Storm

       She was late, she was lost, and she was worried out of her mind about Megan.
       Lindy knew she couldn't go on much longer. Her back and shoulders ached from battling heavy winds and a winter storm over unfamiliar mountain roads. The last few miles, she hadn't been sure she'd get even this far. This part of Northern California was the back of beyond.
       She rounded another sharp corner and saw buildings, dark and forlorn, but some indication of civilization. She urged the big car on. It responded immediately, and then, just as quickly, went into a skid on the rain-slick road. Taking her foot off the accelerator, she rode out the skid and stopped the car. Water pounded on the roof of the car, louder now with the motor off. Lindy blew out her breath and sat still, feeling weariness spread through muscles already cramped by the long drive. She closed her eyes and rubbed her temples, trying to massage away a tension headache.
       After a moment, she picked up her cellular phone and pressed the numbers again. Megan hadn't answered any of her earlier calls, but she should be within range now, storm or no storm. Lindy waited eagerly to hear Megan's lilting hello on the other end, but there was no response. She checked her voice mail, but still no message from Megan. Damn! When she'd asked for directions to their cabin, Megan had assured her Jerry would meet her and lead the way up to their house. Now she'd have to find them on her own. Once she found out where she was.
       A flicker of movement, a flash of light, caught her eye. Lindy leaned forward, peering through the side window at the gas station just ahead. Maybe whoever was there could give her directions. She started the car and eased into the station's apron.
       She rolled down the window to call out and got a faceful of rain as the wind whipped away her words. Quickly she raised the window, then pushed open the door and eased out from under the wheel. The rain-lashed wind whipped around her, lifting the hem of her raincoat, drenching her stockinged knees and legs. She bunched her collar closer over the silk ascot at her throat, held onto her hat with the other hand, hunched her shoulders and ran. Right into a solid object. She stopped short.
       "Easy does it!" A pair of gloved hands gripped her forearms and steadied her on her feet.
       "Oh! I'm sorry. Are you all right?" Lindy looked up to see whom she'd crashed into. The rain drummed on her unsheltered face, unnoticed as she stared at the mountain in yellow rubber. She felt dwarfed. At five eight, she'd always considered herself tall, and she'd never been thin, but he made her feel positively petite. Disbelieving, she started at her own eye level, and then up, eyes widening, beyond the wide chest, the salt and pepper beard and mustache, up to lively green eyes that stared right back at her. A black curl escaped his red woolen ski hat under the hood of the slicker. The beginnings of a smile played on his lips.
       Ohmigod. Paul Bunyan.
       Amused at the image, she returned his smile. Her gaze flickered down, past broad shoulders and solid torso, long legs in yellow rain pants and settled on the big, high-top workboots.
       "Okay now?" he asked. "Bad time to be out of doors."
       "I'm fine." She drew back a pace. "Sorry about running into you like that."
       "No problem." He glanced at her car then back at her. "What are you doing out in this weather?"
       She pulled a tissue from her pocket and wiped the water from her eyes. The rain drenched her again. With a shrug, she replaced the sodden tissue. "Looking for Burl."
       "You found it." He sounded puzzled. "Why?"
       "Oh, thank God. Can you tell me how to get to-"
       "You'd better come in out of the rain." He gestured at the open door and a small office where a kerosene lamp cast a pale glow.
       Lindy frowned at the delay, but when a cold, wet trickle ran down her back and pooled at her waistline, she nodded and dashed inside. He followed her in and closed the door behind him.
       The small room felt much smaller. Lindy edged away, putting the width of a narrow counter between them. Now that she could see him better in the shadowy light, she saw he was undeniably attractive in a rough, rugged way. He wasn't LA chic, but whatever he was, it looked good on him. She dragged her gaze away when she realized he studied her just as curiously. "My cell phone isn't working," she said. "Do you suppose I could use this one?"
       "Won't do you any good. Power's out. Lines are down."
       "Oh." Lindy blinked. "When will the phone be fixed?"
       He shrugged. "Hard to tell-probably not as long as the storm lasts. Could be a coupla days, a week, who knows?"
       "A week?" Lindy's voice rose. How could she do without her lifeline to civilization for that long? That was presuming she found Jerry and Megan and they didn't all drown in this rain. Her head pounded. She took a deep breath. "Can you tell me how to get to Hidden Gulch Road?"
       He turned to a tattered map pinned up on one wall and pointed out a red dotted line that snaked away from a narrow black one. Lindy followed his finger tracing the road. Even at the best of times, she'd be reluctant to drive a road that twisty. And tonight, it had to be awful.
       "Road's all but closed. You won't get twenty feet up it."
       She bit her lip. "I have to."
       "Why?"
       "Some friends are expecting me." She made an effort to steady her voice. "They'll be worried if I don't show up. Jerry was supposed to come down and get me, but if I can't get them on the phone-"
       "Bad time to come visiting."
       Lord knew she'd meant to come long before this, but one thing or another had gotten in the way. There always seemed to be one more crisis to handle. And then the trouble with Brad, and the chaos that he had caused. Dissolving both a marriage and a shared business might be nothing unusual, but it took so much time. And it hurt. She sighed, wishing so many things could have been different. "Can't be helped. Babies come when they're ready."
       He slanted a quick glance at her middle.
       "Not me. My friend."
       "Hold on a moment." He zipped up the top to his yellow rain suit, settled the hood over his head and went out the door. Lindy peered through the smeared glass and watched him walk to a truck parked by some pumps. A hose snaked from one to a tank in the pickup bed.
       Even though the truck stood high off the ground on oversized tires, it couldn't dwarf him. To the contrary, he looked the right size to take on just about anything. Entertained by the quick fancy of seeing him wrestle the truck and win, she watched him check the gauge on the pump and replace the nozzle.
       When he came back to the office, his presence seemed to swell to fill the small space. Every inch of space was filled with him, with the smell of rain and wet rubber.
       Acutely aware of his green eyes taking in every detail of her raincoat and the blue-gray silk scarf she'd chosen to match her eyes, Lindy put her hand at her throat and fiddled with the knot of the scarf. "How did you pump gas if there's no power?"
       "Generator. Just enough juice for that."
       "Oh." There was no denying his interest. Nor his appeal. She watched his gaze hover on her eyes, then lower to her mouth, and resisted the urge to lick her lips.
       "I'm Hank Abbott," he said. "So you need to get up Hidden Gulch to see your friend who's having a baby."
       It took her a minute to nod. "My friends are counting on me. I didn't realize it would take so long to get here, and of course, the weather slowed me down--"
       "From where?" he asked abruptly.
       She paused. "I flew into San Francisco. Look, I really have to find my friends. They'll be worried about me."
       His green eyes narrowed. "You drove here through the storm? From the City?"
       Lindy nodded, distracted by the color of his eyes. The flecks of brown in the deep green reminded her of the forests she'd driven through to get here. All that wilderness had made her uneasy. She preferred sidewalks, skyscrapers and working telephones.
       His well-defined lips narrowed in censure as he stared down at her, then his voice roughened. "Lady, are you out of your mind? Didn't you listen to the weather report?"
       Lindy bridled. "I did-"
       "Not even a weatherproof coat, for God's sake."
       "I've got a slicker in my suitcase."
       "Does you a lot of good there, doesn't it?"
       Lindy swallowed a quick retort. She should have pulled over and changed when the weather got worse.
       "Didn't you hear the warnings to stay off the roads?"
       She nodded. She had no defense other than the overwhelming need to get to Megan, and that wasn't any of his business. All she wanted to do was make sure Megan was all right. Then she'd get out of her wet things and warm up in front of a fire "I have to get to my friend," she repeated. "She'll be worried about me."
       "What's the address?"
       "Hidden Gulch Road."
       "Lady, you can't drive that road tonight."
       "I have to. Can you just point me in the right direction?"
       "You'll get lost." He hesitated. "Look, if it's so important, I'll take you to your friends."
       "Oh, no, I couldn't! I mean, I'm sure I can manage."
       "You won't."
       She narrowed her eyes at his blunt statement. "How are you going to get up there if I can't?"
       "Ever hear of four-wheel drive?" He pointed at his truck, standing solid and sturdy in the sheeting rain.
       "If you wouldn't mind leading the way, I could follow you up."
       "Lady, a car isn't going to make it. It's with me or nothing."
       "Stop calling me lady!"
       "I introduced myself," he reminded her. "You didn't."
       She closed her eyes. Took a deep breath. "I'm Lindy Hollis."
       The mountain man stuck out a hand the size of a catcher's mitt and caught up her gloved hand. Through the various layers of leather and wool, Lindy felt his strength and body heat. The promise of warmth made her hang on past the point of politeness. He didn't seem to be any too ready to let go of her, either, but at last she pulled her hand back.
       "If you want to find your friends, I'm the only way you're going to do it."
       She shifted her weight from foot to foot. Her toes felt like ice.
       "Look. If you thought the road into Burl was bad, wait until you see this one. It's steep, got a lot of sharp switchbacks. It's unpaved. By now, there'll be a river of mud coming down it."
       She shivered again. He had a point. If anyone should know the local roads, it would be a local.
       "You're going to have to trust me."
       Trust? The very idea left a sour taste in her mouth. She'd learned first-hand that trusting left her wide open to betrayal and heartbreak. And this man wanted her to trust him. Trust a complete stranger? No way.
       "Let's get going. If you're going."