Her Mountain Sanctuary. Jeannie Watt
who appeared to have backbone go pale at the sight of him?
Drew slowed again as he passed the beautiful stone, wood and glass house where his nearest neighbors—his former classmate, Dani Brody, and her husband, Gabe—lived. Near being a relative term. Drew’s cabin was another three miles up a road that rapidly degenerated from maintained gravel to rutted dirt. And regardless of what his sister thought was best, he liked living on a rutted, unmaintained road. Maddie was good with it, too. In fact, she loved the bouncy ride to the cabin on the weekends.
He’d talked about the situation with Pete and Cara and they’d agreed that when summer vacation started, Maddie would stay at the cabin more often but return to their place at night. She didn’t know about the plan and still thought she’d be at the cabin full-time, but hopefully, between Drew and Pete and Cara, they could help her understand why this was the best course of action—why he didn’t want her at the cabin if he came unhinged during the night. The thought of Maddie being there if he woke up yelling or punching a wall ruined him.
The sky was getting darker and he could smell the rain that was going to catch him if he didn’t step on the gas.
Thunder cracked behind him as he negotiated a corner, and then the rain started, spattering on the windshield, the seat beside him, his jeans and shoulders. He dodged a couple ruts and accelerated. Another two miles.
Lightning flashed as he rounded a corner, illuminating the white-tailed buck standing in the middle of the road. Drew swerved hard to the right, just missing the animal, then cranked the wheel back toward the road too late.
The front tire caught the berm, jerking the rig sideways. It teetered on the edge of the embankment before crashing down on its side and then rolling over onto its top.
Drew was thrown sideways and he smacked his head on something, making stars explode in his vision as the Jeep came to a rest on the roll bar. He hung from his seat belt as the rain began to pound.
FAITH HAD JUST thrown the last of the hay when she heard the crash. She turned toward the sound, pushing the damp hair back from her forehead. She wore a hooded raincoat, but the wind was now blowing sideways, driving rain into her face and down her back.
Too loud and metallic to be a gunshot. Too close to ignore.
Lightning flashed and when the sky darkened again, she saw the odd lights pointing into the sky where there should only be darkness. Mini floodlights...or headlights.
Her heart started pounding as she raced to the two-passenger ATV parked inside the open barn. Sully abandoned the kittens he’d been playing with and bounded over the door into the passenger seat. Faith’s phone was still in the house, so she stopped at the end of the walk, raced inside and grabbed it, dialing 911 as she headed back to the vehicle and climbed onboard. She pushed Sully farther onto his side of the seat so she could move her arm without bumping him.
The call put her straight through to sheriff dispatch. She explained that she’d heard a crash and now there were lights pointed into the sky. The operator promised to send a deputy as soon as one was available. Did she need an ambulance? That would take time, too. There’d been an accident on the rain-slicked roads just outside of town.
“I’ll update you when I get there.” Faith dropped the phone in her pocket and roared past the dark house Dani Brody and her husband called home. It was close to six o’clock. People should be getting home soon, but right now she was the only game in town.
Rain pelted the windshield and blew in through the open sides of the ATV. Faith’s wet fingers were getting numb from the cold. She followed the tracks that the rain was rapidly washing away, rounded a corner and saw the lights carving their way through the dark sky, pointing toward the tops of the tall fir trees ahead.
The ATV slid sideways in the slick mud as she approached the place where the tracks headed over the edge of the road, and she slowed, then stopped. She told Sully to stay, then jumped off the vehicle and headed toward the embankment. As she got closer, she heard the sound of rolling rocks over the rain. A few seconds later, a head appeared over the top of the berm.
Faith rushed forward and the man slid backward before his feet regained purchase on the slippery bank and he heaved himself upward again. Taking hold of his wet jacket, Faith set her feet and leaned back, counterbalancing the man as he made his way up and over. She staggered sideways as he regained his footing on the muddy road.
He was big and broad and once he had his balance, he towered over her. Just as that guy in the parking lot had before he’d spun her around and knocked her down.
Faith’s chest constricted. For one long moment, she and Drew Miller faced off in the lights of the ATV.
Move. Say something.
Instead she stared at him as the rain pelted her face.
“I’m not going to hurt you.” He stepped backward and one of his knees buckled, snapping her back to her senses.
Of course he wasn’t going to hurt her. “Can you get in on your own?” She pointed at the ATV and he gave a slow nod before advancing. She pulled her phone out of her pocket and he stopped.
“What are you doing?”
“Calling dispatch.”
“No.”
He spoke adamantly and Faith lowered the phone. “I already called them. I promised an update.”
“No ambulance.”
“I can take you to the hospital,” she said, assuming it was the cost that had him concerned.
“No hospital.”
“Do you want me to leave you here?” she snapped.
He angled his head as if discerning whether he’d heard her correctly. “I’d appreciate a ride to my place. It’s a couple of miles up the road.”
“Fine.” Faith wiped the water off her face. She wasn’t about to try to force him to seek medical care. She’d take him home. Drop him off. Hope that he didn’t have a concussion or something.
Once they were both in the close confines of the side-by-side and Sully was in the open cargo space at the rear, she put the vehicle in gear and headed up the road, weaving in and around the ruts. “What happened?”
“Deer.”
She gripped the wheel tighter. A couple of miles. She could do this. It wasn’t as if he was her attacker. Just a close physical facsimile...and, maybe because she was in the role of rescuer, her tension seemed more directed toward the shock of the accident rather than knee-jerk fear. She maneuvered around a corner and then another. He lived at the end of a very windy road. “I know the hospital is out, but do you want me to call your family? Tell them what happened?”
“I’ll do it.”
Faith forced herself to release her death grip on the steering wheel. Just another mile. Then you can breathe. Go back home. Climb into the tub. Drink your wine...
“Thank you.”
The words surprised her and it took her a couple seconds to say, “Not a problem.”
“I think it is.”
She frowned but resisted the urge to look at him. They covered the last mile in total silence, rounding one final corner before the headlights of the ATV illuminated a very small cabin with a metal shop building next to it. The shop dwarfed the cabin.
“Cozy,” she murmured. It couldn’t have more than three rooms, tops. Her money was on two.
“It’s home,” he spoke as he climbed out of the ATV.
She nodded, waiting for him to start toward his dark house, her nerves humming with the anticipation of escape.
“I’d