Ranch At River's End. Brenda Mott

not a stranger. I work with him—well, sort of.” She wrinkled her nose, remembering the way Jordan’s hands had felt as he’d tended to her head injury.

      “Whatever.” Chris rolled his eyes and bounced back against the seat.

      Suddenly, Darci remembered seeing a similar black SUV parked down the street from her and Chris’s place, in front of the blue split-level. The one with a neatly landscaped front yard she envied, and a couple of acres behind it. At least, it looked like the same SUV, with an Honor Student bumper sticker.

      Darci pulled up beside the Ford and rolled down her window.

      “Hi,” she said. “Need some help?”

      Jordan looked sheepish. “Thanks, we’re fine.”

      Darci noted he had a little girl—his daughter?—with him. The kid was cute, with long, light brown hair and big blue eyes.

      “You don’t look fine,” Darci said.

      He shrugged. “I picked up a nail—” he gestured toward the flat “—and, uh, apparently I didn’t maintain my spare tire very well. It’s low on air.” He glared at his cell phone. “And I’m not getting a signal in this spot for whatever reason.”

      “Mountains,” Darci said, pointing to the surrounding peaks. “My service comes and goes in the oddest places.”

      “Reception’s normally pretty good here.” He shrugged. “Maybe it’s the weather.”

      “Need a lift to the gas station?”

      “It’s closed.” He grunted. “Believe it or not, Harry—the owner—took off for the Labor Day holiday weekend to go fishing. You’d think he’d stick around for the tourists coming through.”

      “How about the convenience store? They have an air pump, don’t they?”

      Jordan’s face went instantly pale, and Darci thought for a minute he was going to pull the same fainting stunt she had done in the E.R. earlier.

      “You okay?”

      “Not there,” he said.

      “Pardon?”

      “I don’t use the convenience store.”

      “O-kay. Oh, wait. I forgot. I’ve got a portable compressor in my trunk.” She’d bought it for the four-hour road trip when she and Chris had moved here. “I’ll pump up your spare for you.”

      “I’ll do it,” he said. “Thanks.”

      “Okay. Let me turn around and park. Be right back.” Once more, Darci drove down the street and found a place to change direction, then pulled in behind Jordan.

      A honey locust tree grew near the edge of the curb where she’d parked, its overhanging branches offering shelter from the steady rain. That way she could leave the windows down to let in some air. The rain had turned the August evening muggy. “If it gets too stuffy in here, Chris, you can get out,” she said.

      “Can’t I walk home?”

      “No. You can wait. Stop being rude.”

      “Whatever.” He stuck his earbuds in and slumped down in the seat again.

      From her trunk, Darci retrieved the portable air compressor. Compact in size, it plugged into a vehicle’s cigarette lighter. Still, Jordan reached to take it for her as she neared the Explorer. His hand brushed hers, and Darci bit her lip.

      “Thank you,” he said. “Michaela and I appreciate it.”

      “No problem.” She grinned. “It’s the least I can do to return the favor of you stitching up my noggin.”

      He chuckled, and the sound washed over her, much warmer than the rain.

      Jordan had lowered the spare tire rack from underneath the vehicle and removed the thick-treaded radial, laying it on its side. While he hooked up the compressor to an accessory adaptor beneath the SUV’s dashboard, Darci clamped the air hose onto the spare. As she straightened back up, she glanced inside the vehicle and frowned. The huge SUV was equipped with enough seats for seven people, yet they were all folded down, except for the two up front. It was as though Jordan Drake and his daughter were the only people who rode in it. Did he have a wife? she wondered again.

      The cargo area was practically bare, other than a couple of odds and ends—a small tool box, a pair of kids’ tennis shoes, a rope like the kind you might use on a boat.

      Odd.

      Why would anyone bother to drive such a big, environmentally unfriendly vehicle if they weren’t going to utilize its potential? Darci realized Michaela was staring at her over the back of the passenger seat, and she smiled at the girl, giving her a small wave. Michaela smiled back shyly and returned the wave with a lift of her hand, then turned to face forward once again.

      Darci couldn’t help but notice the scar on the child’s face and wondered what had happened. Had she been in a car accident? Cute kid. She seemed about Christopher’s age.

      “Looks kind of bare, doesn’t it?”

      Jordan’s voice startled her as he stepped up beside Darci.

      She hadn’t meant to be nosy. “No—it—I was just admiring your SUV.”

      He gestured toward the folded up seats. “Michaela and I are the only ones who usually ride in it.”

      The words were casual, but his voice sounded oddly strained, and Darci couldn’t help but wonder if there was something he wasn’t saying. Just because he and his daughter were the only two who used the SUV didn’t mean he had to fold the other seats down, did it? Darci found the situation odd but shrugged it off.

      Jordan crouched beside the Ford to keep track of the air compressor’s progress, watching the attached dial gauge.

      It would take a good fifteen to twenty minutes for the tire to fill, and Darci was getting wet. She wondered if she could go back to sit in her car, or if that would seem rude.

      After all, Jordan was getting pelted by the rain, too.

      “Have you got a jack?” she asked, opting to stay and help. “I can remove the other tire if you want.”

      “I’ll get it,” he said, “but you don’t need to stand out here getting wet. I can do it.”

      “I don’t mind,” she said.

      Jordan went around to the front of the SUV and took a scissor jack from beneath the hood. Returning, he slid it underneath the SUV and crawled after it to adjust the jack’s position, then wriggled back out. Crouching again, he twisted the jack handle clockwise, raising the frame to lift the flat off the ground.

      A sudden bang startled her, and for a split second, Darci thought the radial had overinflated and blown up. Involuntarily, she let out a little shriek—just as Jordan flung himself against her, shielding her body with his own.

      What the…?

      Darci grimaced self-consciously as she realized the loud noise had come from an old pickup truck that had driven past and backfired. Silly her. She glanced up into Jordan’s face, prepared to apologize for shrieking.

      He was sweating so profusely even the rain couldn’t hide it. And the fear that crossed his features was so intense….

      What on earth?

      “You okay?” Darci asked. “It was only a truck backfiring.”

      Looking embarrassed, Jordan took a step back. “Sorry,” he said gruffly. Without another word, he turned his attention to removing the flat. “You might as well get out of the rain. No sense in us both getting wet.”

      “Okay. Sure.”

      Darci sat in her car, pondering what had just happened. Lost in thought, she nearly jumped when Jordan tapped on