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She'd give up coffee for a year to have a car right now.
“Need a ride?” Hank jangled a set of rental keys in front of her nose. An easy smile curled his lips, but a sliver of uncertainty shined in his gaze.
Her hard-fought-for composure crumbled in the middle of the airport. With people swarming around them, hurrying from one concourse to another, she stopped trying to move forward and acknowledged the here and now. Here stood the man she loved. Strong. Loyal. Smart. Hot as hell. If she couldn’t let go enough to take a chance on him, she was twelve kinds of a fool.
Hank wrapped his arms around her, engulfing her crying form in his warm embrace. “Did you know that I’m going to be the best uncle in the world someday?”
The soft cotton of his Nebraska football polo muffled her chuckle. “Oh, Hank.”
“I mean it, Beth. I don’t care about some kids we may or may not ever have. I care about you.”
“But—”
“We’ll take it slow. We don’t have to decide everything right away. Trust me.” He brushed a kiss across her lips. “Trust yourself.”
Looking up into those Layton family hazel eyes, she wanted to say yes but fear had taken up too much room inside her for so long. You’re a real coward, Beth Martinez. “Hank…”
“I believe in you, Beth. I believe in us. Look, you don’t have to say anything this moment, just kiss me.”
And she did, with every bit of yes she had in her but couldn’t say out loud.
Four and a half hours later, they crossed the Dry Creek County line. The Bighorn Hills loomed up ahead, outlined by the full moon's white light. Named after the bighorn sheep that climbed them, the rounded slopes rose hundreds of feet above the prairie. Dotted with ponderosa pine, prairie grass, jutting outcrops of rocks and scattered patches of sagebrush, the hills seemed spectral set against the bright stars lighting up the night sky.
To tired drivers numbed by the flat monotony of Interstate 80, the Bighorn Hills appeared like mountains in comparison to the never-ending horizontal scenery of the Nebraska plain. For Beth, the sight meant home. And heartbreak.
The memories came unbidden.
The screeching of brakes.
The stench of burning rubber.
Her parents tumbling around the front seat like socks in the dryer.
EMTs pulling her from the wreckage.
“What the hell?” Hank's annoyed tone pulled her back into the present. “That moron is flying.”
Beth whipped around in her seat to look out the back window of the tiny subcompact rental car. A truck's high-set headlights zoomed toward them. As it got closer, the driver flashed his high beams, momentarily blinding Beth.
After a few blinks, her sight returned, obscured only by hazy halos that glowed in the middle distance. Her heart rate jacked up as panic buzzed through her body.
Automatically, she tested the seat belt to double-check it was fastened. Her fingers shook as she pulled against Hank's seat belt, making sure he was safe.
Lungs aching with the pressure of holding her breath, she forced herself to inhale and willed herself to think logically. She wasn't eight. She wasn't trapped in the backseat. It wasn't a drunk driver, just someone in a big hurry.
“Slow down and let them pass,” she urged. “Maybe it's an emergency.”
A vein pulsed in Hank's temple but he didn't say a thing as he eased his foot off the gas pedal.
The truck continued its swift approach, maneuvering at the last moment into the oncoming lane to pass. It pulled alongside, towering over the subcompact.
Nerves taunt, Beth glanced past Hank out the driver's-side window.
Sarah Jane Hunihan sat behind the truck’s wheel, her white skin glowing in the moonlight.
Beth couldn't look away as terror spun out of control, hurtling her into a full-on panic.
“Hank!”
