Stranded with the Rancher. Tina Radcliffe

engine and run the heater. Keep the emergency brake on.”

      “You said you’re coming right back.”

      “That’s right.” He nodded, but continued talking. “I’ve got a first aid kit and crash cart supplies in the backseat in those two tackle boxes. The portable defibrillator is under the seat. There’s also emergency food and water in that red box. If you have to get out of the vehicle, stay away from the trees. We’re way too close to the ravine.”

      “We could have gone into the ravine?”

      “Those trees stopped us.”

      Stunned, she was silent for a moment. “I’d prefer not to die today if you don’t mind.”

      “I’ll try to remember that.” He stared deeply into her eyes as if searching for something. “Do you pray?” Dan asked.

      “What?”

      “Do you pray?”

      “I used to,” Beth murmured.

      “Now would be a good time to start again.” He tossed his Stetson in the backseat, turned up his collar and gently shut the door.

      The truck jostled as he lowered the liftgate and slid the snowmobile off the flatbed. The engine roared to life and a moment later the snowmobile’s headlight illuminated the truck and moved past. Barely a second later he was gone; swallowed up by the swirling snow.

      Beth closed her eyes and did what she always did when she was afraid. She began to count backward from one hundred, taking calming breaths.

      He’ll be back.

      Still the suffocating terror pressed in. That’s what your mother said. And she never came back.

      “Eighty-eight. Eighty-seven.”

      It had been a very long time since she had prayed. She’d spent her entire adult life focused on her goals, so she would never be in that place of desperation again. That vulnerable point, where God was her only hope.

      Yet here she was in the middle of nowhere. Lost. Her shot at the job she’d been waiting her entire career for was slipping through her fingers, and a cowboy pharmacist was out there risking his life on her behalf.

      “Sixty-four.”

      How had everything spun out of her careful control?

      Beth glanced around the truck cab. Exhaling, she watched a puff of breath appear like a small cloud, then evaporate.

      Pray, Dan had said.

      Did God even remember her?

      Lord, this is Bethy Rogers. I really need Your help.

       Chapter Two

      Beth exhaled. Her panicked breaths were accomplishing nothing more than creating a veil of condensation on the windshield. She wiped at the moisture with a gloved hand and then unbuttoned her wool coat. Then she checked her phone yet again.

      Dan had been gone thirty minutes.

      Her mind continued to race back and forth between worst-case scenarios.

      When the CB gave a static squawk Beth glanced down at the black box mounted between the passenger and driver seats. Maybe she should try to call someone on the radio to send help. Who would she contact? Ben? No, she didn’t want Ben or Sara out here risking their lives.

      Yet Dan Gallagher was. For her. Did he have family waiting for him?

      Beth swallowed hard, considering the implications of her dogged decision to get to Gunbarrel.

      Calm down.

      Dan’s job is dealing with snow emergencies. He’ll be fine. He’ll be back soon.

      Right?

      She leaned against the seat and stared at the ceiling of the cab. “Please, Lord, keep Dan safe.”

      Twice in one day she’d called upon the Lord. The realization stunned her. It had no doubt stunned Him, as well.

      Moments later the distant rumble of a snowmobile engine broke the silence.

      Apparently He was still listening.

      She whispered a thank-you and shoved open the door of the truck.

      The moment her booted foot pushed through the deep snow and made contact with the ground, she realized her error. Six inches of March snow covered a slick surface.

      Her feet scissored back and forth in a crazed dance as she made a frantic attempt to gain traction on the slippery ground.

      “Oomph.”

      Beth landed unceremoniously on her left side. Who knew snow could hurt so much? She rolled to her back and lay there, regrouping, as the snowflakes continued to fall on her.

      The hint of gas fumes tickled her nose a moment before Dan appeared. She barely knew the man, but as he towered above her, dressed all in black, with the helmet on and his goggles around his neck, she dared to release a small smile.

      Oh, he looked good. Very good.

      “You okay?” he asked.

      Beth met his concerned gaze. “I’ll be fine,” she murmured, as she struggled to a sitting position and then wiped the snow from her face.

      “How do you know?”

      “Because I’m a doctor and doctors don’t lie.” She arched a brow. “Hippocratic oath.”

      Dan chuckled, a wry smile curling his full lips before he suddenly sobered. “Loose translation. Besides, I wasn’t doubting your integrity. I was assessing you. No pain in the arm or shoulder? You landed awfully hard on that left side.”

      “You saw me fall?”

      “Yeah. Sorry.”

      She sighed and blew strands of hair out of her eyes. Her last attempt at dignity disappeared like the vaporous clouds she exhaled each time she spoke.

      “Let me help you up.”

      “No, I can—”

      Before she could continue her protest, he crouched down, wrapped an arm around her waist and heaved her to a standing position, all in one swift and heroic movement.

      “You sure you’re okay?” he asked again.

      Beth gave a tight little nod and then scooted inches away from him until her backside was flat against the passenger seat of the open cab. He was close, much too close. Close enough that the heat from the tall cowboy reached out to warm her.

      The fall she could handle. The genuine concern in Dan’s eyes, combined with the unexpected comfort and strength of his arm... Well, that was another matter. She brushed ineffectually at her limp, wet jeans.

      Oblivious to the fact that he was right in the middle of her personal space, Dan leaned against the inside of the door, his broad shoulders shielding her from the weather.

      “Do you want the good news first or the bad news?”

      “Bad new first. Always.”

      “We’re not going to make it to Gunbarrel tonight.”

      “Okay,” she said.

      “Really? You’re okay with that?” Confused, he rubbed a hand over his face.

      “Let’s just say my priorities have shifted considerably.”

      He shook his head as if he understood. “Okay, then, well, the good news is we’re about ten miles outside of Paradise. Closer to the ranch than anywhere else.”

      “The ranch.” She nodded. “And your wife, she won’t mind that you’re bringing home a strange woman?”

      “Are