The quiet purr of the approaching engine suggested a large sedan rather than a paramilitary vehicle, but all she could see was the blaze of white headlights. Heart pounding, she turned on their hazard lights and started to wave her arms. All they needed was a ride into Nabattur. Or maybe just someone with a flashlight and a little mechanical expertise. Despite a flicker of apprehension, she gritted her teeth and crossed her fingers as the approaching car slowed to a stop on the loose surface of the dirt road.
The blinding headlights hid their potential savior-or kidnapper-from view as the car door opened. She squinted as a large, unmistakably male silhouette materialized dressed in the long robe favored by the locals. A gruff voice addressed them in Arabic, with an expression she didn't recognize.
She attempted, in halting Arabic, to explain that they'd broken down. She could hear Allan's labored breathing behind her. The man swept around their Land Rover and looked-in the dark-at the silent engine.
"You'd better come with me."
It took her a moment to register that he'd spoken in English. His low voice sounded kinder in the less guttural tongue. She wished she could see his face.
"Could you take us to Nabattur?" She cursed her voice for shaking.
"You can stay overnight in my home. It's just a few miles up the road. In the morning, we'll find a mechanic to retrieve your vehicle."
"Oh." She turned to Allan. This was the kind of warm desert hospitality she'd been told to expect. Was it too good to be true? "What do you think, sweetie?"
She heard him swallow. "I think we should stay with the car."
Frustration filled Sam's chest. This man was trying to help them and now Allan wanted to insult him by refusing his offer of hospitality. She turned to the stranger. "I don't want to be a bother, but are you able to call a tow service for us? We can't seem to get any cell service here."
His throaty laugh rang out in the empty desert. "A tow truck? At night? Do you think you're in New York City?" He gestured to his car. "Grab your bags and jump in. I wouldn't leave anything behind. There are some unsavory characters on this road at night." His voice dropped for the last sentence and made her wonder if he included himself in that group.
They had two choices. They could stay here and face whoever else might wander along the road that night. Or they could go with someone whose intentions and motivations were unclear, but who at least spoke English. Right now the latter seemed like an easy choice.