Rancher To The Rescue. Arlene JamesЧитать онлайн книгу.
army from the tops of their heads to the soles of their feet. That was a tough life for a single father, however.
He approached the hissing car with a smile for a greeting, only to find that his damsel in distress had retreated into her vehicle. Lifting his eyebrows, he casually strolled up to the driver’s window and tapped on the glass.
“Howdy.” He gestured to the raised hood of her car. “Got a little trouble, I see. How about I take a look?”
For a long moment, she just stared at him with wide, forest green eyes. Then she folded in her lips and bit them. Finally, she rolled down the window a half inch or so.
“I don’t know you.”
He put out his hand. “Jacoby Smith, from Loco Man Ranch. Most folks call me Jake.”
She didn’t lower the window. Instead, she stared at him, biting her lips in what was obviously a nervous habit. He gestured toward the hood of her car again.
“I’m going to take a look.” Without giving her a chance to object, he stepped to the front of the car and began to take stock. “Can you start it?”
After a moment, she turned the key. It didn’t take long for him to diagnose the problem. He went to the window again, finding that she’d lowered it all the way, finally.
Fanning herself with her hand, she spoke before he had a chance to do so. “I suppose you’re Dodd’s kin.”
“That’s right. He was our uncle.”
She stopped fanning and squinted up at him. “I was sorry to hear he’d passed.”
“Thanks. My brothers and I were fond of the old boy.”
“You’d be one of those three nephews who used to spend summers with him, then.”
“Right again. And you are?”
“Fine,” she said quickly. “I’m fine.” Her dusky pink lips formed the words even as her gaze cut to the hood of her car. “Just need some water for the radiator, I think.”
Jake shook his head, irritated that she wouldn’t give him her name. Unlike so many others he’d met in the area, she wasn’t exactly a friendly sort, but she needed help. More than she knew.
“I think you’ve blown a head gasket. At least.”
“You can’t possibly know that for sure,” she scoffed, a hint of desperation in her voice.
“I’ve seen it many times. I happen to be a mechanic.”
She made a face, as if to say that only made his opinion more suspect.
“Look,” he snapped, “I’m not out here trying to drum up business.”
“Then why’d you stop?” she shot back, turning her head away. “You don’t know me.”
Recognizing the sound of impending tears, Jake pulled in a slow, calming breath. “I stopped,” he said evenly, “because no one should be left stranded beside the road in this heat. Is there anyone you can call for a lift?”
She thought for a minute, biting her lips, and shook her head.
He raised his hands, palms up, in a gesture meant to convey that they were out of options. “My son and I will be glad to give you a ride.”
Sniffing, she eyed him suspiciously. “I didn’t see anyone else in the truck.”
“He’s three,” Jake gritted out, reaching deep for patience. “You ought to be able to see the top of his car seat at least.”
She stuck her head out the window and studied the truck. Her thick, dark gold hair parted in the middle of her head and swung in a jaunty, ragged flip two or three inches above her shoulders. Sinking into the car again, she tucked the sun-kissed strands behind a dainty ear and muttered, “Oh, yes. I see that now.”
Heat radiated up off the pavement in blistering waves. Jake pushed back the brim of his hat. “We can take you wherever you need to go.”
She lifted her chin, swallowing hard and exposing her long, sleek neck and the delicate skin of her throat in the process. Jake’s chest tightened. He told himself it was concern, the fear that she was going to send him away, though he was her only immediate source of help. During his first deployment, he’d developed the habit of speaking silently to the Lord in moments of need, and this was one of those moments.
Lord, You’d better zap some sense into her. It’s not safe for her to sit out here in this heat. Even worse if she tries to walk wherever she’s headed.
To his relief, she slowly opened the car door and got out, slinging a large fabric bag over one shoulder. She was taller than he’d expected, and her blouse, worn over a full gray skirt, was of the medical variety, like the top half of a scrub suit. A muted green, it crisscrossed in front and tied at the side, creating a V neckline that exposed a dainty but prominent collarbone.
“In case you forgot, my name’s Jacoby Smith. Jake.”
“Jake,” she whispered in acknowledgment. “Kathryn Stepp.”
“Nice to meet you, Kathryn, despite the circumstances. Now, shall we?” He nodded at the truck. Reluctantly, her arms folded across her middle, she began to walk in that direction. Shortening his steps to keep pace with her, he asked, “Where can I take you?”
She bit her lips before saying, “I—I need to get to a client’s house. Sandy Cabbot. He’ll be wanting his lunch soon.”
“Don’t know him. How do I get there?”
“Just head on east to the county line, then go left. It’s only a few miles.”
“No problem. You’ll have to point out this county line to me, though.”
She seemed surprised by that. “Oh. All right.”
They drew alongside the truck. Jake opened the front passenger door for her and jerked his thumb toward the back seat. “That’s my boy, Frankie.”
Frankie waved at her. She waved back, smiling timidly, before climbing into the truck. Jake walked around, tossed his hat onto the back seat next to Frankie and slid behind the steering wheel in time to see her pass a trembling hand over her forehead.
He started the engine and rolled up the windows, sitting for a moment to let the cool air from the vents flow over them. “Tough morning, I take it.”
She nodded. He waited. After a long moment, she softly said, “Without that car, I can’t work, and if I can’t work, I can’t fix the car or...” She shrugged morosely.
“I find things usually look better if we give them some time,” Jake told her, getting the truck underway.
Muttering something about time running out, she pulled a cell phone from the pocket of her voluminous skirt. “I have to make a phone call.” He listened unapologetically as she placed the call and spoke into the phone. “Sandy, this is Kathryn again. I’ve got a ride. See you in a few minutes.”
She replaced the phone in her pocket then jerked when Frankie yelled, “Hey, lady!”
Jake briefly closed his eyes. His outgoing, energetic three-year-old didn’t take well to being ignored, and he habitually spoke at the top of his lungs. Tina claimed that was perfectly normal. Applying patience, Jake prepared to remind Frankie to use his “inside voice.” Before he had the chance, Kathryn Stepp twisted and gazed into the back seat.
“Hello.”
“Hay-ell-o!” Frankie repeated happily, mimicking her Oklahoma drawl.
Jake winced, but she laughed. “You’re a cutie.”
“You a cutie!” Frankie bellowed back at her.
“Take it down a notch, please,” Jake instructed.
She