people anxiety. “I couldn’t call her. My phone—”
“No service out here for regular cell phones. That’s why she sent me.” He opened the door as she hit the button to roll the window up. She twisted to grab her coat from the backseat and got her purse and laptop bag. He extended his free hand and, after a second’s hesitation, she took it and he pulled her out of the car. She was a little surprised at how tall he was—even though she was in heels he topped her by a head.
Despite the chill in the air, his palm was warm and rough as it slid over hers. The little shiver that ran down her spine had to be from the shock of the cold rain in late August, not his touch.
“Go ahead and get in the truck,” he said. “I’ll get the rest of your stuff.”
“Thank you,” she said, and marched across the sodden, uneven road, her boots with their three-inch heels sinking into the dirt. She was afraid she was going to lose one. They, like her, were made for city sidewalks. In retrospect, probably not the best footwear for Montana.
She climbed into the big red dually pickup and sank into the buttery leather seats. This wasn’t what she’d expected. She’d thought it’d be threadbare, dirty, more of a working truck for a cowboy. Which she knew from her aunt was what Luke considered himself now. It smelled like—
Luke.
As he opened the back door of the truck and put her bags in, she got another whiff of the fresh air and rain mixed with the scent of laundry soap and something a little spicy. She stopped herself from taking a deep inhale.
She’d been involved with a celebrity once. It had cost her more than she’d ever expected to pay. She wasn’t going to fall into that trap again, not for love or money.
“I took everything out of the trunk,” he said, turning slightly toward her so she got the whole effect of those eyes. Oh, my. “Is there anything else you need?”
“No, that’s everything. Thank you.” Her tone was a little prim, even to her own ears.
He arched a brow. “Those are two, full, heavy suitcases. How did you get them on the plane?”
She gave him a tight smile. “Paid extra. Of course.” She’d packed a few of her favorite pans and utensils. She wasn’t going to explain that to him.
“What about the car?” she asked as he climbed in the truck. “Can we just leave it there?”
“We’ll have to for tonight. In the morning I’ll come back and pull it out. I’d like to be able to see if there’s any damage.”
She swallowed a sigh. Damage to the rental car. She’d bought the insurance policy that they offered and she hoped it would cover it in this situation. She’d worry about it in the morning. “All right. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” He put the truck in gear and made a series of short turns that eventually had the big truck facing the other way on the road. Josie just sat there, her hands in her lap. It was quiet in the truck, except for the rhythmic thumping of the windshield wipers. If she wasn’t careful, it could lull her to sleep. Her day was finally catching up to her. She’d gotten up at four that morning to catch her flight. She glanced at the clock on the dash. It was almost nine now.
Los Angeles seemed like a lifetime away. That was probably for the best. She wondered if Aunt Rosa’s no-gossip policy extended to her, too. Had she told Luke about Josie’s recent troubles?
She sneaked a little look at his profile, which was illuminated by the dash lights. His chin was strong and his hair was cut short under that hat. His shirt was soaked, and did a nice job of outlining strong arms. Aunt Rosa didn’t say much about her famous employer, but she had said he was a hard worker. Those arms seemed to be proof of that.
Not that she was looking, of course.
She tore her eyes away and fixed them on the bit of road she could see in the swath of light from the truck’s headlights. The rain ran in rivulets down the sides of the road, and a washout from that was probably what had pulled her off the road and into the ditch.
“Thank you,” she said finally, “for your help. I am sorry for making you come out in this weather.”
“You’re welcome. Did she tell you to wait until morning?”
Now she heard the note of censure in his tone. But all Josie had wanted was to get away from the airports and into a real bed. “She did, yes.”
He glanced at her. “You didn’t think that maybe she knew what she was talking about?”
Josie threaded her fingers together so tight it hurt. “Of course I did. I just thought—” She trailed off. She’d thought it couldn’t be that bad. That remote meant a little ways out from town, that roads were paved, that there’d be people around. Somewhere. That she’d just be out in the country, not in the middle of nowhere in a monsoon. She combed her hair back from her face. Her neat knot had given up hours ago. “I was stupid. I’m completely aware of that.”
“Stupid can get you killed out here,” he said mildly, as if he was pointing out the obvious. “Soon enough this won’t be rain. It’ll be snow. It could take days to find someone who’s wandered off.”
A little shiver ran over her skin. She’d be gone before the snow set in, thank God. “Point taken. I’ll be careful.” Not that she’d be driving anywhere. She’d been driving for almost an hour past the last little town when she’d gone in the ditch. There’d be no quick trips out for anything, clearly.
Not like her neighborhood in LA, where she could walk everywhere if she wanted. She massaged her temples with her fingertips.
“Rough day?”
She laughed, because otherwise she’d start crying. And maybe never stop. “You could say that.” Her past few months had been a series of rough days. She was due for something better. Sometime. Any time. It was why she was up here in Montana instead of back at home in California trying to salvage her career.
Which, of course, was beyond fixing, as was her life as she’d known it. Stupid didn’t just kill a person. It could cost them everything.
Luke made a turn onto a tiny road that she didn’t even see in the rain and the dark, which meant she’d have missed it if she’d been on her own. They bumped along a rutted road for a quarter mile or so before passing through an open gate under an arch. They wound a little farther, and over a rise the house came into view.
Josie couldn’t contain her gasp. Even in the dark, she could see the house was a huge log home. Not a cabin—her aunt had referred to it as a cabin! A cabin was smallish. This place was closer to a mansion. Lights were on in many of the windows, and the front porch was illuminated as well, showing a row of Adirondack chairs. Luke pulled the truck off onto a short gravel drive that opened to a parking area. He stopped next to a low stone wall with soft lights set into it.
“We’ll have to make a run for it,” he said. “I can’t get any closer than this.” He cast a doubtful eye in the direction of her feet. “Don’t break an ankle, please.”
She snapped out of her awe and grabbed her laptop bag and purse. “Oh, I won’t. I can run in these. I’m a city girl, born and raised.” This was not a plus out here in the wilds of Montana, but she’d make it work for the next couple of months.
“That’s what I was afraid of,” he said, low enough she almost didn’t catch it, and got out, opened the back door and grabbed a suitcase. She got the other one, and it bumped along behind her as she half walked, half ran to the porch behind Luke, whose long stride made it impossible for her to keep up without trotting.
The heavy front door swung open. Aunt Rosa was framed in the light from the house, anxiety and relief etched on her face. “Josie! Oh, thank God you’re okay.”
Josie walked into her aunt’s embrace, even though it was awkward with all the bags she was juggling and she was soaking