скачать книгу бесплатно
“That’s the idea.” He winked, put the Jeep in gear and eased down the accelerator. The tires slid, dug in and propelled them forward. “I’ve got a cell phone if you want to call home. Your folks are probably up worrying.”
Was that nice or what? Ryan definitely had done a lot of changing. “Thanks, but I tried with mine. I couldn’t get through. The storm.”
“Ah.” He concentrated on navigating through the whiteout conditions.
She didn’t say anything more. If she couldn’t make out the road in front of him, how could he? But he was somehow, driving with a steady confidence that made her take a closer look at the man Ryan Sanders had grown up to be.
A volunteer in the Peace Corps. A doctor. He was a man of contradictions. He still had that “I’m trouble” grin and the stubble on his jaw made him look rugged and outdoorsy. Mom was always mentioning Mary’s son on her weekly calls, but Kristin had dismissed him along with all the other eligible men Mom talked about.
Poor Mom, who was never going to give up hope for another wedding to plan. What was it Mom had said about Ryan? Kristin couldn’t remember. She automatically deleted any talk of men and marriage and how Mr. Right would come along one day.
There was no such thing as Mr. Right! How could Mom be in an unhappy marriage and be so blind to the truth?
Maybe it was how she made it through the day. Troubled, Kristin tried to turn her thoughts away from painful things. Stuff she tried not to think about, but going home only made it impossible to ignore. The hole in her family that remained—Allison. The missing face no one mentioned. The place at the table where a chair used to sit. The oldest sister who’d been alive and beautiful, and whom Kristin had loved with all her heart.
The years passed, her parents had slipped into a resigned distant marriage, her sisters had gone on to make homes and marriages of their own, but some things would never be the same. If there was something Allison’s death had taught her, it was that nothing lasted. Nothing. Not family, not love, not life.
Ryan broke the silence that had fallen between them. “Hey, are you hungry? There’s a drive-through that’s open. It’s the only one I’ve seen so far. If we don’t stop, it might be our last chance to eat until daybreak.”
“I’m starving. I definitely want to stop.”
“Looks like only the drive-through is open.” He braked in the parking lot to study the front doors. “Hope you don’t mind eating in here.”
“I’m not picky.”
“Me, either.” He slid to the order board, where the whiteout had blocked out half the menu. “I have no idea if you can see to order anything.”
“It’s no problem. There’s one of these near my town house. I know the menu by heart.”
“Me, too.” Why that surprised him, Ryan didn’t know. It made perfect sense she would eat at restaurants. He just didn’t picture her as the fast-food kind of girl.
A mumbling teenager who sounded unenthusiastic about his job took their orders. After waiting at the window while the winds kicked up, blowing the snow sideways, they were handed two sacks of piping-hot food. Ryan crept through the blizzard to park safely beneath the glow of a streetlight.
“Not that any of the light is reaching us,” Kristin commented with a wink as she unpacked the first bag.
Ryan flicked on the overhead lamp. “It’s weird. I haven’t seen snow since I went skiing winter vacation of my senior year in college. And it was on the slopes, not falling.”
“I bet it never snows in Phoenix.”
“Once, but it was just a skiff. The entire city shut down. It was incredible. Had that same amount fallen back home, no one would have blinked twice. I’ve sure missed real winters.”
Wind buffeted the driver’s side of the vehicle, and the gust of snow cloaked them entirely from the nighttime world. Kristin shivered with excitement. She loved a good winter storm. “It looks like you’re getting your wish. A full-fledged blizzard in the making!”
“Yeah, I’m one lucky guy.”
His crooked grin could devastate a less stalwart woman. Kristin gave thanks that she was a dedicated and sworn single gal who had full immunity to a man’s hundred-watt charisma. Because if she wasn’t, she’d be caught hook, line and sinker.
He probably charmed all the women in the Southwest with that grin, she thought as she clasped her hands together in prayer. She didn’t dare glance in Ryan’s direction to see if he’d bowed his head. She had grace to say, and she was going to say it.
But Ryan’s melted-chocolate baritone broke in before she could begin. “Dear Father, thank you for watching over us. For bringing us together on this night when we had hoped to be with family but found ourselves alone. Please watch over us on our journey north. In your name.”
“Amen,” they said together.
The whir of the heater and the fury of the storm filled the silence between them. Kristin unclasped her hands and didn’t dare to look at the man beside her. Paper crackled as Ryan dug through the closest sack. The crisp scent of hot greasy Tater Tots filled the air. The overhead dome lamp spotlighted the center console where Ryan was popping the tops off the little plastic salsa containers.
Why was her heart beating as if she’d just finished a ten-kilometer run? Kristin grabbed a straw, ripped off the paper wrapping, stabbed it into her soda and sipped hard. She’d never seen this side of Ryan Sanders before. She could remember him at church through their growing-up years, slumped on the pew next to his mother, staring off into space with the supremely bored look he’d perfected.
That boy had turned into a sincere man of faith? She never would have guessed the troublesome boy she remembered would have become so serious. Where had the real Ryan gone? Not that there was anything wrong with the man he’d turned out to be—not on the surface, anyway.
But what about deep inside? The parts of a person that were harder to discover? That was the real question. And it was why Kristin refused to date. Why she would never marry anyone.
Because you never knew what a person was really like, until it was too late.
“I think this is yours. Extra sour cream.” He held out the wrapped taco in his big, capable hands.
Healing hands, Kristin realized, and they looked it. Powerful but circumspect. “Th-thanks.”
The food was piping hot, but she hardly noticed as she unwrapped the chicken taco. Ryan was consuming his beef taco with great gusto. He stopped to nudge the container of hot sauce her way.
“No, too much for me.”
“I say, the hotter the better. I can have all of this?”
“Go for it.”
“Awesome.” He dumped an extreme amount of blistering sauce on his giant soft-shell taco and gave a moan of satisfaction after he took a bite and chewed. “Not nearly hot enough. I like melt-the-lid-off-the-jar hot.”
“There’s the Ryan I remember.”
“Hey, I grew up. But I really haven’t changed all that much. Down deep. I’m still a country boy at heart.”
A country boy? There was nothing obviously country in the polished, well-dressed man seated beside her. He looked as if he’d walked straight off the pages of a magazine. “You’ve been away from home for what, more than a dozen years?”
“Thirteen, nearly fourteen. What I can’t picture is you living in a big city. Why didn’t you marry your high-school sweetheart and buy a house near your folks?”
“Because I didn’t have a high-school sweetheart.” His innocent question took her back to places best left forgotten.
“Why not?”
His question was an innocent one—he didn’t know what he was doing to her by asking. The steel around her heart snapped tight into place, blocking out all the painful memories of that time in her life. When her older beloved sister had left home packed for a church retreat and bubbling with excitement, never to return again.
Kristin’s entire world changed that day. Nothing had ever been the same.
But Ryan had left the valley for greater things by then. With a football scholarship in hand and a free ride to an out-of-state university, he’d probably only heard about the small-plane crash that had taken several lives at the time. His mom had probably mentioned it to him on the phone when it happened, but it had only been a newsworthy item to him.
That day years ago had tipped her world on its side and showed her the truth. You could surround yourself with family and friends, make a marriage, a home and a family, go to church and pray faithfully, but it couldn’t protect a person. Not even God seemed to be able to do that.
The truth was too personal. She’d tried to talk about it before, but no one seemed to understand. Pastor Bill from her hometown church had been wonderful and understanding, but his well-meant advice had been useless. Why did God want to take Allison from them? She’d been beloved by everyone who knew her, and as an older sister, she’d been awesome. She was beautiful and kind, generous and selfless and smart. Anytime Kristin had needed her, her oldest sister had been there, no questions asked.
It wasn’t only her sister that she’d lost that day. She’d seen the world for what it truly was, and she couldn’t surround herself with people and things and pretend that if she was faithful enough, nothing could hurt her or those she loved.
Loss was inevitable. It was a part of life she didn’t care for, thank you very much. Kristin grabbed a Tater Tot and bit into the crispy, greasy goodness. Ryan was still waiting for an answer as he watched her, unwrapping his third taco.
“I’m just not into the whole marriage and kids thing.” She shrugged. It was a cop-out, she knew it, but there was no way this handsome man who probably had left a string of hopeful women pining away in Phoenix would understand.
“You’re a career woman. I get it.” Ryan chomped into his taco and chewed while he studied her thoughtfully, as if he were assessing her. Seeing something new in her. “Being a doc is great. I love what I do. It’s real satisfaction, gives your life meaning, when you love your work.”
“Yeah. That’s me. I love my job.” She did. So, why did her chest feel hollow as she took another bite of her chicken taco?
“I bet you’re good at what you do. I can see it.” He grabbed two Tater Tots and dragged them through the hot salsa. “You’re organized, smart, likable. Efficient, I bet.”
“Yeah, and a devoted workaholic.”
“Me, too. That’s the reason why I’m headed home to Montana after about a billion years of staying away.”
“Because you’re a workaholic?”
“Yeah. I’ve always had to stay wherever I was living. First it was because I was in college and I’d stay to get extra hours at whatever part-time job I had. I needed the money, and Mom understood that. But then it was med school and I needed to study. I was an intern and then a resident and there was no way I could get time off. I worked holidays.”
“And now you’re a doctor with your own practice. You make your own hours, right?”
“I wish.” He rolled his eyes. “I’m in control of my schedule more than I have been. But I’m low man on the totem pole. I’m in a practice with some of the top orthopedic surgeons in the Southwest, and they pull rank. Plus, it’s that student-loan thing again.”
“The one the size of a house?”
“Exactly. Sometimes on Saturdays when I’ve got paperwork piled as high as my computer monitor, I get this urge to run off and windsurf the day away on Lake Powell.”
“You windsurf?”
“I used to. Then I did something really inane. I decided to get engaged.”
“You’re getting married?”
“I’m not the type, I know. It took me about three months to figure that out after being dragged to a wedding planner to see about seven thousand different kinds of napkins we could get monogrammed, and my life flashed before my eyes. A life with no windsurfing. It didn’t work out.” He shrugged, as if it didn’t bother him a bit. “It was for the best.”
Kristin didn’t miss the shadows in his eyes. His tone might be light, but there was pain there. She could feel it as tangibly as the cold seeping in from outside. Whatever happened had been complicated and deeply painful.
She tried to think of something comforting to say, but drew a blank. No simple words of comfort or empathy could begin to ease the hurt from wounds in a person’s heart. She knew.
“Well, we better get a move on.” Ryan cleared his throat as if dismissing his loss or wiping away his sorrow. He crinkled up the paper wrappers, and the sound was as jarring and abrupt as his movements.
Kristin took the last bite of her taco as Ryan switched on the wipers. A few swipes of the blades and the accumulated snow was gone. The twin beams of the headlights reflected back to them in the whiteout conditions.
“Don’t worry. I’ll keep us safe.” He tossed her a roguishly charming wink, before putting the Jeep into gear.
“I wasn’t worried.” Kristin balled up the wrapper, pretending to be busy and unaffected by the man beside her.
He’s unhappy, she realized. Lonely. She knew what that was like. It was like the storm blocking out the glow from the town’s lights until there was only the cold darkness and the howl of the worsening storm. As if there could be no light to warm the long drive ahead.
Chapter Three
Ryan swore it felt as if they’d been driving for an eternity, but when he glanced at the clock in the dash, the green numbers showed less than two hours had passed. For one hundred and twenty long minutes they’d been creeping in a vast darkness, closed off from the world, the tenacious storm allowing him to see only a few feet in front of him.
Twice, he’d spotted the faint sudden pinpoint of on-coming headlights. Each vehicle had been traveling as slowly as he was, fighting to stay on the road. He hadn’t seen another driver in the past fifty-three minutes in front of him, behind him or on the other side of the double yellow.
Exhaustion made every nerve ending burn. Three times they’d stopped in the small towns off the highway to look for vacancies. No luck. Every other traveler had the same idea. They had no other option than to keep driving.
“How are you doing?” Kristin’s soothing alto broke the long silence between them. “Want to trade off driving?”
“Maybe. I figured we’d switch once we got to the next town.”
“Sounds good. If we don’t lose track of the road.”
“Pray this storm doesn’t get any worse.” Grim, Ryan recalled all the cases he’d read about in med school where innocent drivers had gotten caught in harsh winter storms and gone off the road. He saw how easily that could happen.
The blizzard closed in with a vengeance. The falling snow began to spin, washing over the windshield with a dizzying speed. The twin beams of the headlights glared on the downpour, reflecting back at him until he lost complete sight of the highway.
“Thank God for the tracks.” Kristin leaned forward, straining against her shoulder harness as if to help him watch for signs of danger. As if they were about to plunge off the road and down a ravine.
“Just what I was thinking.” Some brave soul was ahead of them. The lone set of tire tracks was rapidly filling with snow, but it was enough to keep him headed in the right direction. His vision blurred and he blinked hard.
Just stay alert, man. He fidgeted in his seat, fighting the belt. He could use the rest of his soda, both the sugar and caffeine would help, but he didn’t want to take his hand off the wheel or his attention from the road. There was no way he was going to let anything happen. He had Kristin to keep safe. Mom was waiting for him.
Thank you, Lord, for the help. The tire tracks in the snow unspooled ahead of them like a sign from above guiding them toward home.
Home. If his head wasn’t pounding from exhaustion and the effort of concentrating so hard, he could try to get his mind in the right place. He didn’t want Mom to see him like this, undecided and unhappy to be walking straight back to his past.
Luckily, driving took all his energy. He didn’t have to think about anything other than this moment and keeping the car on the road. It was like driving in a dark tunnel. He glued his attention to the tire tracks barely visible in the sheen of the headlights.
The road beneath them seemed to heave, tossing the SUV around. Fear hit him and he swung the wheel left, but it was too late. A tree bough swiped across the roof. The passenger-side tires dipped low into the pitch of the shoulder.
He saw it all in a flash, the sharp drop, the void of a forest. Already he was picturing what it would be like to crash through those thick limbs and plunge into the darkness, out of control. Flashes of car-accident victims he’d treated in the E.R. haunted him and he fought to stop the inevitable as the top-heavy SUV began to tip.
Please, Lord, he prayed as, teeth gritted, he fought the jolting steering wheel. A little help, please. Crashing into old-growth trees was going to be a very bad thing. Time slowed down. He saw the minute detail of the pine needles on the limb swinging toward them. Beside him Kristin gasped, grabbed the dash, expecting the worst, too.
Then, miraculously, the tires dug in. The vehicle swung left toward the level road, and he eased it to a shaking stop. Thank you, Father.
Adrenaline pumping, he tried not to think of everything that could have happened, how hurt they could have been and what those tire tracks meant. “That was a close one. Are you okay?”
Sheet white, Kristin studied him with wide eyes. She nodded. “But whoever is in that car isn’t.”
He didn’t answer. He flicked on the overhead dome light to see as he searched the dash for the hazard lights and hit them on. “Check around and see if there’s a first-aid kit. Then button up and come with me.”
Gone was the hint of the boy he’d been. He was all man, mature and focused. Reaching beneath the seat, Kristin’s fingers tapped over the nubby carpet and bumped into a plastic edge. She got down on all fours to extricate the small box and realized that Ryan was already climbing outside. The brutal subzero winds cut through the warm passenger compartment as he slammed the door shut. The night and storm stole him from her sight.
The box came loose. It was a first-aid kit, as she’d hoped it would be. Relieved, Kristin twisted back onto the seat, dug her mittens out of her coat. Her door swung open. Ryan stood just outside the light, shadow and substance as she held up the kit for him to see.
He took it from her. “Do you know how close we are to the next town?”
