Chapter One
Kerry Mackenzie wiped sweat from her forehead then kicked the front passenger-side tire.
A flat. Goddammit!
She batted away tears of frustration. This move had been difficult since she’d made the decision to accept the job in Albuquerque. Cody’s parents spent all of last night still trying to talk her out of her decision. Her former in-laws had even promised a new car to replace her clunker if she stayed in Tulsa. But she was determined. Tulsa held too many memories of her deceased husband, and no one seemed able to allow her to move on with her life.
A quick glance at her wristwatch confirmed only an hour or so of daylight. If she could get the few miles down the road to Amarillo, she could send a tow truck back for her car, and spend the night there. Although a modern woman perfectly capable of changing her own tire—thank you very much—the flat spare in her trunk was useless. Another oversight.
Her jaw tightened with determination. She would stick to her plan regardless of how many detours popped up. The time had arrived to start anew—new places, new friends, and her much coveted independence.
Kerry pulled out her overnight case and laptop, then slung the strap of her purse over her shoulder. After locking the car, she slid her cell phone from her pocket. Dead.
Wonderful.
Her groan mixed with the sound of a motor in the distance. She dropped her belongings at her feet, shaded her eyes from the setting sun, and peered into the expanse of highway. A red pickup grew from matchbox size to normal in less than a minute.
Should she wave him down, put her thumb out? Did people even do that anymore? Would she be taking a chance on being raped—or murdered?
Before her brain formed an answer to those questions, the truck swung around, pulled in behind her car, and braked. A slim cowboy in dusty jeans and boots jumped out and sauntered around the front of the truck.
“Got a problem, ma’am?”
His deep chocolate eyes twinkled with humor. Her stomach did a little dance, but she ignored it. Hot, good looking guys stopping for you on the highway could be dangerous. She had to remember that, and show confidence, forcefulness.
“Ah, yes actually. I have a flat tire.” She waved in the direction of the car. “And I’m afraid my spare is flat, too.”
He favored her with a slow, easy smile, and pushed the brim of his brown Stetson back with this thumb. “Not a smart way to travel.”
“I realize that. But there’s nothing I can do about it now.” She raised her chin and nodded at the highway. “Do you know how far it is to the nearest convenience store?” She gestured with her phone. “Dead.”
He took off his hat, ran his fingers through longish, wavy, dark blond hair, and resettled the Stetson on his head, tugging the brim over one eye. “I can give you a lift to the nearest place with a phone, but it’s not a convenience store.”
Kerry’s heart sped up. Was this where he helped her into his truck and helped himself to her body? She was no fool. Serial killers were often good looking and charming.
“There’s a honky tonk a few miles up the road.”
The cowboy’s voice was slow and easy. He rested his hands on his low slung belt, dragging her gaze from his face to the silver belt buckle, glistening with the last rays of the sun, right above… She snapped her head up in time to catch his grin.
He raised his eyebrows. “Well?”
When she hesitated, he stuck out a hand. “My name’s Damian Greer.” He opened the door of the truck with the other. “And I assure you, my mama raised me to be a gentleman. You have nothing to worry about.”
Don’t they always say that right before they reach for your neck?
Stiffening her shoulders, Kerry gathered her things, then brushed past him to enter the truck. “You’re right. I’m sure I won’t have anything to worry about.”
Damian settled himself behind the wheel, flicking her a glance. “Did you lock up your car?”
“Yes. It’s all taken care of.”
“One more thing,” he said as he shifted into gear.
“What’s that?” Kerry held her breath.
Is this when he tells me he’s on the way to rob a bank, and I’m going to drive the truck for his getaway? If I don’t cooperate, he’ll shoot me, and leave my sorry, dead ass for the buzzards?
“You know my name, but I don’t know yours.”
She exhaled. Why in heaven’s name was she so suspicious of everyone?
“Kerry. Kerry Mackenzie.”
“Nice to meet you, Kerry Mackenzie.” He checked his side-view mirror, and then glanced at her. “Fasten your seat belt.”
Damian pulled away from the crippled blue Chevy tilted to one side on the shoulder of the road. He settled back in the seat and snuck a quick look at Kerry’s hand clenched on her lap. No ring on the third finger, but a paleness where a ring would’ve been. Recently divorced?
For as often as he rode this highway, he’d never run across a woman like her. Humidity had done a number on her short, red hair, turning it into a curly mop. Her hazel eyes and cute button nose with a scattering of freckles fascinated him. No skinny model’s body on his passenger. Her snug denim shorts and plaid, button-down shirt hugged curves he’d love to get his arms around. A combination of siren and adorable kitten. Did she pull her claws out when angry? Or passionate?
Whoa, slow down, boy. It’s only a ride to the nearest phone.
He chuckled. The nearest phone sat in his jeans pocket. Something about his ingenuous passenger brought out the protective mode in him, and made him want to make sure she got to a safe
place. The wariness in her demeanor belied the bravado in her voice. Spending a little time with her was an added bonus. He glanced at the dashboard clock. Eight-twenty. She wouldn’t get a tow truck out here until morning, which opened up all sorts of interesting possibilities.
Damian reached over and flipped on the radio, catching the end of Reba’s latest release. Another hot redhead. He smiled. Must be fate after all.
“Where you headed?”
Kerry shifted in the seat to face him. “Albuquerque.”
“No kidding.” He raised his eyebrows. “I have some business there myself in a few days.”
“Really?”
She didn’t look like she believed him so he hurried on. “My family owns a ranch, and I have a trip scheduled to Albuquerque to meet with our feed supplier.” He moved his left elbow to rest on the open window, then switched the radio station to silence a very enthusiastic car commercial. “We’re having some problems with our cattle, and I want to go over their mixtures. I have a degree in Animal Science. What brings you to Albuquerque?”