LITMIR.BIZ

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hit. He might have known the great weather couldn’t last. Thank heaven he and Pali had brought down the last third of their thousand head of sheep to the seven-thousand-foot area of scrubland. The Fieldings owned some of it and leased additional acres.

      Wyatt would keep the sheep at this elevation until mid-November, then take them down to the irrigated fields where the ranch’s crops were grown.

      Only three ewes had been lost. His grandfather would be ecstatic to hear about that. Tomorrow they’d have to examine each animal and take care of those needing immediate attention.

      While Wyatt was straightening up his camp for the impending storm, Gip started barking. A minute later, Wyatt saw Jose’s white truck coming up over the ridge. He honked the horn. The noise brought Pali out of his trailer.

      Wyatt’s heart failed him. Something must have happened to his grandfather, otherwise Jose wouldn’t be here. Unable to bear the thought, he headed toward the truck. But as he got closer, he saw that Jose wasn’t alone. He’d brought a blonde woman with him, maybe midtwenties. What in the hell?

      When the truck stopped, she jumped down from the cab in jeans and a T-shirt. The cold wind that was growing stronger by the second molded the fabric to her beautiful body. She was also wearing his grandmother’s cowboy boots and carrying her parka, of all things.

      His gaze traveled upward to her oval face with green eyes as lush as the patches of grass growing in the mountain passes. Her hair was cut in a cute, short style that the wind kept rearranging.

      Gip ran over to Jose who got out of the truck and lowered a suitcase to the ground.

      “I’ve brought you a visitor. This is Alex Dorney from back East. She came to the ranch to talk to the boss, but he sent her up here to see you. Since this storm is going to hit soon, I need to get back down the mountain. My kids are home for a few days. I’ll be back tomorrow to get her.” With those words of explanation, he got into the truck.

      “Wait a minute!”

      But Jose was too quick for him. Within seconds he’d started the engine and taken off.

      Wyatt turned to the woman, who cocked her head. “I’m sorry, Mr. Fielding. Your grandfather said there was no service up here to alert you I was coming.”

      The old man must he losing his mind!

      Judging by her accent, this woman was a New Yorker. “He was right. We need to get you out of this wind before the downpour starts.” Noticing that Pali had gone to his camper with Gip, Wyatt grabbed her two cases and headed for his three-man tent.

      She followed him inside. The roar of the wind tugging on the canvas told him this was no small mountain squall that would pass over in an hour. He knew in his gut they were in for the kind of violent early-fall storm he hadn’t seen for at least ten years.

      * * *

      THANK HEAVEN HE’D had the tent custom made with two entrances. The one could be used for emergencies, in case he was forced to cook on his old Coleman stove and needed the ventilation. He hadn’t used it this trip because he and Pali cooked in the trailer.

      As for the heater, it had a hose connected to a hole in the tent that allowed ventilation to the outside. Because of the warm weather, Wyatt hadn’t bothered to set it up. Who would have thought he’d need any of the equipment this trip?

      He lit a lantern and turned to her. “While you change into the warmest clothes you’ve brought, I have things to do, but I’ll be back. Make yourself comfortable.”

      Wyatt reached for his parka and stepped out of the tent, zipping it up before he raced to his truck. He undid the tarp to unload the gear he hadn’t anticipated needing because he would have stayed with Pali. Already he could feel rain droplets. The deluge was about to start.

      After making several trips to the tent, he’d grabbed everything necessary and retied the tarp. Just as he stepped inside, the heavens opened. When he glanced at his breathtaking visitor, she was sitting on his camp stool wearing his grandmother’s parka and Justin cowboy boots.

      She looked up at him. “Your grandfather sent these clothes with me since I didn’t bring a coat. I didn’t think I’d need one with such beautiful weather everywhere.”

      “The sudden change surprised me, too. That parka will keep you warm.”

      “I’m sorry for just showing up like this. What can I do to make the situation better?”

      He stifled a frustrated laugh and reached for the extra sleeping bag. After unrolling it, he pulled out the pillow tucked inside. Once he’d grabbed a blanket, he threw it and the pillow on the end of the bag.

      “If you want to put your suitcase over here next to your sleeping bag, I’ll turn on the heater and warm up our dinner. Then we’ll talk.”

      The fierce wind and rain didn’t let up. Wyatt had set up a temporary kitchen near the back opening with his food supplies and heated the coffee on his stove. “Sugar?”

      “Yes, please.”

      He dropped in two cubes and handed her a mug. The steam mixed with the flowery fragrance she’d brought inside the tent. She had moved the stool over to the end of the sleeping bag and brushed her hair. It gleamed a shimmering silvery blonde in the light of the lantern hanging from the ceiling of the tent. The wind gusts had grown worse, causing the lantern to swing.

      To his dismay, his attention wandered to the pale yellow crewneck cotton sweater she’d put on beneath the parka. His gaze fell lower to her legs. The cowboy boots managed to accentuate the elegant length of her figure. He estimated she was five foot seven or so.

      Still surprised to find himself in a small tent with a beautiful woman in the middle of a terrible storm, he got busy opening containers of biscuits and beef stew. When the meal was ready, he handed her a bowl of food and a spoon. She thanked him, and he sat down cross-legged on his sleeping bag while they ate.

      “Do you think this storm is going to last long?”

      Wyatt figured she must be terrified out of her wits, but she handled it with amazing calm. “I’m afraid it’s going to go on all night.”

      “You’re kidding! But it’s only September!”

      He got up to serve himself a second helping. “Ten years ago an early-fall storm swept through the Wind River Range unexpectedly. This feels just like it. I’m surprised my granddad sent you up here.” However unexpected the impending storm, a seasoned man like his grandfather must’ve known it was coming. Was the old man losing his touch?

      “Your grandfather was anxious I get the chance to speak to you before I go home on Saturday. I’m certain he didn’t know.”

      Wyatt hated to tell her this, but no one was going home on Saturday, or anytime soon. “Jose has worked for my grandfather for years in all kinds of weather. He must not have sensed how bad the coming storm is, or he would have refused to bring you.”

      “I’m sure the last thing he wanted to do was drive me up here.”

      Wyatt glanced at her. “He was just doing what my grandfather pays him to do. Would you like more stew or biscuits?”

      “No, thank you. The food was delicious.”

      He had to admit her polite manner warmed him. Wyatt glanced at his watch. Eight thirty. Before she went to bed she would need to go outside to the compost privy he’d set up in the one-man tent. But it was a little early for that. Wyatt got to his feet and put her bowl over by the makeshift kitchen area he’d set up with a little camp table. His custom-made tent had been enlarged on purpose to handle more gear.

      “I have to talk to Pali, but I’ll be right back.”

      After rummaging in his duffel bag for his hooded windbreaker, he put it on over his parka and let himself out of the tent, into the raging storm.

      Wyatt ran against the powerful wind and stinging rain to Pali’s trailer.

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