Everyone nodded their agreement and the rest of the evening was filled with talk about renovating Nate’s ranch house, causing T.J. to breathe a sigh of relief. If they were talking about something else, they weren’t teasing him about his neighbor. And that was just fine with him. The less he was reminded of the woman, the better.
Several hours later, after finalizing plans for when everyone would arrive for the New Year’s Eve party, T.J. left Sam and Bria’s for the hour’s drive back to his ranch. It had been raining all day, and by the time he reached the turn-off leading up to the Dusty Diamond’s ranch house, it had become an outright downpour.
He started to turn his truck onto the lane, but then stopped when he noticed a faint glow of red about a hundred yards up ahead. The best he could tell, it was the taillights of a car and he knew without a shadow of doubt that the creek had flooded out again, blocking the road. It only happened three or four times a year, but whenever there was a significant amount of rain, the slow-moving stream that bordered his ranch to the east turned into a raging river. With as much water as had fallen over the course of the day, the creek was probably a good twenty feet or so out of its banks on either side of the ravine.
Unable to ignore the fact that whoever was in the vehicle might need help, T.J. drove on until he reached the compact gray sedan sitting in the middle of the road. He could tell someone was still inside, and from what he could see of the slim form, that someone was female. Cursing the nasty weather, T.J. got out of his truck and jogged up to the driver’s side door.
“Is there anything I can do to help, ma’am?” T.J. asked as the woman inside lowered the window. She stopped halfway, and he wasn’t certain if it was to keep out the rain, or because he was the one offering her assistance. But he almost groaned aloud when he realized the driver was his archenemy, that Wilson woman from the neighboring ranch.
He hadn’t seen her since the last time her horse jumped the fence, back in the spring, when he’d had to take the stallion back over to the Circle W. It had been about the tenth time the horse had trespassed on Dusty Diamond land, and T.J.’s patience with the situation had come to a swift end. That’s when he’d had his brothers help him put up the six-foot fence between the two properties. The fence had eliminated the problem of her horse romancing T.J.’s mares and he had thought he wouldn’t have to deal with her again. Apparently, he’d been wrong.
“I was afraid of this,” she said, not looking any happier to see him than he was to see her.
T.J. wasn’t sure if she meant she had been afraid of not being able to get across the creek or she’d been afraid that he would be her only source of help. Either way, she wasn’t in the position of being choosy, and he wouldn’t walk away and leave her to solve the problem on her own. His foster father would probably come back from the dead to haunt him if Hank knew one of the boys he had raised had left a lady in distress to fend for herself.
“Even if it stops raining now, you won’t be able to get back to your ranch until morning,” T.J. pointed out. As he stood in the downpour, chilling water dripped off the back of his wide brimmed hat and ran down his neck. It was damned uncomfortable and he wasn’t inclined to mince words. “You’ll have to follow me to the Dusty Diamond. You can stay there tonight.”
She stubbornly shook her head. “We may be neighbors, but I don’t really know you and from our past run-ins, I’m not interested in getting acquainted.”
“Believe me, lady, I’m not, either,” T.J. stated flatly. “But there’s no way you’ll make it across forty feet of rushing water without stalling out or being swept down into the ravine. Then I’d be obligated to jump in and try to fish you out before you drowned. I’d really like to avoid that if possible.” He took a deep breath and tried to hold on to his temper. “Do you have anywhere else you can go?”
As she stared at him, she caught her lower lip between her teeth as if she was trying to think of somewhere—anywhere—she could spend the night other than at his place. She finally shook her head. “No.”
“Well, I’m not going to let you stay here in your car all night,” he said impatiently.
“You’re not going to let me stay in my car?”
From the tone of her voice, he could tell he had ruffled more than a couple of feathers.
“Look, I’m just trying to keep you from having to spend a damp, uncomfortable night in your car,” he stated. “But it’s your choice. If you want to sit out here instead of sleeping in a warm, dry bed, that’s your choice.”