Between Strangers (6 page)

Marcy nodded and breathed a little easier. She'd heard of women who did nothing but follow the rodeo around the country so they could shack up with the cowpokes along the way. She was glad to know that Marianne wasn't one of that kind.

“Anyway, after Hank's last big tumble,” Marianne continued, “the one that put him in the hospital for six months…I decided it was time for us to do something different with our lives.” She waved a hand around at the industrial-looking kitchen and the stainless equipment. “I've always been a good cook, so this was a natural.”

“Your food is wonderful,” Marcy told her. “I'm glad your business is doing well.” The baby picked that moment to pitch the spoon on the floor, so Marcy began to rock her softly.

“Thanks,” Marianne said with another one of those dazzling smiles and picked up spoon. “Does Angie need anything else?”

“No. She's getting sleepy. If I rock her a minute, she'll probably nod off.”

Marianne stood up. “Then how about her mother? Can I get you anything? A cup of coffee, maybe.”

“No, thanks. I'm still stuffed.” She sat back in her chair and let Angie relax against her chest. “Are you going to shut the restaurant down for Christmas so you can be with your family?”

“Yes, it's the one day of the year when we won't open at all.” Marianne quietly poured herself a cup
of coffee and returned to the table. “But the whole family won't be able to be here. Bobby and Vicki and the kids have gone to Florida to be with her parents for the holidays. Hank has other brothers and his parents live nearby, but we'll miss Bobby and Vicki.”

Marianne sipped in silence for a few minutes, watching Angie as her eyes drifted closed. “He really is a very special man,” she whispered at last.

“Who? Your husband, or his brother?”

“No,” she chuckled. “I mean…yes, of course Hank is wonderful and I love him very much. But I was talking about Lance being the one that's so special.”

“Oh.” Marcy wasn't sure she wanted to hear that from one of his old lovers. But this time she decided not to say anything.

“He tells me that you two just met,” Marianne began again. “I thought you might like to know what kind of a person he really is.”

Yes…or…no. Shoot, Marcy couldn't decide what she wanted when it came to Lance. She did want to get to know him…maybe even become his friend. But they only had a day or so left together. Maybe it would be better if they stayed strangers.

She remained in indecisive silence for so long that Marianne seemed to accept that as a go-ahead to keep on talking. “It would take me all day to tell you everything he's ever done that was extraordinary. So I'll just say that he would give his right arm to help a friend in need. I've seen him do seemingly impossible things when someone he cared about was in trouble.”

Marianne set her cup down and sighed. “As a per
sonal example, he lent Hank and me the money to start this business.” She looked around at her gleaming appliances. “None of the banks would consider lending money to a couple like us with no experience and huge hospital bills to pay. But we didn't even have to ask Lance. He heard of our trouble and simply handed us a check. When the first year nearly put us out of business, he came through with another loan then, too.”

Marianne stood and took her cup to the sink. “Now, I'm not saying that the man is a saint, mind you. In fact, there was a time when I would've gladly wrung his neck.” She turned her back to Marcy and the baby, rinsed out the cup and cleared her throat. “But shortly after that I found out that he'd lent Bobby the money to build his ranch house. Lance even pitched in on his days off and helped Bobby put it together with his own sweat.”

She'd been speaking over her shoulder but now she dried her hands again and returned to the table. “We've paid Lance back every cent we owed him, and Bobby has, too…as soon as he started work and could get a mortgage. But that's not the point.

“The point is that Lance would give a friend his very last penny if that friend was in need—and never think about it twice.” Marianne laid a soft hand on Marcy's shoulder. “He's a good man. The best. And I wanted you to know how the rest of the world sees him.”

Marcy had been aware that Lance was a different sort, better than any other man she'd ever known. Marianne's words only confirmed her own thoughts.

But she didn't have the slightest idea what to do with her newfound knowledge. Deathly afraid that she was beginning to fall for him, Marcy wondered if she could manage to hold on to her heart for the small amount of time they had left.

Everything she'd dreamed about waited in Cheyenne. Now all she had to do was keep Lance out of her dreams long enough to get there.

 

When Lance finally bundled Marcy and the baby into the SUV, the snow was coming down at an impossible rate. The temperature hovered right below freezing, bringing the snow to the ground in wet and heavy clumps.

It was dark and still, the sun had set hours ago. And the blinding snow was going to make driving slow and tedious. He shouldn't have spent so much time with Hank. But what else was he supposed to do when he realized how tough it was for the man to steady himself on the roof with his bum leg?

Lance was glad he'd helped him out. Hank and Marianne were good people. Hadn't she insisted that Marcy take a couple of thick pairs of socks and one of her extraheavy parkas? All right, so maybe the coat was a few inches too big and absolutely bright red, which made it seem much more suitable for Marianne's coloring than for Marcy's. But it would certainly keep Marcy warmer than that old, threadbare coat she'd been wearing. It was a very nice gesture for Marianne to make.

For the next hour he inched the SUV along down the plowed highway. He prayed that the wipers would
hold up to the snow and keep the windshield clear enough for him to see the road ahead. Thirty miles later he knew it was time to stop and shovel the snow off by hand. It was thick enough now to make convenience-store slushies.

“Why are you stopping?” Marcy asked with a yawn.

“I need to clear the snow.” He stepped out of the SUV, but only stayed outside for long enough to swipe his arm across the expanse of glass. Before he was seated back inside, the snow was thick again.

“Should we turn back?” The tension and fear in Marcy's voice made him wish they had never started. He didn't want her to be afraid. He would take care of them. It was only a snowstorm.

He shook his head and set the transmission in low gear. “We've come too far. If we keep going, we may outrun the worst of the storm. It seems to be passing over our heads at a pretty good clip.”

Actually, those words sounded hollow to his ears. Like wishful thinking. The truth was, with every mile they traveled, the snowfall worsened. But turning around would be crazy. Best to keep moving forward.

Down the road in another half hour, a different problem presented itself. The highway they were on had obviously been plowed earlier today, but now it was drifting over under buckets of snow flurries.

Before he had a chance to wonder if they should keep going under the onslaught, he caught sight of deep tire tracks in the road ahead. Looked as if a semi was moving along the same highway just in front of
them. He breathed a little easier and kept his eyes trained on those tracks.

Flicking a glance in Marcy's direction, he saw that she'd gripped the door handle and her knuckles were white with tension. She hadn't seen the tracks of their fellow traveler yet and her whole body was tight. He needed to take that panic off her shoulders somehow.

Clearing his throat, he started talking in as calm a voice as he could manage. “Looks like we're right behind a trucker. If he thinks the road is good enough to navigate, then I'm not too worried. We'll follow his tracks.”

She didn't make a comment and he figured he'd better keep on talking. “Do you need to check on Angie? She's been awfully quiet.”

Marcy released a pent-up breath, and he was glad to know she was at least breathing. “The baby's asleep. It's dark and warm and cozy in here…for her.”

Marcy's voice wasn't all that steady. But he'd gotten her to talk and breathe. That was something.

“I sure wish it was daylight so you could see the scenery,” he quickly told her. “The mountains and rocks in the Badlands are spectacular. Giant, craggy peaks tower over the road right in this section. They make a phenomenal picture. Just like a postcard.”

As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Lance saw red taillights flashing directly up ahead. He gingerly put his foot on the brake, hoping he had enough time to come to a stop without skidding off the road.

Marcy hissed in a breath. “What's going on?”

When the SUV slowed to a halt, Lance put it in
Park and pulled the Stetson lower on his forehead. “I don't know but I intend to find out in a minute.”

As soon as he'd walked ten feet, he immediately saw the problem. But it took him fifteen minutes to discuss potential solutions with the handful of truckers that had gathered out in the storm and stood gabbing in the middle of the road.

By the time he climbed back in the driver's seat, he'd come to a decision. “The road's closed,” he told Marcy. “The heavy snow caused a slide. It'll take hours, maybe a day, to dig it out.”

“What are we going to do?”

“Half a mile back we passed a side road that leads to a friend's house,” he said in a fairly steady voice. “It's no more than three miles off this road to his ranch. We'll go there. Wait out the storm until they clear the road.”

“A friend? What friend?”

He took the SUV out of Park and eased it into a 180-degree turn. “Hank's brother, Bobby, and his wife, Vicki. You'll like them.”

“No.”

The sudden panic in her voice caused him to put on the brakes so he could turn and really look at her. “What…?”

“We can't go there,” she said with a nearly hysterical crack in her voice. “Marianne told me Bobby and his wife are in Florida for the holidays. They aren't at their ranch.”

She put her hand on his arm and squeezed. “What are we going to do?”

“D
on't panic.” His voice was smooth and low, and a smile touched the corners of his mouth. “We can still find shelter at Bobby's ranch. I helped him build the place, and I know where they keep everything. Bobby and Vicki won't mind if we stay there until the roads are clear.”

It wasn't so much Lance's words as his calm manner that gave her the hope everything would be all right. “Well, if you're sure they won't mind.” Marcy pried her fingers off his arm and tried a hesitant smile. “I'm a little concerned about Angie.”

The minute she'd said it, she realized it was not the baby who was frightened. In fact, Angie seemed to be holding up quite well to this harrowing trip. Marcy had seen plenty of snow while growing up back at home, but this storm and the thought of being
lost in a blinding blizzard was driving her to distraction.

It was also true that baby Angie hadn't needed to worry about fighting off
both
the elements and a nutty desire for the man who was seeing them through. Every minute, every mile brought Marcy closer to falling for the guy. She couldn't listen to his baritone voice without having a spark of need combust low in her belly. He couldn't so much as touch her arm without igniting a blaze that made her nearly blind with wanting to have him touch her everywhere.

It was crazy. It was erotic. She was toast.

Lance started up the SUV again and made sure the four-wheel-drive system was operational. “There's no need for Angie to be frightened. This is more of a snowsquall than a real storm.” He shot her a wicked wink, and Marcy felt a shivery tingle begin in the base of her spine.

“The farm road off the highway that leads to Bobby's ranch may not have been plowed,” Lance advised. “But we'll take it nice and slow…so Angie won't be scared.”

Marcy ducked her head and looked through the top of the windshield at more tons of falling snow than she'd ever before seen in one place at one time. Some “squall.” They'd be lucky if they weren't buried in it before they reached the ranch.

Lance drove on in the silent darkness for about twenty minutes. She watched as he tried to follow the fence posts along the side of the road. But he seemed to recognize different landmarks as they went, and Marcy felt the tension begin to leave her shoulders.

“The gate to Bobby's ranch road isn't easy to find at the best of times,” he muttered. “But it should be right up the way.”

“Is the house very much farther after we turn?”

“Not far. Maybe a quarter of a mile.”

His answer set her teeth on edge, and she hunched her shoulders again. What if Bobby's road was already buried in six feet of snow? What would they do?

Just as she was picturing the worst possible scenario, Lance said with a huff, “There it is.”

But as he turned the steering wheel, she felt the SUV slide on the icy buildup. Lance smoothly twisted the wheel in the same direction as the slide the way he should've, but the SUV did not respond. In a whirling flash of flying snow and the loud crunching of tires on ice, the back end of the SUV swung wild.

Before she could let out the scream that was building, the left rear of the SUV sank into a deep hole and ground to a halt. Suddenly they were immobile and tipping precariously to the port side. Marcy held her breath, waiting for something worse to happen.

Lance sat and studied their position for a few moments. Then he turned off the key. “I suspect that's as far as we're going tonight. Give me a minute to check how badly the rear end is buried.”

She didn't want to be left alone with the baby. “No, wait. I'll go out with you. Together maybe we can push the SUV out of the drift.”

Lance stilled, turned to face her and touched her shoulder with his gloved hand. “Trust me, Marcy. I won't be more than five feet away from the SUV the
whole time. If I find there's anything we can do together to free us, I'll let you know.

“Stay with Angie,” he admonished. “If she wakes up, you need to be where she can see you. I'll only be outside for a few minutes…tops.”

Marcy inhaled deeply and nodded her head. She did trust him and needed to get her fears back under control.

He unbuckled his belt and shoved open the driver's door. The SUV listed to that side, but he managed to get the door open far enough to escape into the blowing storm.

After he closed the door behind him, she unbuckled her own belt and twisted in her seat to check on the baby. So far, Angie hadn't budged. It would probably take a little time for her child to notice the lack of motion, become aware of the growing chill and wake up.

Marcy wondered how long it would take for the interior of the SUV to cool, now that the motor and the heater had been shut down. She was afraid it could get really frigid in here…really fast.

Before she had the opportunity to become too concerned about their situation, Lance jerked open the back right passenger door. A blast of cold air crashed into the interior of the SUV, and Marcy found herself up on her knees and pushing through between the seats to reach Angie in that same instant. All she could think of was reaching her suddenly awake and sobbing child.

“The tire landed in a snowdrift that was covering a ditch,” Lance hollered over the noise of wind rush
ing through the SUV and the baby's cries. “It would take some time before we could free the tire. But it's still snowing and I don't want to take any chances with you two. We'll be better off hiking to the ranch house. I'll come back and retrieve our things after I make sure you're safe.”

She didn't like the idea of hiking with Angie in this weather. But there didn't seem to be much choice. And in the meantime, Lance was working to release the baby from her restraints.

He pulled Angie free and captured her against his chest with one strong arm. Then he bent over the seat and with his free hand dragged out the army blanket from the rear compartment.

“Button up your parka,” he demanded. “The temperature is dropping again.”

Marcy flipped up the hood on her parka and scrambled out of the back seat. Dropping into snow that was deep enough to reach clear up to her butt, she had to grab Lance's arm in order to steady herself. How were they supposed to walk in this mess?

After catching her balance she stood beside Lance, trying to ignore being half buried in snow while she tightened up Angie's snowsuit. Pulling the baby's cap down tight, she realized Angie had stopped crying the very moment that Lance picked her up. Now her child's eyes were growing wide as she began to pick up on her mother's fear. Marcy cautioned herself to calm down.

Lance took a quick inventory of everyone's clothing, checking the snaps on all the coats. “I don't want you walking in those lightweight shoes,” he told
Marcy with one last tug to make sure everything was buttoned down tightly.

He handed Angie over to her, then put the blanket over both their heads. “You carry the baby. I'll carry you.”

“What…?”

Without another word, he swept her off her feet—baby, army blanket and all.

“But, Lance… We're too much for you. I can walk.”

“Of course you can walk,” he said with a smile in his voice. “But the snow is three feet deep already. And if we don't get to the ranch shortly, it may drift over the road another foot or so. You can't walk in snow up to your chin.”

Marcy tightened her arms around Angie and closed her eyes. She felt safe and warm next to his chest and began to relax.

In a few more moments she leaned her cheek comfortably against his shoulder. She could hear his heart, beating in strong, even pulses as he strode effortlessly through the building blizzard.

 

Marcy lost track of time but soon noticed Lance's breathing become labored. Her first reaction was embarrassing. All of a sudden she wanted to hear his breath catch that same way while they were making love. She could picture him, laboring above her to give them both the ultimate pleasure.

It was an exciting thought. And it drove an electric jolt straight through her.

But then the reality of their current, dire situation
flashed in her mind. What had gone so wrong that he suddenly needed to work hard? It also seemed their walk had taken too long. Had he become blinded by the swirling snow? She'd read of such things happening, and the thought of it produced nightmare images in her head.

“We've arrived,” Lance announced right at that moment. “I'll just carry you up onto the front porch before I set you down. It's covered and fairly dry. Then I'll go retrieve the keys and let you two inside.”

She felt him climbing what must have been the stairs. When he gently lowered her to her feet, she peeked out from the blanket.

“Stay here,” he thundered. “I'll be back in a few minutes.”

As he disappeared, Marcy tightened her grip around the baby. Angie had fallen fast asleep against her shoulder and now lay there like a heavy lump of mashed potatoes.

Marcy checked their surroundings. They were standing before a wide door, underneath an overhanging cover that dipped low toward the ground on the front side. A light next to the door illuminated the porch, or it might have been as dark as a cave. Bobby and Vicki must have their outside lights on a timer.

Without the warmth of Lance's chest, the cold began to seep right into her veins. She stomped her feet in an effort to stave off the icy sensations creeping steadily inside her clothes and beginning to numb the lower half of her body.

Moving closer to the door in a fight to get out of the wind and stay a little warmer, she hoped that
Lance would hurry back. And she tried to bury the fear that coming here was a big mistake.

Meanwhile, Lance was fighting with the combination lock on the storage building attached to the side of the house. The temperature had all of a sudden dropped dangerously low, and his fingers refused to work properly. He knew the cold meant that the snowfall would probably slow soon. But then in short order the wind would drive what was on the ground into huge drifts covering everything over with a blinding haze of white.

He needed to pick up the keys and get back to Marcy and the baby fast.

At last the lock clicked open, and Lance didn't waste a second reaching inside for the house keys that he knew were hanging on a nail just inside the door. Once he had them, he jammed the lock shut and headed back to the front porch.

When he first rounded the corner of the house, he didn't see the two females. Oh, man. Marcy hadn't stepped out into this whirl of snow, had she? He set his jaw and prepared for the worst.

“Marcy,” he called over the roar of the wind. “Where are you?”

When he heard a muffled noise coming from a darkened alcove on the porch, his heart started up again. Closing the distance between them in two hefty strides, he wrapped his arms around both of them and began moving toward the front door. The key went smoothly into the lock and the door thankfully swung open with little trouble.

“Let's get you two inside and warm,” he said with a gruff voice.

After shuttling them inside and slamming the outer door behind him, Lance flipped on a light and moved the whole group forward into the great room. “You stand in here a second, but don't take off your coats until I have a chance to turn up the thermostat.”

He unwrapped the blanket from around their heads and let it drop to the floor. Most of the accumulation of snow had already dropped off it onto the porch. As Marcy's face came into view, his breath caught in his chest. The tip of her nose was pink, which he hoped was actually a good sign. But her eyes were glazed and her cheeks were the palest color of white he'd ever seen on a human.

Not sure what to do for her first, he felt conflicted. But he had to do something—and fast.

“Don't try to move,” he croaked. “Wait.”

Lance never moved so fast in his life. In seconds he had pushed up the heat. He blessed Bobby for leaving not only the heat on, and set at about fifty degrees, but also for leaving logs placed in the raised hearth. Even the kindling was already set out under the grate.

He opened the flue and lit a match, watching while the fire caught before closing the glass fire door in front of the hearth. That should warm things up in here within a few minutes.

Turning back to Marcy, he saw she was shivering so violently that Angie was beginning to stir against her shoulder. He took the baby from her arms.

Vicki had left a thick afghan slung across the back
of the sofa. He wrapped Angie up in it tightly, and then laid her on the cozy suede cushions.

Returning to Marcy, he wasn't sure what the best thing to do for her might be. Her teeth were chattering as she swayed uneasily on her feet.

He didn't take the time to think. Swinging Marcy up in his arms, he hugged her close and stepped nearer the hearth.

“It's all right,” he murmured, more to himself than for her benefit. “You'll warm up in a minute. Everything will be fine.”

He closed his eyes and prayed that he was right. She just had to be okay.

The fire raged behind the glass doors as he stood there quietly praying. He couldn't remember ever having been so afraid.

Nothing much had so affected him in the past. Not the rodeo with bulls charging and stomping faster than he could get out of their way. Not even the bucking horses on the ranch that might mean the end of a career with one wrong twist. No weather, physical pain or even long periods of being alone on the road had put this kind of gut-wrenching fear in his belly.

The more he thought about it, the more he realized only one time in his life had he come close to this kind of horrific panic. And that was when his father had dropped him off at his grandmother's house at the age of eight—leaving him lonely and scared beyond imagining.

But this time the gnawing fear seemed much worse. Marcy. He suddenly realized that she'd come to mean
more to him than he'd thought. A tiny drop of sweat beaded at his temple and ran down his neck.