He didn’t reply, and I concentrated on the approaching turn. I had to make a left to get to Falls Ridge, the small town that was our end point. Soon, we could rest.
Emotion rolled through me, and I blinked hard to hold it together. Come on, we’re so close.
If only my cross-continent escape could go the way of the romance book I’d read on the plane, with some handsome man swooping in to offer me safety. I’d reread the first Twilight story, in honour of where Benjamin and I were headed. After two flights, we were now in Washington’s Olympic National Park, a vast wooded area surrounded on three sides by the sea, according to my map. To the north were place names I recognised from the vampire story—Forks, La Push beach, Port Angeles. Our destination was nearer the southern end.
At the stop sign, I halted, glancing into the main road.
Shit, wait.
We hadn’t stopped at all.
The car kept moving, skidding on invisible ice.
“Oh no,” I whispered to myself, panic rising. Back home at the airbase, when the roads were frozen, I’d shift up a gear, but what should I do in an automatic?
We drifted left, and I pumped the brake to stop. The car lurched, sliding over the centre line and into the wrong lane. Argh!
I floored the accelerator. The car shot forward. “Yes!” I cheered.
Too late, I spied the huge black truck hurtling the other way.
“Ah!” I slammed on the brakes again, sending us into a spin.
The wheels screeched. We rotated one-eighty, then hit something with a crunch and a tinkle of glass.
Fricking awesome.
Outside my window, a rock wall had embedded itself into my headlights. As crashes went, it could’ve been worse but, with trembling hands, I hauled on the handbrake to secure the car and twisted around to check Benjamin. He slept on, unaware. We’d barely jerked—the car had taken all the damage.
A glance in my mirror showed the other vehicle a few metres behind. It appeared intact and wasn’t close enough to have hit.
“Thank God for that,” I breathed and popped my door.
Raising a hand, I quick-stepped over to the other car. The driver jumped down from his cab, his boots making two big thuds on the ground.
I blinked, taking him in. The bearded, black-haired man must have been six-six. Maybe bigger.
Total Autumn catnip.
“You’d make one massive vampire,” I told him, then shook my head and tried again, rationally, this time. “I hit ice.”
The man didn’t speak, or laugh, but instead ran his gaze over me. I folded my arms over my chest, wishing I’d grabbed my jacket. I’d had the heat up full blast so Benjamin could sleep in comfort so only wore a thin sweater, the sweetheart neckline showing more cleavage than I typically would in the middle of nowhere.
“I’m not hurt. Are you? Did you have to brake hard?” I asked.
He nodded as if to himself then, still not answering, passed me and moved to the front of my car.
I padded after him, the cold seeping through my fine leather boots. “Uh, hello? I just want to know if you’re okay.”
Behind us, a large truck rumbled along the road and came to a halt, Hank’s Auto Repairs emblazoned on the side. I blinked at the coincidence then waved to the driver. Thank the heavens.
A portly, older man in green overalls clambered out and joined us. “What’s happened, Bull? Running ladies off the road?” He smiled at me but addressed the big man.
The man, Bull, I guessed, furrowed his brow, sending two dark slashes of eyebrows crashing together, and gave a little shake of his head.
“Look at that.” The second man eyed the damage and tipped his chin at me. “You’ve bent your wheel arch, miss. You can’t drive this now.”
I stared between the two people who must be acquaintances. My car couldn’t be broken. It couldn’t. I was so tired, my legs shook.
“No. It can’t be. I’m almost there,” I squeaked. My eyes heated, tears threatening. Tears? When did I ever cry at anything? In everything that had happened over the past month, I hadn’t shed a tear. Now, one leaked and ran down my cheek.
“Oh lord. Listen, I’m Hank and I have a mechanic shop a few miles east. Where are you headed?”
“Falls Ridge.” I peeked back at his truck. Sure enough, a large winch swung on a metal arm.
Hank squinted at me. “The Mathers’ place?”
My mouth dropped open. “How did you know that?”
He waved a hand. “Small-town life. There’s no secrets here.”
I inched closer, my pulse quickening. “No. Really, how did you know?” Because no one could know where we were.
His smile dropped, and he palmed the back of his neck. “My wife babysits for Lena Mathers. She mentioned last night that a friend of hers was coming to town. I just put two and two together, with you both being British. Nothing more. Didn’t mean to alarm you.”
I’d called Lena, my sister’s closest friend, only yesterday morning. News travelled fast. Okay, this is okay. I took a breath, trying to dial back the crazy. “Right. Sorry. Yep, that’s me. Lena’s friend.”
Hank’s happy smile returned now we were back on track. “I’ll get you there. Bull can vouch for me. It’s that or you call roadside assistance, and they’ll probably send me anyway.”
I switched my attention to the big silent man. He raised his chin as if confirming Hank’s statements.
Why should I trust him? He still hadn’t said a single word.
“Thank you,” I said to Hank. “I’d really appreciate that. I’ll talk to the rental place about the accident, but if you can get me to Lena’s place, I’d be so grateful.”
“I know the drill. Give me a sec and we’ll get going.” Hank slapped my bonnet then hummed a show tune, strolling back to his vehicle. He pulled ahead, reversed into position, and began securing the winch.
“So, Bull, is it?” I said to the man who stood, watching me. It bugged me, his lack of questions, or any conversation for that matter. He’d been speeding, which was foolish on such a dangerous stretch. He, a local, who knew the state of the road. That was irresponsible, wasn’t it? He could’ve injured us.
My sleep-deprived gaze became a glare. “Am I going to get a whiplash claim or are you okay?”
His mouth quirked up at one corner. “No claim.”
He found me amusing? “You know, you were going really fast. We could’ve been hurt.”
At my back, the winch cranked, a chain rattling.
“We?” Bull’s attention shot to my car, and he put two fingers to his lips and whistled once, shrill and loud.
Hank stopped short. “Problem?”
Bull strode to the hire car and tugged the door open. His eyes widened.
A little gurgle of happiness came from inside.
Shit!
“Benjamin!” I leapt, pushing past Bull. My nephew beamed as I collected him from his car seat, and I cringed, clutching him to me, bringing his baby blanket with him. I’d left him in there. Where on earth was my brain?
“Uh, miss? Your boy will have to come with you in the cab. He can’t stay in the car when I’m towing it.” Hank popped a disapproving hand to his hip.
“I know, I know. I wasn’t thinking.” For a second, I closed my eyes, because this was beyond embarrassing.