“No, you’re definitely not that, Jilly.”
“Damn, it’s really coming down,” she murmurs in awe. She’s right—the snow is falling faster than crews can clear it from the streets. As we drive on the highway heading out of town toward the ranch, the snow is coming down so hard and thick, my headlights bounce off the white flakes, almost blinding us.
“Oh no! Someone’s in the ditch!” Jill points to a small SUV with its hazard lights blinking, the front end in the ditch and the back tires spinning worthlessly in the snow. I slowly pull over to the shoulder, put the truck in park, and take Jill’s hand in mine, demanding her attention.
“Stay in this truck, Jill. I’m gonna pull them out.”
“I can help.”
“If I need you, I’ll let you know, but for now just stay here.”
I don’t need to worry about her out in this mess. She nods and I hop out of the truck and make my way down the brush- and snow-covered ditch to the driver’s side of the SUV. A woman is inside, frantically talking on her phone. A baby is crying in the backseat.
I knock on the window, startling her.
“I’m Zack King,” I yell through the glass. “I have a truck and chains. Just stay here, put it in neutral, and I’m going to pull you out!”
She sighs in relief and smiles as she cracks her window.
“Thank you so much!”
Pulling my gloves out of my coat pocket, I nod and climb up to the truck, then yank my tow chains out of the bed. Once I have the chains attached to both my truck and her SUV, I climb into the cab.
“What’s happening?” Jill asks.
“I’m pulling her out,” I reply, looking both ways on the highway for oncoming headlights. There are none.
As quickly as I can, I pull out onto the road, put the truck into the lowest gear possible, and pull the small SUV out of the ditch and onto the road. As soon as I see she’s out, I throw the truck in park and get out to unhook the chains and wave at the woman as she drives slowly and carefully away.
After throwing the chains back in the bed of the truck, we’re on our way to the ranch.
“You’re soaked,” Jill murmurs.
“I’ll dry.”
She turns up the heat and takes my right hand in hers, pulling my glove off and warming my fingers. “You’re freezing.”
I glance over in surprise as she continues to warm my hand, confused as all hell at the riot of emotions racing through me. One minute she’s stubborn and impossible and the next she’s soft and sweet.
“I’d do the other one, but it’s kind of busy right now,” she says with a grin.
“Yeah, not a good idea to drive with no hands,” I agree and chuckle. She keeps my hand in hers, resting in her lap, until finally, I gently pull it away. “Thanks. That’s better. That could have been you, you know.”
“I know.” She sighs deeply. “I need to replace my car. I drive a lot for my job, so I probably need an SUV with all-wheel drive.”
“Sooner, rather than later.”
She just nods and continues to watch the snow in the headlights. “So, are you still living with your mom and dad?”
I glance over at her, expecting to see a teasing smile on her lips, but she’s just watching me with wide, quiet eyes.
“Well, you know how it is. I could do my own laundry, but Mom makes it so extra soft and it smells good.”
“Don’t be an ass.” She laughs and smacks my biceps.
“Actually, Mom and Dad moved into the new cabin last week.”
“Oh! It’s done already?” she asks.
I nod. Mom and Dad decided this past summer that with me home and running the ranch with Josh, it was time for them to retire. But they would never leave the ranch, so Josh and I had a small single-story home built for them on the property.
“Does your mom like her new place?” Jill asks.
“Yeah. No more stairs to climb every day, less house to clean, and Dad made sure her kitchen is badass, so she’s been baking and cooking like crazy.”
“Good for them.” Jill grins. “Your parents have worked hard all their lives. I’m glad they’re going to take it easy.”
“Well, we’ll see how long it lasts. Dad loves ranching too much to retire completely.”
“How is Seth?” she asks as I pull into our driveway.
“He’s doing so much better,” I reply. “His grades are awesome, and he’s got friends. I wish I’d moved him here years ago.”
The guilt sets in as I think of what my son went through before coming home to Montana.
Jill lays her hand on my arm and squeezes gently. “I’m glad he’s doing so much better. He’s a great kid.”
I grin and nod. “Thanks.”
Pulling up to Josh and Cara’s place, I park and turn to face Jill, who is frowning and biting her lip again. She looks almost . . . disappointed.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
She shakes her head and offers me a smile. “Nothing. Thank you for rescuing me.”
“You don’t need to be rescued, Jill,” I reply and return her smile. “I’m just glad you know how to ask for help when you need it.”
I step out of my truck and retrieve her bags from the backseat, then trudge through the snow to Josh’s front door, which is now open as Cara has rushed out to hug Jill. Thor runs out of the house, lifts his leg on a snowbank, and then dashes right back in.