Husband for a Year. Rebecca Winters
been in her life, she went into the rest room to make certain no blond strands had escaped her wig. Then she refreshed her makeup. It had been carefully chosen to camouflage her fair coloring and play up her black hair. With brown contact lenses, gold hoop earrings, a black turtleneck sweater and designer jeans, her own mother wouldn’t recognize her.
That was the whole point.
Gabe had led a double life for months. Except for the P.I.s who’d been paid well for their silence, not to mention their help, only the people involved with his ranch knew where he was. Stefanie had no intention of giving his secret away. In fact she’d done everything in her power to make sure no one would suspect she was the former Mrs. Gabriel Wainwright.
After taking a deep breath, she went out front to pay for her lunch. It wasn’t until she started for her car that she realized a wind had sprung up. Snow had been forecast.
With the ranch only twenty minutes away, she estimated that if she drove there immediately, she could make it without problem. Otherwise she might have to wait another day to see Gabe, depending on the severity of the storm.
When she’d come this far, it didn’t bear thinking about to be so close and still have to put off a reunion with him. She’d lived through five days and nights with the fear that something would go wrong and she’d never be able to find him. Now that she was within a few miles of his ranch, she couldn’t get there fast enough.
By the time the image of the motel had disappeared from her rearview mirror, the rain had turned to snow which was pelting the windshield. She turned on the wipers. Over the past few hours there’d been a noticeable drop in temperature. Twice she’d had to slow down because of black ice.
In this lonely wilderness, she found it hard to believe it was early April. Even more difficult to understand was Gabe’s decision to lose himself out here.
Anyone acquainted with the Wainwright sons knew they were expert swimmers and sailors. Certainly Gabe was one with the sea. Besides water sports, he loved offshore fishing. The rougher the swells and battering of salt spray, the better.
Stefanie was a water baby herself. Throughout their brief marriage she’d shared many of those activities with him, but always in the company of others.
For those reasons, she couldn’t imagine what had drawn him to this landlocked backcountry with no ocean in sight. No yachts or sailboats. No people.
The more she surveyed these hostile surroundings, the more incredulous she grew that this was a permanent move on his part.
“Oh, Gabe—what are you really doing out here?” she cried in anguish. “Why?”
At first she thought it was only the tears blurring her eyes that hampered her vision. But after she’d traveled the required distance and still couldn’t find the gate to the ranch, she realized she’d been overtaken by the blizzard.
Without being able to see one inch in front of her, there was no other choice but to pull to the side of the road and wait until the worst of the storm had passed over.
The next thing she knew, the car tipped forward and came to a standstill in a ditch. Though it wasn’t terribly deep, she would have been thrown against the windshield if she hadn’t been wearing a seat belt.
Everything went quiet. No sound of the engine, no heater. In this whiteout she’d completely lost her bearings.
Once her nerves calmed down and she got herself under some semblance of control, she forced herself to think rationally. If the storm kept up, and it probably would for some time to come, she might be stranded here for hours. Maybe all night. No one would know she’d gone off the road.
On the other hand, if she got out of the car and tried to find Gabe on foot, she could be hit by another car, or come down with hypothermia. The only thing that made sense was to call 911 and hope she was in range for someone to answer. Unfortunately her purse had been thrown to the floor.
Due to the odd angle of the car, she had a struggle undoing the seat belt. Eventually she worked it free, then clung to the steering wheel with one hand while she reached for her handbag with the other. After some difficulty she fished out her cell phone and punched the digits.
“Sheriff’s office,” a robust male voice answered.
Thank heaven.
“H-hello? I’m—” She hesitated, realizing she’d almost said Stefanie Wainwright. “T-this is Teri Jones. I’ve run off the road into a ditch near the gate to the Larch Tree Boys’ Ranch. At least that’s where I was headed after I left Marion.”
“Are you injured, ma’am?”
“No. Just anxious.”
“What kind of a car are you driving?”
“It’s a dark blue 1989 Honda Civic.”
“Stay put. In this kind of weather you never know what’s moving out there.” Stefanie shivered, wondering if the man was talking about wild animals, like a bear or something. “We’ll get help to you as fast as we can.”
She swallowed her fear. “Thank you so much.”
When Gabe’s cell phone rang, he’d been riding through fresh snow in the lower pasture, checking to make sure there was enough feed for the herd. No one from the ranch house would be bothering him during this blizzard unless it was important.
He reined in his horse, then pulled the phone from his jacket. Another gust of snow forced him to lower the tip of his Stetson as a shield so he could be heard.
“Gabe here.”
“Gabe? It’s Marva. A minute ago the sheriff’s office phoned the main house. Apparently a woman named Teri Jones, driving a blue Honda, is stranded on the road near the gate to the ranch, but it seems all police rescue vehicles are out on emergencies right now. Since they’re shorthanded, the dispatcher wondered if somebody around here could investigate. Whom shall I send?”
His horse pranced in place. Every available stockman and ranch hand, including Mack, were checking for strays in the other pastures, making sure there was plenty of feed. Gabe realized he was probably closest to the main road.
“I’ll see about it. Keep the coffee hot.”
“You bet.”
“Thanks, Marva.” He slipped the phone back in place. “Let’s go home.”
He hurried back to the barn where he asked one of the hands to take care of Caesar. Within minutes he’d climbed in the Explorer. Fortunately in that short amount of time the wind had died down and the worst of the blizzard seemed to have passed over.
One thing about the early spring storms. They didn’t last long. A strong sun had been making inroads on the snowdrifts built up over the winter. Large patches of green meadow were springing up everywhere. He’d even seen some yellow primroses at the higher elevations, pushing through the ice. The sight had been glorious.
Still, the sun was nowhere to be found right now. He imagined the stranded woman was wondering if help would ever arrive. It was past dinnertime. If she hadn’t planned for an emergency, she was probably hungry and frightened.
The seven-mile drive to the gate through the wet virgin snow presented little problem. But after reaching the main road, he didn’t see a sign of a car or any tire tracks. Deciding to take a right, he proceeded in that direction for a couple of miles. When nothing showed up, he turned around and headed back the other way.
A mile past the gate he spotted a snow-covered vehicle, which had gone into the ditch headfirst. He pulled up alongside and turned on his hazard light. Still keeping the engine running, he levered himself from the seat and walked over to the car.
“Ms. Jones?” After knocking on the left rear window to announce his arrival, he climbed into the shallow culvert. With a gloved hand, he started removing snow from the driver’s window so he could see inside. Before he’d finished the job, the glass slid down.