looked out into the darkness, the flashlight still gripped tightly in her hand. Its beam still directed downward. She watched through the pouring rain outside as her rescuer made his way around the front of her car.
Thank You, Lord, for sending this man to help us. She placed a hand against her stomach, feeling the life stir beneath it. “We’re going to be all right, little one.” While she didn’t know this cowboy who had rescued them, Hannah knew in her heart that he would keep them safe.
Her rescuer stepped up to the driver’s side door and eased it open. He had the poncho draped over his head, one long arm holding the outer edge of it over the Civic’s roof to help shield her from the rain when she slid out.
Clutching her purse in one hand and the weighty flashlight in her other, Hannah turned, easing a foot out the open door.
“Let me get that,” he said, taking the flashlight from her. “Now, careful you don’t lose your footing,” her said, his words nearly drowned out by the loud pulse of rain hitting the poncho he held extended over them.
Nodding, she pushed to her feet. Only it wasn’t the water under her shoes that had her going down. It was her trembling legs which promptly gave way beneath her. The next thing Hannah knew, she was being swept up into a pair of strong arms and carried away from her car and the raging creek beyond.
“I c-can walk,” she protested.
“I can see that,” came his reply, concern lacing his words. “But I’m not taking any chances. Not when you’re having abdominal pains.”
“I’m not having them now,” she told him, closing her eyes, too exhausted to say any more. When they reached his truck, she expected Garrett to set her on her feet, but he held her securely against him as he opened the passenger door and placed her, as if she weighed nothing at all, up into the spacious bucket seat.
“Don’t take the poncho off until I close the door,” he told her. “I’ve got to go unhook the towrope from the truck and then we’ll get going.”
As soon as the heavy door slammed shut beside her, Hannah worked her way out from under the poncho, her gaze searching the curtain of rain coming down outside for the man God had sent in answer to her prayers. She latched on to his shadowy outline, this kindhearted cowboy who had become her lifeline when she’d thought all was lost. By the time he’d climbed into the driver’s seat, Garrett was soaked from his wide-brimmed cowboy hat to his muddied boots. Beneath the fading glow of the truck’s dome light, she could see the beads of water dripping from the damp tips of his wet, wavy hair.
“I’m so s-sorry you had to get out in this storm,” she said as he reached between them to place his wet cowboy hat onto the floor behind her seat.
“Given the alternative outcome, I thank the good Lord above for putting me in the right place at the right time,” he replied as he reached back between the seats to grab a thick woolen blanket. Handing it over to her, he said, “Shove that wet poncho to the floor and wrap up in this. I can hear your teeth chattering from over here.”
Nodding, she draped the blanket over herself, relishing the warmth it provided. “I c-can’t thank you enough for coming to my rescue.” Her hand moved to her swollen belly. “Our rescue.”
His gaze dropped to the rounded, blanket-draped mound and then back up to her face. “It’s going to be okay. I’m going to take you to my brother’s place, where you can warm yourself by the fireplace,” he said as he threw the truck into gear. “It’s closer than mine. We’ll hole up there until the storm lets up. You sure you’re all right?”
“I’m alive,” she replied with a grateful smile. “I’d say that’s far better than all right.”
He nodded.
“Do you think your brother will mind?” she asked, the chattering of her teeth easing somewhat as the blanket, along with the heat blasting up from the truck’s floor heater, began to ease the chill from her body.
“Jackson?” Garrett said, glancing her way. “Not a chance. The man is a social butterfly. He always welcomes company.” He turned the vehicle around and started back along the rain-soaked road.
The warmth filling the truck’s cab cocooned her as they drove through the storm. The farther away from the flooding creek they got, the more relaxed she felt. And tired. So very tired. She needed to stay awake. That was her first thought. But, as her eyelids grew heavier, she knew she was fighting a losing battle. While Garrett Wade was little more than a stranger to her, Hannah knew he’d been guided to that washed-out bridge by the Lord in answer to her prayers. He would keep her and the baby she carried inside her safe from the storm outside. Comforted by that knowledge, she closed her eyes and gave in to the exhaustion.
“Are you sure she’s only sleeping?”
“She’s been through a traumatic experience,” a vaguely familiar voice replied. “That sort of thing would wear anyone down.”
Hannah struggled to push away the haze of sleep as arms moved beneath her, lifting her. “Garrett?” she said sleepily, trying not to wince as her abdomen suddenly constricted, the pain slightly more intense than it had been before.
“I’ve got you,” he replied.
“You need me to take her?”
“I’ve got her,” Garrett said as he pivoted away from the truck. “Can you see to the door?”
“She doesn’t look to weigh much more than a bale of hay. I think my bum leg could have handled it.”
“Maybe so, but I promised to see her safely to your place and I intend to do just that.”
The passenger door slammed shut behind them as Garrett carried her toward what she assumed was his brother’s house, rousing Hannah more fully. She forced her eyes open, her gaze first settling on Garrett and then drifting over to the man keeping pace beside her rescuer. He was holding a large umbrella up over her and Garrett, heedless of the rain soaking into his flannel shirt.
As they neared the house, light from the porch spilled out across the man’s face. A face very like the man who held her in his arms. “You must be the butterfly,” Hannah said, trying not to show the worry she felt as the possibility that she might truly be in labor settled in.
He looked down at her in confusion and then cast a worried glance in his brother’s direction as they ascended the wide porch steps. “Are you sure she didn’t hit her head on the steering wheel or something when the bridge dropped out from under her car?”
Garrett hesitated, glancing down at her. “I don’t think so.”
“I didn’t,” Hannah replied with a slight shake of her head.
“But you heard what she just called me, right?” the younger man insisted. “Butterfly.”
“Oh, that,” Garrett said as they stepped beneath the protective covering of the porch roof. “She got that from me,” he explained as they crossed the porch. “I said you were a social butterfly,” Garrett added in clarification and then added impatiently, “Can you get the door?”
His brother yanked the screen door open and then stepped aside, holding it in place until Garrett had her safely inside the house. Then he followed with a frown. “You couldn’t have compared me to something else, like a wolf, for instance?”
Ignoring his brother’s muttered complaint, Garrett carried her into one of the rooms off the entryway, where he lowered her onto a large brown overstuffed sofa. Then he kneeled to slide the rain-soaked sneakers from her feet. “Best get these wet shoes off you.” He glanced back over his shoulder at his brother. “Got a thick pair of socks she could borrow?”
“Be right back,” his brother said.
“I don’t need...” she began, but he was already moving through the entryway in long-legged strides, his gait somewhat off.
“Yes,