LITMIR.BIZ

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and he hadn’t even shown up for her mother’s funeral a few years back. Now, of all things, Uncle Willard had recently died, leaving his niece money and property located in the high mountains of Colorado. At first, the unexpected wind-fall had sounded great, but the terms of her uncle’s will were as eccentric as the man himself had been. In order to inherit the money, Stacy was required to use a stipulated portion of it to improve the mountain property and reside there while the renovations were being done.

      At any other time in her life, Stacy would have rebelled against the loss of independence imposed by her uncle’s will, but her life was in the pits, financially and romantically. So here she was, driving a torturous mountain road at night, trying to keep from plunging off a thousand-foot cliff.

      As the wind quickened, a flash of jagged lightning cut through the darkness, and then the storm hit. A whirling cauldron of slashing rain enveloped the car. Driving forward at a snail’s pace, she fought the mesmerizing effect of raindrops swirling into the feeble radius of her headlights. The only blessing was that the road had leveled off in some kind of a high mountain valley, but the ground bordering it was still steep and sloping.

      As she peered ahead, a sliver of lightning struck the landscape, and for an instant she glimpsed a gravel road leading off of the narrow highway. Her heart leaped with relief. A safe place to park! Even if she had to spend the night in the car, it would be better than the suicide attempt of driving in this storm.

      Cautiously she peered ahead as she turned off the pavement. A second too late, she realized. Blinded by the deluge, she’d turned too soon. She’d missed the road!

      With a jolt, the car dipped downward, throwing her forward. Her brakes were useless as the vehicle began to slide. Frantically she reached for the door handle just as the car lurched to an abrupt stop.

      She sat there stunned. It had all happened so fast she couldn’t get her bearings. Rivulets of water obscured the windows. The engine was still running, but the car’s headlights no longer stabbed the darkness. She had no idea what had stopped the car’s downward movement. A horrible wailing of wind mocked her rising panic.

      What should she do? Stay in the car? If it was wedged in tightly against a tree or something, she could just wait out the storm, and then flag someone down when it was over.

      But what if it began to slide again? The thought of deep mountain chasms, thousands of feet below the road, sent chills rippling up her spine. She forced herself to quit imagining the worst scenario. There was only one way to know if the car’s position was precarious or not.

      Get out and look.

      She realized that stepping out into the storm’s fury could invite all kinds of disaster. Rain poured down the windows like a solid sheet, and building wind gusts assaulted the car. Only a greater fear of being trapped in the car plunging down the mountainside forced her to make sure that remaining in the car was safe.

      She took a deep breath and picked up her cell phone, as if even in these circumstances it was some assurance of contact with the outside world. Then she forced open the car door and stepped out into a rushing torrent of mud and water. Dressed only in yellow summer slacks, a white pullover and sandals, she was instantly drenched. Assaulted by wind, rain, and flying debris, she struggled to keep her footing in the slippery, rain-drenched, uneven ground.

      Deafening thunder vibrated like clashing cymbals in her ears, and she had only taken a few steps when she slipped and went down on her knees. As she tried to catch herself, she dropped the cell phone. She lunged for it, but not in time to keep a swiftly moving current of mud and water from sweeping it away.

      She wavered to her feet, desperately trying to clear her vision enough to see what was holding the car in place. She caught a glimpse of dark forms that defied recognition in the deluge. Rocks? Trees? Bushes? She thought she heard the roar of plunging water.

      Everything around her was diabolically alive. Needled tree branches lashed the air like writhing dark specters. Glimpses of jagged rocks rose in threatening shadows around her. Vicious winds like crazed hands tore at her long dark hair.

      She screamed when a night creature appeared at her side and loomed over her. Frantically she lashed out, trying to evade its clutches, but her struggle only tightened the ironlike grip that encircled her. As her biting nails connected with soft flesh, the terrifying illusion faded, and she realized that the flow of cuss words assaulting her ears was coming from a very angry, warm-blooded human.

      “Damn little wildcat.” His grip tightened on her. “Your blasted car is just a few feet from slipping into the river. I’m here to help.”

      She went limp with relief. His face was hidden in the shadows of a wide-brimmed hat and the high collar of his raincoat, but she gave in to the reassurance of his deep voice with a thankful prayer.

      “Is anyone else in the car?” he demanded curtly, keeping an iron grip on her.

      “No,” she choked.

      “Then let’s get the hell out of here.” Lifting her in his arms and holding her tightly against his chest, Josh Spencer carried her away from the sinking car and rising river.

      All evening, the radio had been reporting emergencies up and down the front range, but he never expected to have one on his doorstep. After supper, he’d saddled his horse and gone out into the storm because he was concerned about the wooden bridge leading onto his property. The old bridge had recently been reinforced, but was it holding with the battering of high waters and floating debris?

      Hunched in the saddle, he’d cussed the miserable weather as he rode down the road in the storm. When he’d reached the narrow bridge and played his flashlight over the side, his breath caught. “What in the—?”

      Josh kept staring through the pelting rain until he was sure. A car was wedged against the underside of the bridge, undoubtedly ready to be swept away in the rising river.

      Bounding from the saddle, he secured his mount’s reins around a railing, and then he raced across the bridge and down the rain-sodden embankment. A few feet from the car, he could barely make out a small feminine figure staggering in the mud and water, losing her balance in the tumult.

      His shout was lost in a crash of thunder. A few more feet and she’d be dangerously close to the edge of the river. He bounded forward, and as he reached out and grabbed her, she lashed out in crazed terror. Not that he blamed her. Coming at her like that out of the dark, she had every reason to be frightened. Even now as he carried her to where his horse was tethered, she was trembling.

      “It’s okay,” he reassured her as he lifted her higher, set her sideways on his horse, and swung up into the saddle behind her. Opening his raincoat, he pulled her close so that she was enveloped in its folds. “We’re going to have you warm in no time.”

      Gratefully, she leaned against his chest, as he kicked the horse into motion. She was aware of the tensile strength in his muscular body as it responded to the rhythmic harmony of the horse’s movements. Even though she was still shivering in her drenched clothes, the warmth of his nearness radiated in a way that startled her. She felt totally safe. Protected?

      Don’t be a fool. A silent warning shot through her. The man had appeared out of nowhere, and she hadn’t even seen his face. The minute he laid his hands on her, he had physically overwhelmed her. Where was he taking her? And who would miss her if something happened to her?

      No one.

      After weeks of unemployment she’d lost touch with all her fellow workers. There were none who might be interested in this trip she’d taken to size up her inheritance and learn whether it was going to be a blessing or an albatross around her neck.

      Her thoughts raced ahead. One thing was frighteningly clear. No one in Timberlane would even be aware of her disappearance if she failed to arrive there. What she’d learned about Timberlane had not been reassuring. Apparently promoters’ plans to make it a bustling Colorado ski resort had fallen by the wayside, and it was hardly more than a wide spot in the road with barely a couple of hundred residents. Why her uncle Willard had tied up her inheritance in

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