Almost Home Read Free

any
time soon, that's for sure. I don't expect she'll get off this road in anything
but a tow truck."
    "Oh, hell, like I need this right now." Zach
ran his hand through his hair and stared at the latest problem to erupt in his
life. He was so close to getting everything he wanted, he could almost taste
it. Thirty-four years of struggling, of climbing out of the darkness of his
childhood, to finally have something, to be somebody, and he wouldn't let anyone
get in the way.
    "No harm's done," Sam reminded him. "How
about I get Rogue on home, and you stay with the woman? Unless you're afraid of
a little thing like her."
    "Yeah, right."
    "I already called for help. Tow truck should be
here in a few minutes. Now, be nice to her, you hear?"
    Be nice? Zach still felt like wringing the woman's
pretty neck. He walked over to where she was sitting and squatted down next to
her. "You okay?" he asked gruffly.
    She lifted her head. Her eyes were watery, but she
wasn't crying, and he saw a gleam of bravado in those baby blues. "I'm
fine, thank you. I thought you'd be gone by now."
    "I thought someone better stay with you in case
you pass out or something."
    "What about your precious horse?"
    "Sam will take him home. The tow truck is on its
way. Do you need an ambulance, a doctor?"
    "No, I'm all right. A tow truck is all I need, I
guess."
    Zach looked over at Sam, who was waiting by the
trailer. He gave him the thumbs-up sign and watched as Sam got into the trailer
and drove away. Then he looked back at the woman in front of him. She was
staring at her car in bemusement
    "Do you think they'll be able to get it out?"
she asked.
    "Yeah, but I wouldn't plan on driving it."
    She sighed. "I appreciate your staying. For some
reason, I didn't think you'd be helping me." She looked at him again, a
challenge in her eyes, in the tilt of her chin.
    "Haven't you ever heard of southern hospitality?"
    "I've heard of it. I just haven't seen any."
    "Ouch."
    She scowled at him, then scrambled to her feet and brushed
the dirt off of her pants. She strode over to the car and yanked open the door
to the backseat.
    "Oh, thank goodness," she said.
    Zach got up and walked over to the car, expecting to
see her reaching for her makeup case, but the large cedar chest in the backseat
was obviously not filled with cosmetics. "What's that?"
    She patted the top of the chest with a loving hand. "This
is my past and maybe—just maybe my future."
    "Huh?" Zach took her arm and pulled her
around so she was looking at him. He held up three fingers. "How many
fingers do you see?"
    "Three and I'm not hallucinating."
    "If you say so." He let go of her arm. "Where
are you headed?"
    "
Paradise
Valley
."
    He felt his gut tighten. "Why?"
    She seemed taken aback by his question. "Why not?"
    "It's not exactly a hub of nightlife."
    "I'm not looking for nightlife. Although—do you
know of a place called Golden's Grill?"
    Zach hesitated, feeling a chill run through his body.
He didn't like the look in her eyes. She certainly hadn't come from wherever
she'd come from to go to Golden's Grill.
    "I know Golden's," he said reluctantly.
    Her mouth blossomed into a sparkling, hopeful smile
that stole his breath away. "Then it really exists. I hoped it would still
be there."
    "Why do you want to go to Golden's?"
    "I'm looking for someone."
    "Who?"
    When she didn't answer right away, a sense of
uneasiness crept up Zach's spine. She was here to cause trouble. He could feel
it in his bones. And the last thing he needed was more trouble.
    "My father," she said slowly.
    Damn. He knew he shouldn't have asked. But she was
staring at him, waiting for the next question, and he couldn't seem to stop it
from crossing his lips. "Who is your father?"
    "I don't know."
    "If you don't know, then how are you going to
find him?"
    She hesitated. "Maybe you could help me."
    "Me? No way." He uttered a short harsh
laugh. "I don't look for fathers, mine or anyone else's. In my experience,
the best family is no