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Overview
Pregnant, abandoned, and stranded in a Texas blizzard, nurse Savannah Grayson is grateful when billionaire rancher Mike Calhoun rescues her. The widowed father offers shelter—and only shelter—at his vast ranch.
Determined to never love another woman again, Mike tries to do the right thing and resist his attraction to his vulnerable guest. As they spend cold days building snowmen with his son and long nights talking and kissing by the fire, Mike fights the thaw of his heart . . . a battle he just might lose.
Product Details
| ISBN-13: | 9781460378397 |
|---|---|
| Publisher: | Harlequin |
| Publication date: | 05/26/2022 |
| Series: | Lone Star Legends |
| Sold by: | Barnes & Noble |
| Format: | eBook |
| Pages: | 187 |
| Sales rank: | 134,091 |
| File size: | 612 KB |
About the Author
Read an Excerpt
Mike Calhoun frowned, glancing briefly at the small mirror that allowed him to see Scotty in the backseat. Assured his almost-three-year-old son was okay, Mike peered ahead as sheets of gray rain swept against his truck. With the truck wipers maxed, he guessed visibility was less than fifty yards. He hadn't passed a car or seen any sign of life for the past half hour. To his relief he spotted a small light shining on a sign and he turned, thankful to have reached the shelter of the only gas station between the closest town and his West Texas ranch.
He slowed to stop beneath the extended roof covering eight pumps. Ed had locked up and gone home and Mike didn't blame him. On a stormy Saturday night in the last week of January, Ed wouldn't have had much business anyway.
"We're stopping, Scotty," he said, turning to his son while he left the motor running and the car lights switched on so they would not be in complete darkness. "If we wait, the rain will let up and driving conditions will be better," he said as he unfastened his son's seat belt.
Solemnly, Scotty looked at him. "Can we cross the bridge?"
Smiling, Mike tousled Scotty's black curls. "My little worrier," Mike said. "I think so, Scotty. If we can't cross the north bridge in the front, I'll drive around to the west. It'll take longer, but we can get home. Don't worry. This downpour will slack off soon. It can't rain this hard all night."
Twin specks of light emerged from the rain and grew bigger as a car approached. "Here comes someone else. It may be someone from our ranch."
When the car pulled into the lane next to Mike, smoke poured from beneath the hood. The driver passed the pumps, stopping beyond them, still sheltered by the roof.
The driver's door opened and someone in a parka stepped out and shook the hood away, revealing a woman with a long blond braid.
"This isn't anyone we know. Scotty, stay in the car while I see if she needs help." Mike lowered the front window so Scotty could hear him easily. He cut the car engine. "The lady has car trouble."
Pocketing his car keys, Mike stepped out and closed his door. "Hi, I'm Mike Calhoun. Can I help you?" he asked, looking at a blonde with big blue eyes.
Frowning slightly, she walked around her car. "Thank you. I'm Savannah Grayson. I do need help. I don't know what's wrong with my car. I was so scared it would break down while I was on the highway. It's been clattering and smoke was coming out from beneath the hood. Thank heavens I saw your car in this station. It was like getting tossed a lifeline in a stormy ocean." She looked past him.
"You have a little boy in your truck. I shouldn't take your time."
Mike looked at Scotty and waved even though only a few yards separated them. Smiling, Scotty waved back. "He'll be fine for a bit."
"I don't know what the trouble is—"
"Whoa," Mike said, seeing a flickering orange flame curl from beneath the hood. He stepped to his truck, retrieved his fire extinguisher and opened the hood of her car. As flames shot out, Savannah gasped. He held up the extinguisher and in seconds white foam doused the fire.
"I'm sorry, but this car isn't going anywhere until a mechanic works on it," Mike said, bending over the smoldering engine. "Are you visiting someone around here?" he asked when he straightened. He was certain she didn't live in the area or he would know her.
"No, I'm just passing through. I'm on my way to California from Arkansas. I don't know anyone here. I guess this place is locked up for the night." She frowned again as she looked at the dark station.
"When the rain lets up, I can drive you back to Verity where there's a good hotel. I'll call Ed who owns this gas station and tell him you're leaving your car here for the weekend. It'll be Monday before anyone can look at your car. In the meantime, I'll take you back to Verity and you can get a hotel room."
"Thank you," she said, giving him another faint smile.
"Let's go sit with my son Scotty until this rain lets up. This is a whopper of a storm. We've had a long dry spell, so now we're getting the rain all at once to make up for it. This is supposed to change to snow later tonight."
As she nodded, Mike opened the truck door.
Sliding into the truck on the passenger side, she turned to smile at Scotty. "Hi."
"Hi," he replied, staring at her. Mike turned to her. "Savannah, this is Scotty. Scotty, this is Ms. Grayson."
"Hi, Ms. Grayson," he said.
Mike closed her door. He walked around to sit behind the steering wheel while she shed her parka and smoothed the oversize navy sweatshirt she wore. The interior of his truck had cooled with the window lowered, so Mike turned on the engine, the heater and defrost. Lights from the dash gave a soft glow in the car.
"I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't been here," Savannah said. "Probably driven it out into the rain, opened the hood and then ran. I suppose the rain would have put out the fire."
Mike laughed. "Guess it is a good thing I was here. Where in Arkansas are you from?" he asked, looking into big eyes that were the deep blue of a summer sky.
"Little Rock," she replied.
The first hailstone caught their attention. In seconds another struck, then hail began hurtling at the car and ground.
"Thank goodness we're sheltered and I'm not still out on the highway," Savannah said.
"Those are big hailstones. I'm glad we're both here." He took a few minutes to call Ed about her car, then pocketed his phone. "All set for Monday morning," he told Savannah. "Why don't you take what you need from your car and then lock it. You can leave the key in the drop box on the station door."
"This is nice of you. I hate for you to have to drive back to Verity."
"I don't mind," he answered. Hailstones fell harder, faster, bouncing when they hit the pavement. Lightning flashed and thunder rumbled.
"Damn. We're having a bad storm. Excuse me a minute. I want to check at the ranch." He called his foreman, explaining he was waiting out the storm at Ed's station. After a lengthy report from Ray on how things were faring, Mike said he'd check back in later.
He slipped his phone into his pocket. "I don't live far from here. We're not going to get back into Verity tonight because the river is flooding and we'd need to cross a bridge to get into town. Also, the temperature is dropping. If it keeps up, this will turn to sleet and roads can get slick in the blink of an eye."
"Seems I've gone from bad to worse," she said, gazing at the rain.
"Savannah, you're welcome to come back to my ranch with me. You can get a character reference from the sheriff of Verity. I have his phone number—he's my relative. Or if you want to check in with someone who's not a relative of mine, I can give you my banker's or lawyer's number. I just don't want you to worry about coming home with us."
She laughed. "Mercy. That's a lot of references."
"I'm calling the sheriff now and you can talk to him."
"Please, you don't need to call. I think your best reference is sitting in the backseat."
Startled, Mike looked up to see a twinkle in her blue eyes. "Scotty?"
She turned to Scotty. "Scotty, can I trust your daddy?"
"Yes, ma'am."
She smiled at Mike, an enticing smile that revealed even white teeth and made the evening seem suddenly better. "I think you've given me enough assurances that I'll be safe to go with you. You don't need to call the sheriff. Do you need to call your wife and tell her you're bringing a guest home?"
Mike felt a clutch to his insides. No one had asked about Elise in a long time, but it still hurt when he was questioned. "I'm a widower."
"I'm sorry," she said instantly.
"Thanks. I think the hail has let up slightly. Let's get things out of your car and get going while we can. Scotty, just sit tight. I'm going to help Ms. Grayson move some of her bags to our car."
"Yes, sir," Scotty replied.
In minutes they had moved suitcases, a laptop, two backpacks and a box. As soon as she locked her car and dropped the keys in the drop box, they climbed into his truck and he drove back onto the state highway. She glanced back at her car.
"Your car will be okay there."
"I wasn't worried. It's an older car with a burned, damaged engine and I don't think anyone would want it. And thanks so much for your help," she added. "I hope I don't crowd you. I can sleep anywhere—sofa, floor, anything works."
He smiled. "You won't have to sleep on the floor. I have plenty of room."
They became quiet while Mike concentrated on his driving. The rain was still heavy, but not the downpour it had been, which improved visibility.
Almost an hour later as they neared the turn for the front gate, Mike called his foreman again on a handsfree phone in his truck. When he ended the brief call, he glanced in the mirror at his son. Big brown eyes gazed back at him.
"Scotty, we'll need to go around the creek to get home. But don't worry because I promise we'll get home."
Scotty smiled and nodded, and Mike glanced at Savannah. "My foreman drove to the creek that crosses the ranch. We can't get there the usual way from this road. I have to take a longer route."
"Whatever is necessary. Anything beats staying alone in my burned car in the rain all night," she said, smiling. "I'm just thankful to have a roof over my head tonight and be where people are."
The downpour suddenly thickened, sheets of rain sweeping over the vehicle again and then hailstones began bouncing off his truck.
"Dammit," Mike said softly, glancing quickly in the mirror and seeing Scotty's eyes wide and frightened.
"Daddy, I don't like this."
"It'll quit in a minute, Scotty, and with every mile we're getting closer to home."
"Scotty," Savannah said, rummaging in her purse and turning slightly to reach between the seats. "I keep a tiny flashlight in my purse. You take it. And look at this. It's a compass—it shows you which direction you're headed. See this letter. It's a W. W means west. We'll be much closer to your home when the needle points to—" She paused.
"N," Mike said.
"N is for north," Scotty replied.
"Very good, Scotty," Savannah said. "How old is he?" she asked Mike.
"Yes. He'll soon turn three and he's with adults all the time. He knows about a compass."
"Scotty, you can watch that compass to see which direction we're going. You have a flashlight so you can see the letters." As the hail increased, she raised her voice. "You'll know when we turn that you're closer to your home. Look here. I have a marble that was in my purse. I'll hide it in one of my hands and you guess which one it's in."
Mike listened to Savannah play with Scotty. She had gotten his mind off the storm and he was looking at her hands, guessing about the marble. Mike wondered if she had younger siblings. He realized he had been gripping the steering wheel tightly and he relaxed. The hail receded, but the rain still came in pounding sheets over his truck, making driving hazardous.
While Scotty played with the flashlight, Savannah turned back around.
"Thanks," Mike said.
"Sure. Kids are fun."
"Do you have siblings?" Mike asked.
"Oh, yes. There are four of us and I'm the youngest. I have four little nieces and nephews, too. I like babies and children."
Mike wanted to ask her more about herself, but he turned his attention back to his driving and they rode in silence while he concentrated on getting home.
It was almost another thirty minutes when Savannah saw a wide gate ahead with a high iron arch over the road and the letters MC in the center at the top. Rain still poured and the wipers were a constant swish. At a post near the gate Mike slowed to reach out to punch a code. When the gate swung open, he drove across a cattle guard, a silver grill of flat steel tubing with a slightly rougher surface than the road, and then the gate closed behind him.
"Your son is asleep," Savannah whispered.
"I figured he would be. He's had a busy day in town. And you don't have to whisper, he's out."
"I don't want to wake him."
"It's just as well he's asleep because he's a worrier and we have to cross a swollen creek. At the main entrance to my ranch, there's a bridge, but it's older, already underwater and less reliable. The bridge on this part of the creek is newer, higher and wider so we've always been able to get across."
"You better," she whispered. "You promised him."
When Mike glanced at her, Savannah smiled.
"Kids have great trust," he said with his attention back on the road.
"Not if it isn't earned. You must have always come through for him."
"I hope I always can. He knows there are some things beyond me," Mike said.
"We'll hope crossing this bridge tonight isn't one of them." Savannah was thankful to have found Mike and Scotty. Otherwise, she would have been on a deserted road in the storm for the rest of the night and maybe a lot longer and she wouldn't have known where or when to get help. Thinking about it, she shivered and studied Mike's profile. He had a wide-brimmed black hat squarely on his head. He was in a leather, fleece-lined parka with fur trim and wore jeans and boots. He looked as competent as he was proving to be. His son was an adorable miniature of his dad with black hair and dark brown eyes.
After a time she wondered how big Mike's ranch was because it seemed as if they had been driving a long time since going through the gate.
"There it is," Mike said as if he guessed her thoughts. She peered through the streaming rain and could see what looked like a river. Swollen with surging black water, it was bigger than any creek she had ever seen. Rushing water had spilled out of the banks earlier in the evening. Mike's truck headlights revealed seven men in slickers getting out of two pickups on the other side of the raging creek.
"I'll be damned," he said quietly, frowning as he peered through his windshield. "I've never seen the creek this high. Not ever."
Chilled again by apprehension, she looked as the rushing water spread out of creek banks and splashed across the bridge that was already underwater.
"The bridge is covered by the creek," she said, her apprehension mounting swiftly. "Can we cross?"
"We're going to," Mike replied, stopping to phone his foreman. "Thanks for coming, Ray. I really appreciate all of you being here." Mike paused to listen. "I think we'll make it, but I'm glad you're here. Thanks." Mike put away his phone and she watched as the men turned lights on the raging creek.
