Montana Miracle. Mary Wilson Anne

ground with her hand. The horn? Yes! She screamed, “Mac! Mac!”

      Chapter Four

      Mac found the problem—an ancient pine, more than twenty feet tall, weighted by the snow. It had snapped and fallen right across the road to Joanine’s. He went farther, past the tree, checking things out, and finally decided that he and Katherine could walk to Joanine’s. Once he got her there safely, he could go back to where he belonged.

      As he began to retrace his steps to the truck, he heard something, and even over the wind, he recognized the blare of the truck’s horn. Then it came again. He knew that Katherine had to be getting antsy. She wasn’t born and bred to this life. This sort of weather did strange things to people, even those who were used to it.

      When at last he reached the truck and opened the door, he found the cab empty. She hadn’t just panicked, she’d left the truck. He should have made his orders clearer, made her promise not to move. But she’d left in that flimsy jacket and designer boots, regardless of what he’d said.

      “Damn it all,” he muttered as he turned to look around him, into the night and storm. “Katherine!” he shouted into the wind. He cupped his hand at his mouth and tried again. “Katherine!”

      He reached back into the cab and hit the horn, holding it down for a couple of seconds before letting up to listen. At first he thought there was nothing, then he heard a voice. He wasn’t sure if he’d just imagined it until he heard it again.

      “Mac!”

      He took off in the direction of the sound, stumbling through the snow, but going as fast as he could. There was darkness all around, then he thought he saw something. A shadow in the swirling snow, crazy movement, thrashings, then Katherine crying, “Mac!”

      He headed for her, his progress slow, then he was there. He grabbed her hand, pulling and tugging, lifting her, then grasped both her hands. And without thinking he pulled her to him, and the next instant, her arms went around him, hugging him tightly, her face buried in his chest.

      The instant he held her, he felt something in him that he’d been trying to keep at bay. He’d known her an hour, tops, and his heart ached from a fear that came from knowing what could have happened to her. That fear caught at his middle and made his hold on her tighten for a moment. God, he’d never been good at being a Boy Scout, doing good deeds. Especially with a woman with green eyes who was threatening to make his carefully constructed new life show signs of weakness in its foundations.