LITMIR.BIZ

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couldn’t stand there and let her strip. Moving toward the door to open it for her, he came to an abrupt halt when she stepped back.

      “I’m just opening the door, I promise.”

      “I can do that,” she assured him breathlessly, her gaze still glued to him.

      “This is ridiculous, Miss Hibbets. I wasn’t trying to hurt you.”

      “Fine. I’m leaving now, Mr. Graybow. But I’d appreciate it if you’d keep your distance.” When he remained in place, she continued moving to the door.

      With one hand behind her back, she turned the doorknob and started outside.

      Over her shoulder, Doug stared at the illuminated circle made by the porch light and knew he couldn’t let her leave. “Damn!”

      LESLIE WAS ON THE VERGE of turning her back on the demented man and racing for her car when she heard his expletive. Shocked, she looked at his face and then turned away. She had no time to spare.

      “Stop! You can’t leave, Miss Hibbets. It’s too dangerous!” he called.

      She assumed he was referring to the snow falling thickly. It had started snowing shortly after she started for the ranch, but she’d forgotten about it because of all that had happened. Now, there was already almost half a foot on her car. But she would choose snow over the man behind her any day.

      Though she slowed to maintain her footing, she never stopped. She’d be all right once she got into her car and locked the door.

      She was down the steps, with her car parked only a few feet away, when one of those strong hands grabbed her arm, preventing her departure.

      “Stop, Miss Hibbets. It isn’t safe!”

      Automatically she wrenched her arm from his hold. When, only seconds later, she touched the door handle, she knew she’d won.

      As she did, she heard a large crash. Keeping her hand on the door, she looked over her shoulder to see Mr. Graybow lying in the snow at the bottom of the steps. He wasn’t moving. Holding her breath, she leaned slightly toward him. “Are you okay?”

      His only answer was a groan.

      “Mr. Graybow, I’m not going to fall for any of your tricks. You might as well get up.”

      He muttered something and tried to stand up, then fell back again with an even louder moan.

      “Mr. Graybow?” Was the man a total klutz? First he burned his hand and now he fell down the stairs. And what was she supposed to do about it?

      “I can’t— I might’ve broken something,” the man gasped.

      That she could believe. It hurt to even look at his lean, muscular leg bent at an odd angle.

      “Is there anyone I can call for help?”

      “B-bunkhouse,” he muttered, his voice shaking, either from pain or the wet snow beginning to cover him.

      Though she could dimly make out another building with a light burning, she decided the easiest way to summon help would be to use her car horn. Opening the door, she slid beneath the wheel, ignoring the temptation to drive away from this nightmare. Grateful for the Girl Scouts of her youth, she tapped out SOS.

      Though it only took a couple of minutes for a response, they were the longest two minutes of her life. A distant door was slammed open and she finally heard the welcome sound of voices and footsteps.

      “What the hell’s goin’ on?” one of the men shouted as he reached the area lit by the porch light.

      Leslie was standing by her car door. She stepped forward. “Mr. Graybow fell. I think he’s broken his leg.”

      “Ma’am,” the man said, tipping his hat even as he went down on one knee by his employer.

      “Boss? You break a leg?”

      “I don’t—damn,” Graybow said and then gasped. “The thing hurts like hell.”

      “Curly, go get the four-wheeler,” the man said to one of the cowboys. “It’s about all that will get through tonight.”

      A man, supposedly Curly, ran away, and the other man turned his attention to Leslie. “Ma’am, would you go get some blankets from the house? Maybe a sleepin’ bag, too, and a pillow.”

      She started to explain that she wouldn’t know where to look, but the man bent back toward his boss, assuming she would follow his orders. With a shrug, she stepped carefully over the injured man and climbed the steps to open the front door.

      Two pairs of brown eyes stared at her from the bottom of the stairs. “Leslie!” Justin cried, leaping up and running to wrap his arms around her legs. “You didn’t go.”

      Gareth followed his brother and Leslie found it impossible to move. “Boys, I need your help. Your father fell, and I need to find some blankets to keep him warm.”

      Gareth ran off to find the items she’d mentioned, but Justin stayed by her side.

      “Is Daddy hurt bad?”

      She knelt down beside him. “The ranch hands have come to help him. I’m sure he’ll be all right as soon as we get him warm.”

      Justin took her hand and led her after Gareth. With the boys’ expert guidance, it only took a couple of minutes to round up the items. The boys followed her to the door, but she made them stay inside in spite of their protests.

      The Jeep pulled up just as she reached the bottom of the stairs.

      “Here. I found everything.”

      The cowboy ignored her as he gestured for the other men to help him lift Graybow.

      “Shouldn’t you splint the leg before you move him?” she asked, concerned in spite of herself.

      “Lady, we got to get him out of this blizzard!”

      She covered her ears when Doug Graybow gave a mangled cry of pain as he was moved. Fortunately for him, he passed out before they got him into the vehicle.

      His cry brought both boys tumbling down the steps, their footed pajamas immediately wet from the snow. “Daddy?” they cried, terror in their voices.

      Leslie turned and scooped both of them into her arms and lifted them back to the porch. “Your dad is going to be fine. It just hurt when they moved him.”

      “Daddy don’t never complain when he’s hurt,” Gareth assured her.

      Leslie could believe that statement. He seemed like the kind of male who could never admit a weakness. Look at how he had refused to listen to her offer because he was embarrassed at not having money for a housekeeper.

      “Excuse me, ma’am, but who are you?” the cowboy who seemed to be in charge asked.

      “Leslie cooked us dinner,” Justin assured him.

      “I—” Leslie began, sure he would demand more of an explanation.

      “Oh, a friend. Well, could you stay with the boys? It’ll take two of us to get him to town, and the other two will have to carry on in the morning, so if you don’t mind—” He turned as another moan came from the truck. “Okay?”

      Without waiting for her agreement, he leapt down several steps and slid behind the wheel of the truck.

      “Wait! I—”

      But in seconds the Jeep had completely disappeared in the falling snow, abandoning her to care for two little boys she scarcely knew.

      Chapter Three

      “You’ll stay with us, won’t you, Leslie?” Justin’s eyes as well as his voice pleaded with her. But it was the look on his face that decided her.

      “Yes, of course I will,” she said, “and the first

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