Soul Deep Read Free

out.
    He drove to the access road and turned off
the highway, stopping to lower the snowplow. It was slow going the
rest of the way as he cleared the road. By the time he reached the
pasture, the cattle were waiting for him.
    He parked the truck, got out, and climbed
into the bed, cutting the cords that bound the bales and tossing
hay over the fence to the hungry animals, mostly pregnant cows.
They jostled against one another, lowing, their breath sending up
clouds of condensation.
    “Mind your manners, ladies. Someone might
think you were raised in a barn.”
    When he’d spread the hay out over the snow,
he got back into his truck and headed home, his mind on a hot
shower and strong coffee.
    Bitch and moan though he might, he loved this
life. Other people were out there right now fighting traffic on the
highway so they could sit in offices all day doing bullshit work
for other people, and he was out here, breathing mountain air,
being his own boss, and doing the kind of work that left a man’s
body tired but his soul fulfilled.
    Back on the highway, he made a mental note to
repair that fencepost once the owner of the car had their vehicle
towed. As he passed the car, he saw that the headlights were
flashing. Was someone down there?
    He pulled off onto the shoulder, parked, then
called Chuck on his sat phone. “Hey, I’m on my way back. There’s a
car off the road just past mile marker one-thirty-three. I think
someone’s still in the vehicle. I’m going to check it out.”
    He turned on the truck’s hazard lights and
pocketed his keys, then climbed out of the pickup. Why anyone had
gone out in yesterday’s blizzard without all-wheel drive was beyond
him. Didn’t they realize they were in Colorado?
    He grabbed a snow shovel out of the back,
then crossed the road, snow squeaking under his boots. The slope
was steep, and he slipped and slid his way down to the vehicle. A
few minutes of shoveling, and he’d managed to unbury the driver’s
side window.
    Through the frost-covered glass, he could
just make out a woman’s face.
    She rolled down the window. “Jack West?”
    He found himself looking into a pair of
familiar green eyes. Her dark hair was longer than the last time
he’d seen her, and there were lines of weariness on her face.
Still, he recognized her immediately.
    “Well, hello, there, SA Killeen. It seems
you’ve run into a little trouble.”

 
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     

CHAPTER TWO
    Janet stared up at him, unable to believe her
bad luck. She’d only met him once, but she’d recognize him
anywhere—those dark blue eyes, that square jaw, the thick
salt-and-pepper hair, the dark brows, the rugged cheekbones.
    Of all the fences along all the highways in
the entire state of Colorado, she just had to crash into
his.
    Sluggish from cold and lack of sleep, she
found herself explaining. “I … I slid off the road yesterday
morning. The truck in front of me swerved, and the next thing I
knew ... Sorry about the fencepost.”
    She expected him to say something cutting or
to make fun of drivers who didn’t know how to handle the roads in
snow, but he didn’t.
    “You’ve been down here since yesterday
morning?”
    “I tried to call for a tow, but ... ”
    He shook his head. “Your cell phone won’t do
you a damned bit of good here. Let’s get you to my truck. Your car
isn’t going anywhere, I’m afraid.”
    She pushed aside the space blanket she’d
wrapped herself in and reached for her cane, a wave of humiliation
washing over her to think of him seeing her like this. “I … I can’t
make it up the embankment. I tried.”
    She’d tried several times, but it was just
too much for her left leg.
    His gaze dropped to her cane, but he showed
no surprise. He must have heard she’d been shot. “We’ll figure it
out. Can you stand?”
    “Yes.”
    He opened the door and lifted it out of her
way with one arm.
    She turned in her seat so that both of her
feet