Randall Riches. Judy Christenberry

horses? He didn’t know, but he was glad she’d stopped. He hobbled out of the cab and checked the connection between the truck and the trailer. Then he opened the trailer and tested the halter Bella was wearing.

      “Everything is fine,” he pronounced to Sam. “I should have known since Gabe took care of it.”

      Sam said nothing.

      Once he was back inside, Sam pulled out a map. “I assume we’ll be going east on—”

      He stopped her. “No, we’re going north, through Utah, into western Wyoming.” He pointed out the route he wanted to take. “Okay?”

      “Whatever you say. I’d like to stop and buy you a couple of pillows. It will make the ride easier.”

      “I don’t need them,” he replied.

      Showing no emotion, she said, “Whatever you say,” repeating a phrase that should’ve pleased him. They settled into the truck and she started the motor.

      “Where were you going to stop for pillows?”

      “There’s a shopping center on the next block.”

      She didn’t urge him again to consider pillows. Finally, he said, “We might as well get a couple of pillows. Thanks for thinking of it.”

      “No problem.”

      She pulled into the economy store’s parking lot. “Do you need anything else?” she asked, as she reached for the door handle.

      “Did you get drinks?”

      “Yes, they’re in the back. I’ll get a couple out when I get back.”

      He watched her trot across the parking lot, wondering why she was irritating him. What she said had been perfectly polite, accommodating.

      She returned with two pillows and cases to cover them. She removed the plastic and slid them into the cases and handed them in to him. Then she grabbed a six-pack of sodas and put them on the floorboard.

      After she got in the truck, she told him to undo his seat belt and move to the middle of the seat.

      “Why?”

      “Well, since your right leg is the one hurting, we need to put it on the seat.”

      He insisted on putting the pillow against the door and putting both his feet on the seat next to her. She didn’t argue. She took the other pillow and put it under his foot. Then she got a soda and opened it, passing it to him. He assumed they were ready to go, but then she pulled the pills the doctor had given her out of her purse. “Take this,” she ordered, handing the small pill to him.

      “I don’t need it,” he said.

      “You’re already hurting. There’s no need to suffer.”

      With a sigh he took the pill, then sipped some soda. “Fine.”

      She didn’t reply.

      Once she started the truck, he relaxed against the door. The pillows had been a good idea. He began to feel bad about his difficult behavior. He noticed The Hot Skillet ahead. Thinking to make up for his boorishness, he said, “We can stop at the restaurant so you can tell your friends goodbye.”

      “No!” she replied sharply. “No, thanks, that’s not necessary.”

      “Why not?”

      “I don’t want them to know where I’m going.”

      “You didn’t take anything you shouldn’t have, did you?” He regretted the question. Her face paled and her jaw tightened.

      “No.”

      “I didn’t mean—” He broke off, remembering why he was still wary of her. “Hey, why did the doctor call you my fiancée?”

      Chapter Three

      “You sure must be popular with the ladies,” Samantha said, not directly answering his question. “Relax and go to sleep. I promise I won’t marry you while you’re napping.” Okay, so she shouldn’t be sarcastic, but she was tired of this man accusing her of something.

      “I didn’t mean to sound so suspicious,” he apologized, turning on the charm. “But a man gets alarmed when he’s told he’s engaged to a stranger. An attractive stranger, I’ll admit, but still a stranger.”

      “Like I said, you don’t have to worry. I’m not looking for a husband. Just a ride. So you can save your cowboy charm for someone more susceptible.”

      He chuckled, even as his eyelids began to droop. “You think I’m flirting?” His voice grew softer, a little slurred.

      Sam watched him out of the corner of her eye until she was sure he was down for the count.

      It wasn’t the first time she’d been falsely accused, though no one had ever suggested she was trying to trick a man into marriage. She’d discovered the newest person on the job had to walk a straight line or all kinds of sins would be heaped on her head. She kept her gaze on the road and he remained silent also.

      A couple of minutes later, he gave a little snore. She gradually relaxed. It took energy to resist that charm she’d accused him of using.

      At least she didn’t have to worry about Brad anymore. He had no idea where she was now. Thanks to Rich Randall. She looked at him once again noting how handsome he was. Frowning, she turned back to the road. He looked familiar, but she knew she hadn’t met him before.

      With a shrug, she shoved that thought away. The less she looked at him or talked to him, the better off she’d be.

      RICH SLEPT all morning. He awoke a couple of minutes around two when she stopped to fill up. She’d grabbed herself a hot dog while she was paying the bill. As she started to leave the station, she thought she ought to buy one for Rich, too. If he didn’t want it, she’d eat it. Breakfast seemed a long time ago.

      When she got in the truck cab, he was awake, frowning.

      “Is your ankle hurting?”

      “My ankle and my head. Where are we?”

      “We’re in Utah. Want a hog dog?”

      Still frowning, he sat up a little bit, reached for the hot dog with a thanks, and ate it quickly.

      When Sam held out another pill, he intended to refuse it, but the annoying pain had him reaching for it. Two minutes later, he was sleeping again.

      Samantha waited until he’d nodded off to eat her own hot dog. Then she nursed her soda, making it last as she headed down the road again. She’d checked Bella’s water while the truck filled, and the horse had seemed to be all right.

      She decided she’d need to watch for a horse motel when it got time to halt for the night. Rich hadn’t mentioned any place, even though he’d obviously driven this route before.

      But she was pleased. Flagstaff was behind her. And a new life was ahead of her.

      JUST THEN, the phone rang at the Randall home in Rawhide, Wyoming.

      “Jake, is that you?” a voice asked when Jake Randall picked up the phone.

      Jake knew he should recognize the voice of the caller, but he couldn’t quite place it. “Yeah, who’s this?”

      “It’s your cousin, Gabe.”

      “Gabe. How are you? Rich said you were in the hunt for the Nationals.”

      “I’m doing okay. Listen, is Pete there? I need to speak with him.”

      Jake waved to his brother, sitting at the table, a cup of coffee in front of him. “Here’s Pete.”

      Pete took the phone. “Gabe? How are you? Are you coming our way?”

      “No, sorry. I’m heading for California. I just