Rachel's Rescuer

“You can’t be traipsin’ out in those flimsy shoes.” He looked down at her thin canvas shoes and noticed how small her feet were. “You’d end up with frostbite.”

Her chin went up and her eyes flashed with defiance. “A little snow and cold isn’t going to hurt me. Cody has a snowsuit out there, and boots and mittens.”

“Mittens?”

“He’s only six,” she snapped.

“Aren’t six-year-old boys usually in school?”

Cody answered the question. “I’m in school back home. Mom says this is a special vacation.”

“Vacation?” Lucas nailed her with a look, waiting for an answer.

“Let’s get their clothes, Lucas,” Harley said from the door.

Lucas held her fearful gaze with a promise in his own that they weren’t finished. Without a word, he joined Harley, grabbed his coat and hat, and pulled the door open.

“You’re pushin’ too hard,” Harley told him once they were outside.

“Maybe.” Wet snow hit him full in the face and the wind nearly sent his hat flying.

“I thought you didn’t want any part of it?” Harley reminded him.

They braced themselves against the wind, and Lucas saved his answer until they were inside the shed where he had parked her car. He waited while Harley took the keys from the ignition and returned to the back of the car. “That’s what I said. Maybe I was wrong.”

“Wrong?” Harley’s hand stilled on the key in the trunk lock, and a slow grin crept over his face. “You, Lucas? That’d be a first, wouldn’t it?”

“Just get it open,” Lucas growled.

With a flick of his wrist, Harley opened the trunk and stared inside. “All this for a vacation?”

Cardboard boxes sealed with tape were stuffed between a set of expensive luggage. Toys were crammed in every spare inch, along with more shoes than most people would wear in a month.

“Hell,” Lucas muttered.

“She’s runnin’.”

“Yep.”

Harley pulled two suitcases out and handed them to Lucas, then turned back for the other two. “Think we ought to mention it?”

“Nope.” Lucas considered the collection of belongings. “But I think we ought to keep an eye on her. Give me the keys.”

“Now, Lucas—”

He held out his hand. “Give me the keys, Harley. I don’t want her running off before we can find out what’s happening.”

Harley hesitated. “You’re going to help her?”

“I’m going to find out what’s going on and make sure she’s not on the wrong side of trouble. That’s all. I won’t say anything to Ben unless I think it’s important.”

Harley passed him the set of keys. “Then let me ask the questions. You’re about as subtle as a runaway freight train.”

Lucas picked up the two bags. “You always were better with women.”

Harley’s laughter echoed in the old building. “Me? Hell, Lucas, they always flocked to you like flies to an outhouse.”

Lucas ignored the jab and started out into the weather. “I’ll do the asking. I’ll find out what her name really is and have Ben check it out.”

“You don’t think it’s Rachel Stevens?”

“If it is, mine is Satan.”

“Did I say something wrong, Mom?” Cody asked when the two men were gone.

Rachel had some explaining to do about her little white lies. But this wasn’t the time. “No, it’s all right, honey. Why don’t you run upstairs and get your books out of the backpack? You can look at the pictures while I clean up. I’ll read it to you later.”

“Can I try to read it?”

Pride filled her heart. Cody had been able to read since kindergarten, far ahead of the other students in his class. “Sure you can.”

“Yippee!” he shouted as he ran out of the room.

With a sigh, she picked up the empty plates from the table and put them in the sink. The men would be back soon, and she’d have to answer some questions. She had hoped to put it off for a while longer. But just how little could she get away with telling Lucas? She owed him some kind of explanation. And now she was forced to tell the truth. To a point.

The last fork dropped in the drawer with a clatter when the door opened behind her. Bracing herself for more questions, she turned to see the snow-covered cowboys enter, carrying her four suitcases.

“We’ll put them up in the bedroom,” Harley told her as they passed through the room.

She breathed a sigh of relief when Lucas didn’t bother to look her way. She watched him walk out, the muscles in his back and shoulders bunching at the weight of the luggage in his hands. Her knees wobbled beneath her, and her heartbeat quickened. She still stared when he was no longer in sight.

Get a grip, Rache. She had seen men with well-toned bodies before. Well-toned? Okay, she relented. Hunky bodies. But none that kept her eyes glued to them and made her heart pound. There hadn’t been a man yet who could catch her attention and hold it for more than five minutes, especially after she’d found out how most of them were like Steven. And she had a feeling Lucas Callahan was more like Steven than all of them.

With a muttered reminder to keep her lusting thoughts under control, she started for the hallway and the stairs, only to find herself nose to chest with her cold host. Her heart leapt to her throat, and she silently cursed her reaction.

“I—I was just going to check on Cody,” she murmured, looking up. She instantly wished she hadn’t. Eyes like two pieces of burning coal gazed down into hers.

“He’s talkin’ to Harley.”

His voice slid over her like warm honey on a hot biscuit and left her speechless.

“Rachel Stevens, right?”

She could only nod.

One corner of his mouth lifted in a smile that resembled a smirk. “That’s what I thought,” he said and moved past her.

She grabbed the banister for support. Lordy, if the man had horns and a forked tail, he’d be the spitting image of Lucifer, fire in his eyes and all.