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Her predicament got more precarious by the second. Not only was she driving a completely unsuitable car in terrible weather on roads she clearly knew nothing about, but she was doing it alone. And now she was about to be swept downriver at any second.
She was still staring at him warily out the window, probably unaware of how much danger she was in. She hadn’t actually spoken yet, which intrigued him slightly. Most women would either be screaming hysterically, or at the very least begging him for help.
He decided.
“I want you to put your car into neutral. Can you do that for me?”
She gave him a quizzical look, but he could see her look down and fiddle with the gearshift.
“Good. I’m going to use my truck to push you backward, out of the water. You’re going to have to steer, to make sure your wheels don’t drop off the floodway. Okay?” He had to yell to make himself heard over the heavy rain beating off the roof of his truck.
Did she even understand what he was asking her? Dale had never attempted this maneuver himself, but he’d seen Steve do it when he was younger. If he connected gently, the front bumper of the Corolla shouldn’t suffer too much damage. The way that water kept rising, though, it wasn’t going to matter for too much longer, anyway, because the car was going to be swept away. The big bull bar on his truck would protect it from harm.
“But I want to be on that side of the river.” His head jerked up at the sound of her voice. She pointed to his truck. “I need to keep going that way.” Her tone was cool and demanding, like she wouldn’t take no for an answer.
He shook his head. Didn’t she realize that even if he got her safely out of the water, her car would be undriveable?
“No can do,” he yelled back at her. She looked like she was going to argue, but he ducked into the cab and closed the door.
Putting the truck into gear, he slowly edged forward. His 4WD easily cut through the water, and he was in the middle of the floodway within seconds.
There was a loud bang, and the little white car moved a couple of inches sideways. Shit, it must’ve been hit by floating debris. A dead log or heavy branch that’d fallen in the water. He really needed to hurry. The girl didn’t scream, however, and she went up a few notches in his estimation. But her face finally took on an edge of fear as she stared at him through the windshield. He didn’t blame her; his heart was going a million miles an hour at the thought of what he was about to attempt.
Dale sucked in a fortifying breath and realigned his bull bar with the front of her car. Then, ever so gently, he drove forward until their vehicles were touching. He gave it a little gas, and they moved together a few inches. There was another loud bang and his truck shuddered under the impact of something heavy. Bugger. There was a ton of debris in the water. At least this one had hit his truck and not the Corolla. He needed to move her. Now.
He touched the gas pedal again, and the car was rolling in front of him, headed out of the water. Thank God, Steve’s trick seemed to be working. He could see the girl over the bonnet of his truck through the windshield, she was so close now. Eyes wide, and mouth drawn back in a half-grimace of panic. Then, a flicker of determination crossed her features, and she turned her head to peer through the rear window, guiding the car up the steep incline toward the security of the gravel road.
It took less than twenty seconds to push the little car out of the flowing water and onto shore. He kept going, indicating for her to steer the car off the side of the road, so they could park it out of the way. He stopped his truck and turned off the ignition. She was safe. They were both safe.
The adrenaline left his body in a rush, and he tipped his head against the backrest of his seat. Wow, that’d been intense.
Now that he had them both out of danger on the other side, his anger at the stupidity of it all returned. This girl was going to get a piece of his mind. He’d possibly saved her life, and he was entitled to vent his exasperation.
He opened his door, rammed his Akubra on his head and marched over to the driver’s side door, which was already opening. In that split second, he caught his first full look at the woman. Even with straggling, wet hair, and face flushed pink from the heat and danger of her situation, she was extremely beautiful. Her skin had a dusky hue, the color somewhere between polished copper and the espresso he liked to drink in the morning. And those eyes, wide and blue-green, reminding him of a fresh flush of young eucalyptus leaves in the summer.
He had to remind himself that whatever excuse she had, it wouldn’t be good enough. He didn’t want to hear it.
“Thank you, I don’t…” Her gratitude died on her lips as he fixed her with a steely gaze.
“Of all the crazy, stupid things to do. If that water had been any deeper, you could’ve been swept away. Why would you cross a flooded creek in this little…?” He waved a hand in the car’s direction, unable to communicate his complete astonishment that she could have tried something so foolhardy. He didn’t wait for her to reply. “This car is completely inappropriate for this country, not suited to the rough, dirt roads at all. What if I hadn’t come along when I did?”
He stood back, hoping his words had got through to her. Those olive-green eyes narrowed in his direction, and a red flush crept up her neck to replace the pretty pink hue as her beautiful face turned hard. A flicker of doubt crossed his mind. Perhaps he could’ve toned his admonition down a bit. Had he been a little rough?
She put her hands on her hips. “Who the bloody hell do you think you are? Bloody Sir Lancelot, or something?”
He almost laughed. She had an attitude, that was for sure. Standing there in the pelting rain as if she owned the road. He gave her a quick, assessing look, before returning his gaze to meet her eyes. She was tall, almost came up to his chin, which would make her around five-foot eight or nine, perhaps. Long-limbed and willowy to the point of being thin. She wore denim shorts, sneakers and a light blue tank top with flowers all over it, her brown skin slick with rain.
“I’ve driven these roads in this car lots of times. I don’t need some hick cowboy to tell me what to do,” she said, ignoring the rivulets of water running down her face.
What the hell? “Even if that hick cowboy just rescued your ass?” he asked, anger giving way to incredulity. But even as he spoke, his mind was ticking over, trying to determine if her words were true. If she had been driving these roads, been in the area, like she claimed, why hadn’t he seen her before?
“Which I was about to thank you for, if you hadn’t been such a meathead about the whole thing. You men and your bloody egos. You’re more trouble than you’re worth most of the time.”
Where had that come from? He was pretty sure he didn’t deserve that. That sounded more like the woman had issues of her own going on.
He took a deep breath. Time to get this conversation back on an even keel. He was already soaked through, but he’d like to get out of this rain, if possible.
“Look, I’m sorry I yelled at you.” He held out a hand. “I’m Dale Williams. I work over at Stormcloud Station.”
