Just Enough Light Read Free

aid.
    Not the most auspicious of beginnings. But it couldn’t be helped. It was an accident, a temporary setback, and nothing more.
    That was when she discovered she had no cell signal. She’d no doubt lost it sometime back, when she left the interstate and headed farther up into the mountains. No doubt there was a rational explanation like the snow-laden trees were too tall or the surrounding mountains too steep. Or maybe the storm had defeated local service. It didn’t really matter.
    Staring once again at the cast covering her hand, she quietly released a string of words that were half expletive, half prayer. She knew it would be all but impossible for her to manage to change a tire. The best she could do was hope someone would come along before too long—not that she’d passed anyone in the last couple of hours on this lonely stretch of road.
    On the plus side, she had a near-full tank of gas, a couple of apples, some trail mix, and a box of crackers in her backpack. She’d be able to keep warm and wouldn’t go hungry. On the downside, she could already feel the onset of a headache from caffeine withdrawal. Where was a Starbucks when you needed one?
    Dana restarted the car and turned on both the headlights and emergency flashers in case someone came along the narrow road. Hopefully they’d see her in spite of the snow. For the moment, there was nothing else she could do, so she settled her head back, allowing her thoughts to drift while the radio provided a blur of background noise.
    Maybe if she counted to ten she wouldn’t be here anymore, in a snowstorm in the middle of nowhere with a flat tire. Right . Or maybe if she clicked her heels three times, she’d open her eyes and find she was really in Oz with the Tin Man and the Scarecrow. Or maybe she’d find—
    A sharp tapping on the car window drew her attention, startling her. Disoriented for a moment, she had no idea if she’d just been musing the time away or had actually fallen asleep.
    “Are you all right? Do you need help?”
    The low smoke-edged voice had her turning her head to look, but she couldn’t make out her rescuer through the frost- and snow-covered glass. Almost giddy with relief, she lowered her window and immediately got a face full of brutally cold, wet snow.
    A wry groan escaped Dana as she attempted to clear the snow from her face. She was also fairly certain the next sound she heard—coming from the direction of her would-be rescuer—was low and amused.
    Aware she was the source of this stranger’s amusement, Dana found herself even more curious to identify who had come to her rescue. She blinked several times, bringing a blurred image into focus, only to get lost in the vision looming above her.
    A vision with windblown hair the color of a moonless night sky, Ray-Ban aviator sunglasses, and a snow-dampened face. Make that an exquisite snow-dampened face. Lean and sharp angled, with a slight teasing smile on a mouth that invited trouble and just a hint of a dimple showing on one cheek.
    Dana stared. She couldn’t help herself. And then she shivered as snow unexpectedly slipped inside the collar of her sweater. But the shock of it, cold and wet against her skin, at least assured her she wasn’t dreaming.
    “Do you need help?” the vision repeated, her low voice wrapped around a laugh, her breath frosty in the air. “Are you stuck?”
    Nice smile, seeming sincerity. Somewhere between one heartbeat and the next, Dana found her voice. “Stuck? I’m afraid it’s worse than that. I’m supposed to meet someone in Haven, my front tire’s blown, and as you can see”—she waggled her cast—“I’m at a bit of a disadvantage.”

    *

    “Yes, I can see that.” Kellen barely contained a smile. “Other than that cast, did you hurt yourself in any way? Did you bang your head or twist anything?”
    “No. I promise. Nothing at all. A caffeine withdrawal headache is about the worst of it.”
    Kellen chewed on her lower lip and