instinct told her reserved was not a word that would apply to his younger brother.
“Thanks for stopping.”
“It’s my pleasure.”
Lucy didn’t imagine the slight coaxing tone his baritone voice had taken on with those three words. This man’s pleasures weren’t something she wanted to poke her nose into. “You don’t happen to be a friend of Gerry Anderson do you?”
“I’d rather have no friends if Gerry was the alternative. Loudmouthed bullies with more brawn than brain deserve everything they eventually get.”
“Then there must be a huge fall somewhere in his future.”
“I’d bet on it.” He looked toward the vehicle. “So what’s wrong with your car?”
“Everything, according to the mechanic who serviced it last,” she said, glancing at the car. “He said if it were a horse he’d have it shot. For now I’m merely out of petrol and wondering if it can get any colder.”
“Oh sure it can,” he said easily. “There’s nothing like an Australian winter to test your mettle. Get in my truck and put the heater on. You’ll be warm in no time.”
The offer was tempting…far too tempting. “That won’t be necessary. If you have a mobile phone I can call the garage and get Rick to bring some fuel out.”
Clayton smiled to himself. He couldn’t really blame her for being so careful. He’d just warned her about strangers after all. Still, her reply sounded more prickly than cautious. He’d known prickly women before—hell, he’d known all kinds of women before. Every day since he’d hit puberty women had fascinated him. The fact that he would never understand any woman if he lived to be a hundred only intrigued him more.
“Sorry, no mobile phone.”
Lucy couldn’t hide her surprise. “Everyone and his dog has a mobile telephone these days.”
Clayton grinned and stuffed his hands in his coat pockets. “Well, my dog and I do just fine without one,” he told her. “And where’s yours?”
“At home,” she said, wishing she’d never even asked him about the damn phone. Walking to the garage would have been less frustrating. Usually she didn’t go anywhere without the mobile, but she hadn’t exactly been thinking clearly when she’d stormed out of the house an hour ago. She’d kept her calm while at the emergency room, but once Max was home safe she’d needed to blow off steam.
“I’ve got a can of fuel in the back of the truck. I’ll put it in your car and follow you to the truck stop. That saves you getting a ride back out here.”
Lucy liked doing things for herself. But she wanted to get home to Max, and Clayton was offering a solution to her problem.
“Thanks. I’ll pay you for the fuel when we get to the station and I get change.”
“Forget it.”
“I don’t like accepting charity.”
“Lady, it’s a couple of dollars’ worth of fuel. Out here that isn’t charity. It’s simply being neighbourly.”
“I still intend to pay you.”
Clayton shrugged. “You can try.”
Lucy hugged herself against the chill and glanced up to see him shrugging out of the coat he wore. He held the garment out to her. “Put this on.” She made no move to take it. “Either put it on or get in the truck.”
“And when you freeze to a solid block of ice, what am I supposed to do with you?”
Clayton liked her irritation. He might have to take the long way around to get past her defences but he had a keen sense of direction. “I don’t think I’m in any danger, but if it happens you take me back to your place, thaw me out and be gentle about it. What we do after that is up to you, since I’ll be at your mercy.”
She scowled. “This is serious. Think hypothermia. Frostbite. Pneumonia!”
“If I promise not to die, will you put the coat on?” She hesitated. “Listen, you’ve got kids waiting at home. The sooner you put this on, the sooner I can fuel up your car and we can get moving.”
Lucy couldn’t decide what she hated more—the fact that he’d made a very valid point or the confident tone of his voice. She took the coat from him. Nothing she said would make an ounce of difference and she did want to get home. She shrugged into the lambswool coat, its fleecy lining warm from his body heat. It hung to her knees, but right now keeping warm took precedence over style.
Clayton walked to the back of his vehicle. Retrieving the fuel can and a plastic funnel, he came back around to where she stood. In the beam of his headlights he bent down to the task at hand.
“The boy Gerry hurt, will he be all right?”
The question didn’t surprise Lucy. The genuine concern that accompanied it did. “He’ll be stiff and sore for a few days.”
“Joshua said you’ve got four kids living out here with you.”
“Well,
