Stranded with the Rancher. Janice Maynard

to know and trying to keep the checkbook in the black.

      Now, there would be no going back. What would this new awareness mean to their ongoing battle?

      Sometime later she realized that she must have dozed off again. One of her legs was trapped between Drew’s thighs. It was as if his body was trying to stake a claim. She knew she should wake him, if only to let him move his arm. But this moment was pleasurable despite the context.

      Once they were officially awake and alert, they would have to face things like a tiny water supply, dwindling stores of food, and the reality that no one knew where they were. All the harsh realities that defined them at the moment.

      Given that truth, she closed her eyes and drifted back to sleep.

      * * *

      When Drew woke up, he stifled a groan. His body was one big throbbing toothache, and he wasn’t at all sure he would be able to stand. But having Beth tucked up against him was a bonus. Carefully, he eased his arm out from under her head, wincing as the blood returned. Beth muttered and frowned when her cheek came to rest on the unsympathetic ground.

      He checked his watch. Seven thirty. Surely late enough for police and rescue personnel to begin going house to house. Rolling to his feet, he tried to ignore the sudden craving for eggs and bacon and hot coffee. Sadly, beef jerky was on the menu again. But not until Beth joined him.

      Standing on the ladder, he turned on his phone and held it as close as he could to the cellar doors, praying for a signal. Still nothing...not that he really expected an overnight miracle. The storm had probably destroyed numerous cell towers.

      He heard Beth sit up. “Any change?” she asked.

      He wanted to be able to give her good news, but there was none. “No. You okay?” She was nothing more than a dim outline in the gloom.

      “I’ve been better.”

      “We have to eat and drink something. If this drags on, we’ll need to keep our energy up.” He hopped down from his perch and located more beef jerky and water. “Welcome to breakfast, Survivor-style.”

      “Thanks. I think.”

      He joined her on the floor, their knees touching as they sat cross-legged on the crinkly blanket. “Somehow, during all those years in the Boy Scouts, I never imagined this scenario.”

      “Did you make it all the way to Eagle?”

      “Yeah. My dad was a stickler for never giving up on anything.”

      “Ah, now I get it,” she said. “That’s why you continue to browbeat me.”

      “Eat your breakfast, woman.”

      If he had to be trapped in a hole in the ground, Beth was the perfect companion. She hadn’t whined. She hadn’t panicked. Her sense of humor had survived the tornado intact even though she had to know, as he did, that things would probably get worse before they got better.

      Holding her as they slept last night tapped into more than his human need to cheat death. With all the societal expectations stripped away, he discovered something deeper than physical attraction. Beth Andrews had edged her way into his heart.

      That information was sensitive—need-to-know basis only. But it was something to be tucked away and savored at a later date.

      “Seriously, Drew. What are we going to do to pass the time? If we can’t use our flashlights, our options are seriously limited.”

      Several inappropriate suggestions came to mind immediately. But he squelched the impulse to voice them. “We can try lifting the doors again.”

      “And that will take all of ten minutes.”

      “Sarcasm, Beth? I thought we’d reached a détente.”

      A faint noise from above interrupted her answer. He put a hand on her knee. “Shh...did you hear that?”

       Four

      They both froze, their ears straining in the darkness. Next came the screech of metal, followed by a muffled shout. “Anybody down there?”

      Drew leapt to his feet, dragging Beth with him. “Yes,” he shouted. “Yes.”

      Beth was trembling. Hell, he probably was, too. He wrapped his arm around her narrow waist and she curled her arms around him. Together, they faced the specter of uncertainty.

      They waited for what seemed like forever but might only have been a minute or two. Thumps and curses rained down on them, along with dust particles that made them cough. The voice came again, louder this time. “Hang on.”

      Beth leaned into him. “What’s taking so long?”

      “I think they’re trying to move whatever has the doors stuck. It must be big.”

      She murmured something under her breath.

      “What?” he asked, still straining to hear what was going on up top.

      “I hope the doors don’t break and whatever that is doesn’t fall and crush us in this pit.”

      He chuckled, despite the tension gripping him. “An active imagination can be a curse at times.”

      “Tell me about it.”

      They fell silent again. All the commotion above them had ceased. Surely the rescue team had heard him shout.

      Beth voiced his concern. “What if they didn’t hear you? What if they went away?”

      “I don’t think they would give up without making sure no one is down here...even if they didn’t hear me.”

      But doubt began to creep in. Why was nothing happening?

      Beth burrowed her face into his chest. He held her close. “Don’t freak out. If they left, they’ll come back.” God, I hope so.

      He checked his watch. “It’s almost nine.”

      “What time did we hear the first shout?” The words were muffled.

      “I’m not sure. Maybe ten minutes ago? Fifteen?”

      The return of absolute silence was infinitely more difficult than if they had never received a ray of hope.

      Beth was shaking.

      He rubbed her back. “Hang on. We’ve made it this far.”

      Suddenly, the loud racket returned, a shrill high-pitched noise that might have been a winch. Then a dreadful dragging scrape, and finally a human shout.

      Seconds later the cellar doors were flung wide. The brilliant sunlight, after hours of captivity, blinded them.

      A figure crouched at the opening. “Ms. Andrews? Are you down there?”

      Drew shielded his eyes with his arm. “She is. And me, too. Is that you, Jed?”

      The minutes that followed were chaos. Drew boosted Beth up the ladder, passing her up to helping hands, and then followed her. He grabbed his brother in a bear hug. “God, I’m so glad to see you.”

      Jed’s face was grim. “You scared the hell out of me. No one had any idea where you were.” Two EMTs muscled in, checking Drew’s and Beth’s blood pressure, firing off questions, taking care of business. Drew gave a terse summation of the events that had stranded them below ground.

      It was easy to see why he and Beth had been trapped. Her small car, now a mangled mess of metal, had been snatched up and dumped...right on top of the cellar.

      When the immediate furor died, he searched for Beth. She had walked several hundred feet away and stood gazing at what was left of her fall pumpkin crop. Virtually nothing. The tornado had ripped across her land, decimating everything in its path.

      The