AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Was he talking about turning the car around and heading back for the house…or was there a hidden meaning in his words? She didn't know, and his stony expression gave her no clue.
“I can't lift that tree trunk, and there's no way I'm letting you out of this car to try it,” she said sternly, correctly assessing the glint in his eyes. “If we stay parked here too long, there's an excellent chance the snow will get too deep for us to drive through. It's almost too deep now.” Her sigh was equal parts frustration and resignation. “Think about it, Garrett. Wouldn't it be better to get stuck at the house rather than here? As long as the electricity doesn't go out, the house has heat. And even if the electricity does go out, there's plenty of firewood, blankets, and food.”
“But no doctor.”
“Right. No doctor,” Murphy echoed flatly. She shook her head, wondering how she could ever have thought this man was a thief. Sheesh, he seemed more determined to reach a town and the authorities than she was—and that was saying something! Of course, Garrett had a good reason; he was the one in pain, with a chunk of metal embedded in his thigh. “Let's go back to the house, and you can let me try to take out that—”
“No.”
“Garrett, be reasonable!”
“Damn it, I said no!”
Murphy wasn't the only one startled by the anger in his voice. Moonshine scrambled off of Garrett's lap with a hiss and glare, bounding over the seat and disappearing amongst the shadows on the floor behind them, where it was quiet.
“You're acting like a child,” Murphy said sternly.
He glared at her. “No, I'm not.”
“Yes, you are.”
“Am not.?
??
“Will you listen to yourself?!” One dark eyebrow lifted as she returned his glare with a level one of her own. “Pouting isn't going to move that tree.”
“And neither are you,” he growled as, crossing his arms over his chest, he shifted his gaze, staring moodily out her side of the breath-fogged windshield.
Pursing her lips, she instantly reassessed. “Moody” wasn't the right term. “Disappointed” would be a more accurate way to describe the frown creasing Garrett's brow.
That he'd taken a huge gamble on the Rabbit making it to town before the roads were closed by the storm was obvious. It was a wager he'd lost. Didn't he have a right to be upset and disappointed? Of course.
On the other hand, Murphy was also right when she'd said he was acting like a child—whether the reaction was justified or not. The observation gave her a starting base. Her job, after all, involved working with children. Usually abused, abandoned, reluctant and stubborn children. Why should the tactics she used on them be any less effective on Garrett Thayer?
Her eyes narrowed, and her gaze raked him. In one sweeping glance she took in his broad shoulders—they looked wider beneath the leather bomber jacket—and his lean, denim-clad hips. She'd pruned away the right leg of his jeans so the snug fitting cloth wouldn't aggravate his wound. The white gauze wrapped around his thigh couldn't conceal the bands of sinew playing beneath. His shins were covered with a dusting of thick, dark gold hair.
With effort, Murphy forced her gaze back to the road. Okay, so he didn't look like any of the kids who trooped through her office every day. Still, he was acting like one of them. That in mind, she softened her tone, edging it with what she hoped was the perfect touch of authority. “The way I see it, our choices are limited. Neither of us can move that tree, and we can't go around it.”
Garrett opened his mouth to argue. A quick glare from Murphy had him snapping it closed so quickly his teeth clicked together. There was no arguing with logic. Apparently, he knew that, although his expression suggested he conceded to the fact only with great reluctance.
Satisfied she'd made her point, Murphy finished putting the car into first gear, and simultaneously worked the clutch and gas pedal. “We're going back to the house,” she said matter-of-factly, taking the decision out of his hands. “First thing I'll do when we get there is try the phone again. Maybe it's working by now.”
“And if it isn't?”
She gritted her teeth and counted to ten. Twice. With forced lightness, she replied, “Why don't we cross that bridge when we come to it, okay?”
“Whatever you say, sweetheart,” he grumbled, directing his attention back out the window. “I'm in no condition to argue.”
Snow crunched beneath the tires as the Rabbit lunged forward. The wind howled, and since her side window hadn't rolled all the way up since she'd bought the car, she could hear it whistling in through the crack of space that separated the glass from its paint-chipped metal casing.
An eighth of a mile ahead, the road curved to the right. It took the Rabbit a full three minutes to reach the bend.
By then, the tension inside the car was as thick and as icy as the storm kicking up outside. It was clear Garrett Thayer was not used to being helpless, and that's exactly what his wounded leg made him. He had to rely on her, and he didn't like it. Not one little bit. Would he be surprised to learn she wasn't overly fond of the idea herself?
Leaning forward, Murphy scraped a fresh coat of frost off the inside of the windshield. The lone wiper struggled to swish the heavy, wet snow off the outside of the glass.
She frowned. Was it her imagination, or—? “Garrett?”
