paused for a moment. The water level rose an inch.
‘We’ll talk about it later,’ he said curtly. ‘We have minutes to get your car clear before she’s properly swamped. Get in and turn it on.’
‘But are there more creeks?’
‘A dozen or so.’
‘Then I can’t get to Malley’s Corner,’ she wailed. ‘I need to go back the way I came. Can you push me back to the other side?’
‘You want to do a U-turn in the middle of the creek?’
‘No, but I don’t want to be trapped.’
‘I have news for you, lady,’ he told her. ‘You’re already trapped. The only hope we have of getting your car out of this water is to go straight forward and do it now. Get in your car and I’ll push or it’ll be washed away. Move!’
She gave a yelp of fright—and moved.
* * *
She was in such a mess.
Actually, if she was honest, she wasn’t in a mess at all. She was perfectly dry. Her little car was on dry land, still drivable. Samson had jumped back up into the passenger seat and was looking around for his cushions. It looked as if she could drive happily away. There were more creeks but for now she was safe.
But she had a cowboy to thank, the guy who’d saved her car—and he was the mess.
Though actually... She should be able to describe him as a mess, she thought. He’d shoved the cushions under her back wheels to get traction and then, as she’d touched the accelerator, he’d put his hands under the back of her car and pushed.
She’d felt the strength of him, the sheer muscle. With the acceleration behind him he’d practically heaved the little car free.
She’d stopped and looked back, and her cowboy—her rescuer—was sprawled full length in the water.
When he stood up he almost looked scary. He was seriously big, he was soaked and he was spitting sand. He did not look happy.
When he reached the bank she backed off a little.
‘Th...thank you,’ she ventured. ‘That was very good of you.’
‘My pleasure, ma’am,’ he said with obvious sarcasm and she winced.
‘I’m sorry.’
‘All in a day’s work. I’ve heaved stock from bogs before this. Your car’s not much bigger than a decent bull.’ He wiped away some sand and she had a clearer view of his face. He had deep brown eyes set in a strongly boned face. Strength and capability and toughness was written on every inch of him. This wasn’t the sort of guy she ever met in her city life.
‘Do you live round here?’ she managed and he nodded.
‘Over the rise.’
‘Then...I guess that means at least you can go home and have a shower. Look, I really am sorry...’
‘So what will you do?’
‘Go on until I reach the next creek,’ she said in a small voice. ‘Samson and I can sleep in the car if the water doesn’t go down before nightfall. We’ll go on tomorrow.’
‘Tomorrow...’
‘I start work on Tuesday. I guess it’s just lucky I left myself a day’s leeway.’
Something seemed to be happening on her rescuer’s face. There was a tic right next to his jaw. It was sort of...twitching.
Laughter? No. Exasperation?
Maybe.
‘You’d better follow me,’ he said at last and she blinked.
‘Why? I’m sorry; that doesn’t sound gracious but you’ve done enough. Samson and I will be fine.’
‘For a fortnight?’
‘A fortnight?’
‘That’s how long they’re saying before the floodwaters subside.’ He sighed. ‘There’s been rain all over central New South Wales. It’s been dry here, which is why you’ve been lulled into thinking it’s safe to drive, but it’s been raining up north like it hasn’t for years. The water’s pouring into the Murray catchment and all that water’s making its way downstream. Creeks that haven’t seen water for years are starting to fill. If you’d followed the main road you might have made it...’
‘The satnav lady said this way was much shorter,’ she said in a small voice.
‘Then the satnav lady’s a moron,’ he said bluntly. ‘There’s no way you’ll get this little car through to Malley’s Corner and there’s no way you can get back. You’re stuck right here and you’re stuck for a while.’
She stood and stared at him and he gazed right back. He was looking at her as if she were some sort of strange species.
An idiot.
All her careful plans. All her defiance...
This was just what her father expected—Penelope being stupid once again.
She thought of the last appalling tabloid article she’d read before she’d packed and left—her father explaining to the media why the man who’d intended to marry Penny was now marrying Penny’s older half-sister, the gorgeous, clever, talented Felicity.
‘They’re a much more suitable match,’ George had told the journalist. ‘Brett is one in a million. He’s an employee who’s going places and he needs a woman of class to support that. My younger daughter means well, but she’s much more interested in her cakes than in taking care of her man. I’m not sure why we all didn’t see this was a more sensible match to begin with.’
Sensible. Right.
She shook herself, shoving painful memories harshly behind her. No, she wouldn’t be calling her father for help.
‘Is there somewhere I can stay?’ she asked in a small voice.
‘You’re on my land,’ he told her. ‘From here until the next two creek crossings there’s nowhere but Jindalee.’
‘Jindalee?’
‘My home.’
‘Oh.’
She looked at his horse and her mind was twisting so much she even thought of offering to buy the thing and ride off into the sunset. Fording rivers on horseback with Samson riding up front.
Um...not. Even if she could ride a horse. Even if she was game to go near it.
‘Do you...do you have a four-wheel drive?’ she asked. ‘Is it possible that a truck or something could get through?’
‘It
