He yanked on a slicker. “What’s she driving?”
Brennan looked at him. “Blue sedan.”
Hell. She needed four-wheel drive and some kind of suspension to take on a flooded roadway. The sedan wouldn’t cut it.
“Tell her to stay put and to stay in the car,” he ordered, slinging the bag over his shoulder. Daeg could estimate the current; she wouldn’t get the door open now, but even if she went out the window, she ran the risk of being knocked off her feet. She didn’t have the body weight or the experience to hold her ground against storm water.
“The water’s rising, Cal.”
Brennan waved Daeg toward the door. “Don’t get out of the car, Dani. I mean it. You got power locks?” When she answered negatively, he continued. “Good. Roll a window down now. Pick the side away from the wind if you can. If that water gets too high, starts coming inside, you climb out the window and you get on the roof. You’re going to be okay, though. I have someone coming for you right now and I’ll remain on the line with you until he’s there.”
Snagging the keys to his Jeep, Daeg hit the porch fast, boots pounding as he took the wet planks at a careful run. Hydroplaning wouldn’t help Dani, and his Harley didn’t have the clearance or the engine power to make it up those roads. The Jeep was a workhorse and would get him where he needed to go.
Straight to Dani.
* * *
THE WIND HIT her small economy car like a freight train. With each powerful buffet, Dani felt the car shift, moving her away from Sweet Moon’s cabins. And sliding her farther down the road toward a sheer drop into open water. Oh, no.
At Cal’s suggestion she’d cranked down a back window in case she needed a quick exit. Now she was soaked as rain blew through and over the car. According to the red numbers blinking on the car’s dash, forty minutes had passed since she’d phoned. The floodwaters were already lapping the bottom of her side mirror. A few minutes more and she’d have to climb out and up, like she’d promised Cal. He’d had to go, so he hung up a short while ago after promising that help was almost there.
She tugged on the collar of her raincoat, doing whatever she could to protect herself from the downpour.
Real soon, getting wet was going to be the least of her problems.
The wind gusted violently and something floated by the car. Too close. Broken lawn furniture? Whoever was coming to help her needed to hurry up.
She eyed the cell phone, but the battery was almost dead. She was fairly certain the signal’s strength had dropped. Whatever charge remained, she needed to save, because things weren’t getting any better here. She’d hung up on Tag when she’d hit the last bar of juice.
When a vehicle hurtled out of the growing darkness toward her, she bit back a scream. A Jeep. Muddy and battered, and the canvas top looking distinctly the worse for wear. The driver braked just in time to avoid her as the floodwater sprayed up, breaking over the windshield.
She flicked her flashlight on. The Jeep pulled slowly through the wheel-well–high water and stopped on the far side of the road, where the water line was lower. It looked like luck was finally on her side. Still, even there, the water was already licking at the Jeep’s hood. Any deeper and the engine might get flooded. The driver effortlessly hoisted himself out through the vehicle’s window. She’d never been so glad to see anyone.
One strong, confident step at a time and he pushed himself through the waist-high water. She screamed as the current grabbed at him, pulling forcefully. For a moment, she thought he’d lose his footing, but then he moved forward again. As he drew closer he yelled something, but the wind ate up his words. Instead, he gestured for her to lean from the car window.
Since he was nearly to her, she could make out the identity of the man beneath the hood of the rain slicker. Daeg Ross. His familiar face was focused, fierce.
“Daeg,” she whispered.
“Cal sent me,” he said and she nodded dumbly as if he was out here paying a social call. Relief snaked through her.
His muscular arms closed carefully around her and pulled her gently from the car. He set her on the hood, stepping in between her legs. “Way I see it,” he said, “you’ve got a choice.” He was so deliciously warm where she was cold and wet.
“I need to get you out of here.” He gestured toward the sedan and the growing level of water. “Your car’s not an option. My Jeep’s not getting back down the road, either.”
“The shelter is in town,” she pointed out, fighting back fear. She didn’t want to be out here, alone, nor did she want the alternative.... Town—and people—sounded right to her.