by Leigh Smith
Prologue
On the way back from New Mexico after spending Christmas with his long-estranged family, Mitch kept thinking about how his life had changed since that day he met the woman who was now sitting next to him. It was a good thing Bonnie was driving because his thoughts weren't on the road. He kept jumping back and forth between now and then.
Mitch Ryder worked on the Double JJ Ranch. He loved his job because it involved working with horses rather than people. A solitary man, being around people made him uncomfortable. He and Sam were driving home after five days on the road; they were within one hundred and fifty miles of cold beer, hot showers and getting out of the damn truck. Mitch hated these trips, but it was all part of the job. He had successfully delivered the four horses to their new home and with any luck it would be a couple of months before he had to do it again.
He was trying to get a station on the radio on this desolate stretch of highway when he saw a flash of color ahead. He started to slow down, and as he got closer he saw a female waving her arms. Normally, he wouldn't have stopped, but out here in the middle of nowhere it would be criminal not to help out. The thing that bothered him was that there wasn't a vehicle in site. What the hell was she doing out here? Was there someone hiding in the gulch waiting to steal his truck?
He slowed but didn't turn on his blinker. He drove past and stopped about fifteen yards ahead. He got out and debated letting Sam out before he decided to make use of Sam's talents. Sam would let him know if this was a set-up or not. Sam, his trusty companion of ten years, was a mutt of questionable lineage. Mitch had found him on a road much like this one on a trip just like this one. He never knew where he came from but here was this little pup all by his lonesome, running along the highway. It was the best stop Mitch had ever made. Now Sam was his constant companion - from that little ball of fur that came running toward him to the 100-pound giant he was today.
Sam sniffed the air and took off toward the stranded female. Coast clear, was the message Mitch received. He approached the woman who had bent down to pet Sam.
One point in her favor.
"Howdy, ma'am. What the hell are you doing out here in the middle of nowhere?"
She looked up at him, still petting Sam and answered. "There is no easy answer to that question, Mister."
"No, I don't suppose there would be. Are you expecting someone to pick you up, are you stranded, do you need a ride?" Mitch asked these questions in his usual abrupt way and tone.
"No, yes, yes." She replied.
Another point in her favor, she didn't ramble on and on.
"Sam and I are headed toward Weatherford. You're welcome to join us, or I'll drop you off wherever you want along the way."
When she bent to pick up her duffle bag, he couldn't help but notice the soft jeans that cradled every curve and hugged her peach of a bottom. All of a sudden, he felt a slight tightness in his jeans. He wasn't a monk but he kept women at arm's length and wasn't used to this kind of bodily reaction from just a look.
He took the duffle from her and headed to the truck. He opened the back door cab and told Sam to get in.
"No, let him have his seat. We'll both fit."
Another point in her favor. She was racking up points quicker than he could rack a pool shot. He was impressed.
Mitch wasn't much of a talker, and they had ridden about twenty miles in silence when she asked if she could turn on the radio.
"Go ahead, but I haven't been able to find anything out here but farm reports."
She laughed and said it wasn't a surprise; they were fifty miles from nowhere and one hundred miles to somewhere.
He chuckled at the response and agreed. "It's none of my business, but I'm curious what the hell had you by the side of the road."
"I couldn't take it anymore is the short answer."
If that was all the answer she was willing to give he wasn't about to push. He understood that not everyone poured their heart out to passing strangers.
"Any plans?"
"Away from there." He chuckled at the response. "By the way, I'm Bonnie Baxter."
"Nice to meet you, Bonnie, I'm Mitch Ryder, and this here is Sam," he said as he ruffled the hair on Sam's head.
"I see there's a rest stop ahead. Would you mind stopping? I have need of a restroom, and I can't do what you guys do."
"Sure, give Sam and me another chance to stretch our legs before we get home." He pulled in and watched her walk to the restroom. Her jeans and shirt were well worn but clean, her boots old but polished. She held her head high but her shoulders slumped, and he could almost hear her story in his head. He had seen or heard it many times before. This area of the country could be hard on females. Most escaped the first chance they got and sometimes jumped from the frying pan into the fire. He suspected that was Bonnie Baxter's story. He'd learn it if she wanted to share but he wouldn't ask.
"That's a whole lot more comfortable," she said as she climbed back into the truck. "Thank you."
"You're welcome. There's a cooler in the back with some pop if you're interested."
"Nope, I'm good."
And they settled back into silence as he pulled out of the rest stop. A little further down the road he noticed traffic which was unusual so he started to slow down. "Must be an accident or something ahead."
"Looks that way."
As they got closer, they could see it was a road block. There were several police cars with blinking lights on both sides of the road. He noticed a bit of edginess to Bonnie's behavior. The closer they got to the checkpoint, the more nervous she seemed to become.
"Is there something I should know before we go any further?"
"I don't know, is there?"
"Don't go getting smart mouthed with me. Are they looking for you?"
He watched as a shudder seemed to ripple through her body. "Not sure, maybe."
"Have you done anything illegal?"
"No."
"Are you sure? I don't want any trouble."
"No, I haven't done anything illegal. I only took what was mine."
Mitch didn't ask any more questions, and Bonnie didn't volunteer any more information as they slowly inched their way to the checkpoint. When it was their turn, a trooper stuck his head in the window and looked around.
"What's going on?" Mitch asked.
"Mind if we look in the trailer?"
"Go ahead, it isn't locked."
The trooper stayed put and motioned to another officer holding a dog. They walked to the trailer. The dog sniffed and then motioned a thumb's up. "Okay, you can go."
He watched Bonnie's body slump into the seat as she breathed a sigh of relief. He realized she couldn't be more than twenty-five years old yet everything else about her screamed much older.
Once through the checkpoint, traffic thinned out again. "Want to tell me what that was all about?"
"I guess they were checking for drugs."
"That's not what I mean, and you know it."
"I do know it. Are you ready for a sob story?"
Mitch heard the tremor in her voice.
"I was raised on a ranch not that far from where you picked me up. My momma died when I was little and my stepfather raised me. He was good to me. It was a hard life, but things were good until his son from his first marriage came to live with us. Daddy got sick last year, and I nursed him as best I could. When he died I thought things could go on as before. I was wrong. Willy, my stepbrother, turned out to be a real bastard. He started demanding things that weren't ever going to happen and when I refused he told me to get out. I did. I took my family's jewelry, which wasn't much, my clothes, again not much and the deed to the ranch that Daddy left to me. I guess he knew his son a lot better than I did. Anyway, I have the deed to the forty acres of land that I'm sure no one really wants, but it's mine and I'm going to keep it that way." By the time she was finished telling her story, tears were streaming down her cheeks.
Mitch couldn't believe it, but he wanted to reach over and kiss those tears away. Instead, he handed her a packet of Kleenex from the glove box.
"I can't believe I'm saying this, but Sam seems to trust you. I have a little house not far from the ranch where I work. If you want, you're welcome to stay there until you figure out what to do and where to go. I'm probably more like your dad than your stepbrother, so you don't have to worry about me bothering you."
She giggled. "So you'd be more likely to take me over your knee than take me to bed."
"Yeah, that sounds about right, although I could be inclined to do both, depending on the situation." It was his turn to chuckle as he watched a blush overtake her face. Bonnie Baxter was a pretty girl - not a raving beauty - but her beauty seemed to come from the inside and radiated outward. She reminds me of what I think an angel looks like, he thought. She had strawberry blond hair, with clear blue eyes and freckles sprinkled across her face. Though she appeared fragile, Mitch thought she was probably stronger than she appeared. She almost had to be to live where she did.
"I think I'd like to take you up on your offer to stay at your place, at least til I get on my feet. Until then, I could pay my way by doing the cooking and cleaning if you'd like."
"Sounds good."
Bonnie settled into Mitch's house, a typical ranch house in which the decor was all dark wood and leather. It was well lived in, and was comfortable and inviting though it lacked any personal items, save for books and a stack of magazines about horses. Her room contained a simple bed covered with an old-fashioned quilt, a nightstand with a lamp, and a dresser with a mirror above it; it was sparse but it was what she was used to back at home.
Mitch liked coming home to a clean house, clean clothes, and dinner on the table. Bonnie took a part-time job as a waitress in the local eatery and enrolled in the local community college, volunteering in the school office part-time to offset the cost of her tuition. He was an easy roommate, never making demands and pretty much cleaning up after himself. Their arrangement worked well until one evening Bonnie accepted a ride home from working a late shift at the diner. Their life seemed to change after that. When she walked in the door, Mitch was sitting in his usual chair, Sam at his side, reading a paper, except she noticed the paper was upside down.
"So what does the paper have to say about the latest crisis brewing in the Middle East?"
"You should know, you're always up on current events." He was grumpy but sometimes after a hard day at the ranch that was his way.
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