The Rancher's Miracle Baby. April Arrington

barrel-racing horse, had experienced her fair share of close calls. And just like when they were about to take a tumble in the arena, the mare sensed danger approaching.

      Tammy looked past the trailer and studied the darkening horizon behind them. The wall of black clouds gathered momentum, increasing in size and staining the sky. It swallowed up the dying light of the late-afternoon sun, and a green hue bled through the inky darkness. Thick grass lining both sides of the isolated road rippled with each powerful surge of wind.

      Sour acid crept up the back of Tammy’s throat, parching her mouth. She jerked her eyes forward, refocused on the road and slammed her foot harder onto the accelerator. The engine rumbled, and the broken yellow line splitting the paved highway streamed by in a blur.

      “No need to panic,” she said, nodding absently. “It’s July. These storms blow over faster than they appear. I’ll just have to outrun it before it gets started.”

      She grinned. If there was one thing she was good at, it was racing. Heck, she didn’t have a gold buckle in the glove compartment and over three hundred grand in her savings account for nothing. And there hadn’t been a cloud in the sky this morning when she’d left Alabama and crossed the Georgia state line. Chances were, she and Razz would reach their destination earlier than planned.

      Her smile slipped. She just wished she’d stayed on the busy interstate instead of cutting through a backwoods town. Especially one that was eerily similar to her rural hometown without a soul in sight.

      But the empty road she’d taken was a shortcut. And loneliness had driven her to do what it had always done—made her act before thinking.

      A second round of strong kicks rocked the trailer again and reverberated against the metal walls. The clouds looked darker than ever in the rearview mirror.

      Calm down. She straightened and glanced at the trailer. Razz couldn’t hear or understand her, but talking to the horse would at least keep Tammy from freaking out.

      “We’ll pull over somewhere, ride it out and be at Raintree Ranch before you know it, Razz.” Tammy forced a laugh, seeking comfort in the sound of her own voice. A strategy she’d been forced to adopt as a child and still utilized at twenty-five. “Jen will be so glad to see you.”

      Her strained words fell into the empty cab and put a sinking feeling in her stomach. Lord, she wished Jen was with her now, sitting in the passenger seat and teasing her about speeding. A former barrel racer and Tammy’s best friend, Jen Taylor had always made traveling the rodeo circuit feel like home. But a year ago, Jen had gotten engaged, retired from racing and settled on Raintree Ranch in Georgia. And for the first time in eight years, Tammy no longer felt like she belonged on the circuit.

      Instead, she felt alone. More alone than she cared to admit.

      “Suck it up, girl,” Tammy muttered, studying the highway. “There’s no bawling on Sunday, and there are too many things to be grateful for. Think about taffeta and veils. Flowers and cakes. Rings and vows.”

      Jen’s wedding was worth a bit of bad weather, and with it only a month away, Tammy was determined to be the best dang maid of honor on earth. After scoring another big win in the arena, she’d left the circuit to help Jen finalize seating arrangements, accompany her to a final wedding gown fitting and plan the most fantastic bachelorette party ever known to woman. All in preparation for the bright future awaiting Jen.

      A future that included a husband, a home and, eventually, the many children Jen planned to have. Babies Tammy had been asked to serve as godmother to and hoped to shower with love one day.

      Tammy’s smile returned, her spirits lifting. Her best friend was getting married. Starting a family. “Babies,” she whispered.

      Fat raindrops splattered against the dusty windshield in quick succession, then stopped as abruptly as they’d begun. Tammy flipped the wipers on, wincing as the rubber jerked noisily over the glass, smearing brown streaks of dirt in her line of vision. A vicious clap of thunder boomed against the ground beneath them and vibrated her sunglasses on the dashboard.

      The angry storm wasn’t just gaining on them—it was gnashing at their heels.

      “It’s not that bad, Razz,” she said over the rumbles of thunder. “Just a little wind and rain.”

      Her eyes flicked over the empty landscape surrounding her. There were weeds, trees and fields but no houses or cars. There were no people. No signs of life. And nothing but static left on the radio.

      Tammy swallowed hard, mouth trembling. “We need to pull over.”

      That was what the guy on the radio had said. That was what all news reporters blared in warning as tornadoes approached. It was safer to stop and get out of the vehicle. But the idea of lying facedown in a ditch with nothing but jeans and a T-shirt separating her from the elements was too terrifying to imagine. And there was no way she could leave Razz in the trailer. She needed to find shelter for the mare. A stable or barn. Anything that would give Razz a stronger chance of survival than just running.

      “There’s got to be something soon.” She peered ahead and willed the truck faster up the hill. “We’ll just...”

      Her voice faded as several white balls tumbled across the road several feet ahead. Some bounced over the pavement and rolled into the grass. Others flew through the air sideways, never touching the ground. Dozens of them. One after the other.

      Baseballs...?

      She shook her head at the foolish thought, a panicked laugh escaping her. There were no kids playing outside in this weather. And there were no baseball games nearby—

      One struck the windshield, punching a hole through the glass and leaving a jagged web of cracks. Tammy stifled a scream and glanced at the passenger seat. Her chest clenched at the thick ball of ice wedged between the door and the seat.

      She gritted her teeth and faced forward, blinking rapidly against the wind stinging her eyes through the gaping hole in the windshield. “Everything’s okay, Razz.” Her voice pitched higher as she shielded her face with one hand. “I’m gonna get us somewhere safe.”

      The pounding kicks from inside the trailer intensified as hail hammered the truck and trailer. Razz cried out, the sound primal and fierce, and the trailer took a sharp swing to the left.

      Tammy grappled with the steering wheel, fighting the wind and managing to redirect the truck’s path. Mercifully, the hail stopped, and she sped over the crest of the hill and down the other side.

      Two dirt driveways appeared ahead, one on either side of the road and framed by a line of trees. There were no houses visible, but both roads had to lead somewhere. And wherever they ended, there had to be a better chance of shelter there than on the barren highway.

      “Which one?”

      Tammy hesitated, eyeing each entrance and catching sight of a wooden fence lining the dirt road on the right. A fence was promising. It meant a house might follow and, hopefully, people.

      “Right.” She shouted the word, demanding her stiff fingers loosen their death grip on the wheel long enough to make the turn.

      She slammed her foot on the accelerator again, turning her face to the side as a fresh surge of rain flew through the busted windshield, smacking against her cheeks. The truck bounced over the uneven ground, jerking her around in the cab and slinging her bottle of soda from the low cup holder to the floorboard.

      Tammy ducked her head, rubbed her wet face against her soggy shirtsleeve, then braved the lash of the rain again to scrutinize the end of the driveway.

      There was a house, a truck...and a stable.

      “Thank God,” she whispered, jerking the truck to a stop. “We’re going to be okay, Razz.”

      Tammy laid on the horn, then shoved the door open with her shoulder, forcing it out against the wind. No one emerged from the house, and there was no movement outside.

      Please. Oh, please let someone