Somehow she had to get them out of this. After all, she’d lived in rural western Montana all her life. She came from sturdy, frontier stock. Her great-grandparents mined this land, finally turning to ranching. They never gave up, nor would she.
She gripped the wheel and went back to work. Yet, no matter what direction she turned the wheel, or how gently she worked the gas peddle, she couldn’t get the old truck to move forward. She finally stopped to save fuel. They might need heat if they had to spend the night here. No, she refused to think about that. They had hours of daylight left.
“Boy, Aunt Kelley is going to be mad.”
“No, Aunt Kelley won’t be mad.” Another lie just rolled off her tongue. “But maybe we shouldn’t tell her. She has a lot to worry about with taking Grandma Ruby to the hospital.”
Jesse nodded. “Okay. Maybe if we wish really hard someone will come by and save us.”
Amelia wasn’t so sure that was going to work, either. There wasn’t much reason for anyone to be on this road. Everyone else was at home heeding the storm warning. She’d only gone out to buy supplies before they’d gotten snowbound.
Normally the Hughes household was prepared for bad weather, but the December storm caught them off guard. With Gram’s illness, everyone had been distracted getting her into Helena and the hospital.
Jesse turned to her again. “Maybe we should call Aunt Kelley. She’ll know what to do.”
Amelia didn’t doubt it. Her older sister pretty much ran the cattle operation, while Amelia handled the household. It wasn’t that she didn’t love taking care of the family, but she’d also like her sister to listen to some of her ideas for the ranch. Kelley hadn’t even trusted her to handle things while she was in Helena, and made arrangements to hire a ranch hand to help out.
The last thing Amelia wanted was for her sister to know she’d already messed up things in her absence. But what was more important, she needed to get herself and her son out of this weather.
She pulled out her cell phone. “I’ve got a better idea. I’ll call the sheriff.”
Boone Gifford was a Texas boy, born and bred.
He had never been crazy about cold weather or snow. Now he was in the middle of a blizzard outside of Rebel Ridge, Montana. He’d only come here because he’d given his word. And Boone never went back on his word. So the sooner he got to the Rocking H, the sooner he could leave for a warmer climate.
He swiped his gloved hand over the windshield to clear away the condensation. It didn’t help. Visibility was nil. Even reducing his speed to a crawl hadn’t helped much. He wasn’t even sure where he was.
Absently he rubbed his sore shoulder, reminding him of his last job on the off-shore oil rig and the accident that nearly took his life. He’d survived, but he would never forget the men who’d died that day. Especially one.
He shook away the memory to concentrate on his task. Not an easy one, either. The wind gusted again, continuing to make it difficult to keep his vehicle on the road. His grip tightened around the steering wheel. If he had a brain, he’d never have attempted to get to the Hughes ranch today.
No, he needed to finish this, once and for all. He needed to see Amelia Hughes, then he could move on with a clear conscience.
Boone kept his gaze sharp as his new four-wheel-drive truck crept along the dangerous terrain. Lucky for him, his tires could handle mud and snow. Suddenly he saw flashing emergency lights up ahead. As he got closer, he realized it was a truck parked at a funny angle along the shoulder.
So he wasn’t the only crazy person out here. He stopped in the middle of the road, then, pulling the collar up on his coat, he climbed out. Fighting the sharp wind, he made his way to the embankment and the truck cab.
“Hey, is there anyone in there?” he called, and banged on the window.
He blinked the snow from his eyes as the window came down and a woman’s face appeared. “Oh, thank God you came by. My son and I went off the road and we’re stuck. If you could just help us to our ranch? It’s just up the road a few miles.”
“The Rocking H?” Boone asked.
“Yes.” The pretty woman smiled, lighting up her rich green eyes. “Oh, you must be the hand from the Sky High Ranch. I’m Amelia Hughes.”
So he’d found her. As Russ had described, she was a pretty brunette. Not wanting to stand here and give her an explanation, he gave her a quick nod. “Boone Gifford. Look, we need to get out of this, and my truck seems to be our best bet.” He pulled open the door and helped the woman out of the truck, then behind her he saw the small boy.
“My son, Jesse,” Amelia called, fighting the wind.
The boy slid across the seat. His eyes were wide along with his smile. A sudden tightness gripped Boone’s chest.
“Hey, kid.”
“Hi.” The boy cocked his head to the side and grinned. “Are you my Christmas wish?”
The normal ten-minute trip had taken nearly thirty by the time Boone pulled the truck up to the back door. Amelia finally released a breath. She climbed out of the truck and carrying two grocery bags, trudged her way to the porch. Boone Gifford swung Jesse up into his arms and followed her.
“We made it,” Amelia cried as she stepped into the big kitchen. She set down her groceries on the long table. She wanted to drop to the floor and kiss it. She didn’t want to think about what could have happened if they had been left out there.
“Yeah, we made it,” Jesse mimicked as he came into the room.
Boone put her son down, but Jesse wasn’t leaving his side. Amelia noticed the child’s budding hero worship.
She pulled off her hat and shook out her long hair. “How about some coffee, Mr. Gifford?”
“Please, call me Boone.” He took off his cowboy hat and unwrapped the scarf from his neck. “Yes, please, I wouldn’t mind a cup to warm up.”
“Can I have some hot chocolate, Mom?”
Amelia took her son’s coat and hung it on a hook beside the mud room door. “Yes, you can, but I want you to go change out of your jeans into some warm sweats.”
He tugged off his cap, revealing his curly dark hair. “Ah, Mom. I want to talk to Boone some more.”
That was the problem. She had to nix this before her son drove the ranch hand crazy. “You can when you get back, but right now there’s a storm coming and we need to take care of the livestock, too.”
“’Kay,” he murmured and walked out of the room.
“I apologize for all my son’s questions on the way home.”
“Not a problem. He seems like a good kid.”
“I think so, but I’m a little biased.” She smiled and he smiled back before he turned away to the window.
Boone Gifford wasn’t what you’d call classically handsome, but you took notice of the man. His ebony eyes were deep set, his jaw was chiseled with a shadow of a beard. His thick hair was coal black with a slight wave and long enough to brush the back of his collar. He was tall, well-over six feet, with shoulders so broad it made the room seem crowded.
Boone turned back toward her, catching her looking at him.
“Looks like this storm is going to be a rough one,” he said, his gaze holding hers. “I should get out to the barn while I have a chance.”
She cleared her throat, but couldn’t remember what she wanted to say. She nodded, then went to the counter and began making coffee. “Good idea.”
“Okay, you have anything special you need done?”
“My sister,