Stranded with the Rancher. Janice Maynard
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Beth was mortified...and aroused...and exhausted from their ordeal. And aroused. Did she say that out loud? Fantasizing about kissing Drew Farrell was nothing like the real deal. For one thing, he was far gentler with her than she’d imagined he’d be. Almost as if he expected her to be afraid of him. Fat chance. She’d been dreaming about this moment for months.
But why did it have to happen in such incredibly drab and dreadful surroundings? As truly thankful and grateful as she was to be alive, getting out of this cheerless hole was fast becoming a necessity. She was pretty tough. Not only that, she had beaten some pretty tough odds to make it as far in life as she had. But claustrophobia and fear of the dark were gaining the upper hand. Even hanky-panky with Drew was not quite enough to steady her nerves when she felt the walls closing in.
She decided to ignore his situation. He’d been right to call a halt to their exploratory madness. Such impulsive actions would only embarrass them both after they were rescued.
When she sat down again, her legs weak, Drew resumed his pacing. If sexual energy had an aura, she was pretty sure the two of them could have lit up their confined cell without ever using a flashlight.
Silence reigned after that. With her phone turned off, she had no way to check the time. She didn’t want to ask Drew. So she sat.
The chair grew harder. The air grew damper. Far in the distance, she thought she heard the wail of sirens. Not another tornado alarm, but a medical vehicle this time. Now, she could no longer pretend that she and Drew were a couple enjoying an innocent kiss. What waited for them above was terrifying. She had no clue what to expect, and she was pretty sure she didn’t want to know.
After a half hour passed in dead quiet, she heard him sigh heavily. He reclaimed his spot beside her, scooting his chair a few inches away from hers. She didn’t waste time being offended. It was survival of the fittest at this moment. Sexual insanity would only exacerbate matters.
When he finally spoke, she jumped.
“Did you really steal money to buy bread?”
* * *
Drew wasn’t sure why he wanted to know. But he did.
After a very long pause, Beth finally spoke. “Yes. My mother was not very responsible when it came to things like that. I often had to fake her signature on permission slips for my brother and me. Most kids learn to count money in kindergarten and first grade because it’s part of the curriculum. I learned out of necessity.”
Drew sat in silence absorbing the spare details of Beth’s story. Contrasting her early life with the way he had grown up made him wince at his good fortune.
He knew instinctively that she wouldn’t want his sympathy. So instead, he focused on that kiss. Beth had been eager and responsive and fully in the moment. He adjusted his jeans, groaning inwardly. The last thing he needed right now was to acknowledge an attraction that had been growing for two years. Beth was beautiful and smart and capable. Of course, he was drawn to her. But that didn’t mean he had to be stupid. His sole focus at the moment needed to be making sure he and Beth could manage until help arrived.
Her quiet voice startled him. “Will you check the time, please? And see if cell service is back up.”
“Sure.” He hit the dial on his watch. “Nine o’clock.” He turned on his phone, waited, and winced when he saw the battery at sixty-eight percent. “Still nothing.”
Sitting was no longer an option. His muscles twitched with the need to do something...anything. He went to the cellar doors and tried again to push upward. Whatever was holding them in place might as well have been an elephant. He and Beth were never going to be able to get out on their own.
Leaning his hip against the ladder, he admitted the truth. “We might as well accept the fact that we’re going to be here overnight. It’s dark up top. There are probably power lines down and roads that are blocked. Search and rescue will have a wide area to cover, and they may not get to us until morning.”
“If then.”
He let that one pass. “I think it’s time to eat something.” Rummaging in the footlocker, he found a small metal tin full of beef jerky. He removed a couple pieces and handed one to Beth. “Bon appétit.”
She didn’t say anything, but he heard the rustle of plastic packaging as she opened the snack.
There were two more box-shaped flashlights in the footlocker. If he wanted to, he could turn on one of the smaller ones they were already using to illuminate their living space—until the juice ran out. But on the off chance their incarceration lasted longer than twenty-four hours or more, it made sense to preserve the batteries.
He rummaged a second time and handed Beth a bottle of water. “Drink only half if you can. We need to hope for the best and plan for the worst.”
“If we ever get out of here, I’ll put that on a T-shirt for you. The wisdom of Drew Farrell.”
“Are you making fun of me?”
“Not at all. Merely trying to stave off feminine hysteria.”
He grinned in the darkness, chewing the jerky and swallowing it with a grimace. “You’re about the least hysterical woman I’ve ever met.”
“I have my moments.”
“Not that I’ve seen. I admire you, Beth, despite my grousing.”
“There you go again...being nice. It creeps me out.”
“That’s because you’ve only seen one side of me. I can actually be quite a gentleman when I choose. Case in point, I promise not to have my wicked way with you while we sleep tonight.”
She laughed out loud. “I don’t think I can get down on this floor unless we turn on a light and check for spiders and other nasty stuff.”
The husky feminine amusement in her voice made him happy. At least he’d distracted her for a moment. “That’s doable. I came across one of those reflective silver space blankets in the trunk. I thought we could spread that on the ground. It won’t make us any more comfortable, but at least it will be clean. I’ll sit up and lean against the wall. You can put your head in my lap for a pillow.”
“You can’t sleep sitting up. Either we both lie down, or we perch on these folding chairs until we fall over.”
“Stubborn woman.”
“Definitely the pot calling the kettle black.”
“Are you tired?”
“I don’t really know. All my synapses are fried. Sheer terror will do that to you.”
She was right. The adrenaline had flowed hot and heavy this afternoon. “I’m betting if we keep still long enough we might be able to sleep. We’ll need rest to handle whatever happens tomorrow.”
He heard rather than saw her stand up. When her hand touched his arm, he realized that she had come to him.... one human seeking comfort from another. “It’s going to be bad, isn’t it?”
He nodded, squeezing her hand briefly. “Yeah. Wind strong enough to lift whatever is on top of us will have done a hell of a lot of damage.”
Her sigh was audible. “Let’s get settled for the night, then. The sooner we sleep, the sooner morning will come.”
* * *
Beth wanted to weep with joy when Drew turned on one of the flashlights so they could construct their makeshift bed. Being able to see his face gave her a shot of confidence and relief. Everything in Royal might have changed, but Drew was still Drew. His features were drawn and tired, though. She could only imagine what she looked like. It was probably a good thing she didn’t have a mirror. Her hair felt like a rat’s nest.
Thankfully, the cellar was not as bad as she’d imagined. Drew checked