Chapter 2
“Shit! Road’s closed.”
Isabelle’s head shot up from where she’d been trying not to fall asleep. “What…what does that mean?”
Chance put his truck in reverse and backed up, his back tires going off the edge of the road before he shifted to drive and cranked the wheel, heading the vehicle back in the direction from which they came. “It means that the road is closed. No one’s getting through.” He jerked his chin toward the road ahead of them. “My place is just a couple miles back. You can stay there tonight. I’m sure the plows’ll push through in the morning, then I can get you where you need to be.”
“No.” Isabelle shook her head, setting her shoulders in a hard line. When he glanced at her, brows furrowed in irritation, he finally got a good look at her. She was facing him now – hell, she was looking right at him – and he couldn’t tear his eyes from hers. Behind that silky wall of black tresses, she was hiding these fucking amazing eyes. Eyes he couldn’t look away from. With his heightened sight, he could see every brilliant color. The black of her pupils was surrounded by smoky gray, morphing into a swirl of golden yellow, before exploding outward into a sea of blue and white. Her eyes looked like tiny replicas of the planet earth housed in her delicate face and surrounded by lush black lashes. They were in direct contrast to the rich bronze of her skin, which spoke of Native ancestry.
“Your eyes,” he breathed, realizing he was staring like a psycho. “They’re…”
“Yeah,” she ducked her head, the fall of her hair sweeping forward and hiding her from view again. “I know. Weird. People tell me all the time.”
She sounded a little insulted and a lot annoyed, but he hadn’t been about to call her eyes weird. They were odd for sure, but they were breathtaking. He tore his gaze away from where she was hiding from him and clenched the steering wheel. He hadn’t been about to tell her he thought her eyes were beautiful either, and as they drove in silence he wondered what he would have said if she hadn’t cut him off like she had.
Shaking his head he thought back to the conversation they’d been having. She’d said something… No. She’d told him no when he’d offered her a place to stay. Clearing his throat, he began, “Listen. I know you don’t know me, but…”
“I’m not staying at your place,” she cut him off.
Chance’s jaw clenched.
“Thank you, but if you could just give me a ride to the nearest town.”
“That’s what I was just trying to do and it ain’t happening.”
She pointed straight ahead now that they were headed back the way they came. “What about his way? Can’t you just take me to the nearest town this way?”
“Sure,” he gritted. “Only it’ll mean taking you back to where you started from.” He glanced at her pointedly. “You wanna make that walk again tomorrow? In deep snow?”
She paled and her slight frame trembled. He wanted to tick up the corner of his mouth in triumph, but he simply wasn’t feeling it. No, his animal was riled and this woman wasn’t helping.
She huddled in her seat once more, head turning away from him as she gazed out her window. The fall of her dark hair shielded her face from his view again, but he could see her reflection in the glass, worry written on her soft features. His nostrils flared, and assaulted once more by the scent of her pain his beast growled at him to do something about it. He’d been content to ignore it when he thought he’d just be dropping her off somewhere, but now it was his problem. Finally, he ground out, “You hurt?”
“No,” she immediately lied, and it pissed him off.
Damn her! If she was going to sit in his truck and lie to him, then she could just as soon get out and walk. Throwing his hand across the console, he slammed on the brakes, catching her weight before she could slam into the dash. Her head jerked in his direction, but he didn’t even bother looking at her or her big startled eyes. “If you’re gonna lie to me than you can just get the hell out.”
He jerked his head toward her in surprise when she immediately reached down and opened the door. He had been sure she’d just come clean. Instead, she climbed wordlessly from the warm cab of his truck and that irked him even more than her lying. It was cold and dark and she was obviously hurting from some unknown injury. He stared straight ahead, contemplating leaving her ass on the side of the road even knowing his animal wouldn’t permit it. His head snapped to the side when, from the corner of his eye, he saw her go down. One second she’d been standing there, and the next she was on her knees.
Christ! Chance hurried out his door, hustling around to find her still on the ground. The scent of her pain had intensified and she winced as she tried to struggle to her feet.
“Damn it, woman! Where are you hurt?” he demanded angrily.
“My feet,” she breathed. “I’ve been walking a long time. My feet are in pretty bad shape.”
Without another word he lifted her, settling her back in the passenger seat before reaching across to buckle her in. She inhaled sharply when his body brushed up against hers. He ignored it, pulling back to hurry around to the driver’s side, and in a blink, they were driving again. He cast her a few glances, but she was back to hiding behind her hair, her face turned away from him again. “We’re almost to my place. We’ll get you taken care of soon.”
She only nodded.
“What’s your name?”
She took so long to respond that at first he didn’t think she was going to answer. Finally, she whispered, “Isabelle.” Funny thing, he wasn’t sure if it was the way she said it or the fact that he’d never known anyone with the name before, but something about it rang with femininity. He thought it was a beautiful name. He guessed she would be considered a beautiful woman as well, but he couldn’t really tell. When she’d looked at him earlier, he’d been too caught up in the color of her eyes to really look at the rest of her face and now, she kept hiding from him. That was irksome too. Here he was being a good fucking guy and trying to help her ass out, but all she could do was lie and hide.
“What’s your story?” he ground out impatiently.
“I don’t… What do you mean?”
His annoyance was growing by the moment, because his fucking wolverine was clawing at his middle wanting something from him, but he wasn’t sure what. He’d shifted that morning, so that wasn’t it, and it didn’t feel like his beast was trying to break free. No, something else was going on. His nostrils flared as he tried to calm himself, but the scent of Isabelle’s pain made him roll his head on his shoulders in agitation. When her stomach growled and she tried to quiet it with a hand, he lost it. “Why in the hell haven’t you taken better care of yourself? I mean what are you even doing out here? Walking the road in the middle of the night, in the middle of a snow storm! Seems pretty fucking stupid!”
****
God, she hated men like him! Thought they knew everything and threw their words around like punches. She had a right mind to tell him to pull over so she could get out, but honestly, her feet couldn’t take any more abuse. That made it worse, because he was right. She had no business being out in this weather, trying to relocate and change her life mid snow storm, but it was her only option. She’d be damned if she told him that though. No, she’d wait until they got to his place, thank him kindly, and then head out from there. She’d just liberated herself from an overbearing, abusive man, and she’d be damned if she spent her first free night in the company of another. “Don’t call me that,” she said, more quietly than she’d intended. She was looking at him now, because if he planned on hitting her, she wanted to see it coming. He didn’t though. Instead, his nostrils flared in that funny way he kept doing, like he was trying to smell her.
Suddenly his brows snapped down and he growled, “Christ! I ain’t gonna hurt you, lady.”
Damn right he wasn’t. She lifted her backpack off the floor where it’d been resting between her feet and settled it on her lap, hugging it tightly to her, one hand resting on the front pocket where she kept her little thirty-eight pistol.
The guy blew out a pent-up breath and offered, “I shouldn’t have said that. I apologize. I wasn’t calling you stupid. I was saying your predicament is…foolish.”
“It’s not what I intended,” she responded. “Sometimes things just don’t work out the way you hope.” And wasn’t that the truth? She’d met Zeke online and they’d chatted for a year before he persuaded her to move the few states between them to get from Montana to Nevada. Things had been okay at first, but little things had set off warning bells from the time she’d arrived. Things like Zeke expecting her to pay for everything. Hell, it was his apartment, and more often than not, he asked her to pay the rent because he was ‘in a rough spot’. She wound up working three jobs, just to be able to help out, and if that wasn’t bad enough, Zeke also expected her to do all the cooking and cleaning. Honestly, she was exhausted. For the past six months, she’d done everything in her power to make things work, but when she wasn’t working she was cooking and keeping their place clean. He didn’t want a girlfriend or a wife. He wanted a mommy. He wanted to be taken care of, and when she’d confronted him, he didn’t even hesitate before he hit her. It was like he’d been waiting for it, waiting for her to confront him. Like the typical cliché, he apologized and tried to convince her that she’d forced his hand and made him react the way he had. She didn’t buy that shit. That night when he went to bed, she packed her bag and left. Hell, she’d even left the car they’d bought together. Like a fucking idiot, she’d let him convince her to put it in his name, because she wasn’t yet a resident of the state and couldn’t get it registered under her name. She wasn’t willing to take the chance that he’d let her have the vehicle without calling and reporting it stolen. She could just imagine what would happen if his police buddies picked her up for stealing his car. So, she bought a bus ticket back to Montana and walked out of his life for good. The bus only took her to the small town of Big Sandy though, and the only family she had was an aunt who lived on the Rocky Boy reservation, sixteen miles from the bus stop. Her aunt was old school. No TV, no phone. She did have a truck, and she would have picked Isabelle up in town if Isabelle had had a way to get ahold of her. As it was, she’d wound up walking after hitchhiking was unsuccessful. The storm had come upon her fast, and she’d actually been really frantic about what she was going to do until ol’ Grumpy Gus in the driver’s seat showed up. Honestly, she was grateful as hell, because her feet hurt just sitting here and she still had so far to go.
“I was heading to my aunt’s house,” she offered quietly. She was reluctant to tell him that Aunty Ruby lived on the reservation though, because lots of people in Montana were prejudiced where the Native population was concerned.
“Well, you can call her when you get to my place, let her know you’re okay and where you’re at.”
“She doesn’t have a phone.”
He snorted, smirking like he wasn’t surprised. “Yeah, I wouldn’t have one either except I do some work for local ranchers and they need a way to get ahold of me.”
“What kind of work?”
“Predator control.”
Her head whipped around so she could frown at him. “You kill animals?” Oh God, she was liking this man less and less.
“Didn’t say that. I said predator control. Mostly chasing stuff off and making sure they don’t come back. Relocation when necessary.”
“Oh.”
He turned up a mountain road and she liked that it looked eerily similar to where her Aunt lived. Back roads like these would scare a city girl, but she’d been raised all Montanan.
“Name’s Chance, by the way. Just in case you were wondering.”
Again, his words felt like an admonishment. Sure, he was right, and she should have asked, but she hadn’t expected to spend as much time with him as she had.
A rustic looking cabin came into sight, and she shivered at how warm and inviting it looked. The golden glow of light filtered out through the curtained windows, reminding her of melting butter on hot cereal. Her stomach grumbled again, and she cursed herself for not getting more jerky at the little shop in the bus depot.
Chance pulled his truck to a stop and put the vehicle in park. “Stay where you are. I’ll come around and help.”
Isabelle worried her bottom lip as nerves suddenly flitted to life, thinking of how she was going to tell him that she wasn’t staying. She watched him bound up the three steps of his porch and use his key to open the door before leaving it wide and turning back to hurry to the passenger side. He pulled the door open and was reaching for her when she stammered, “Um…I, uh. I’m just gonna head on out. Thanks for the invite, and the attempted ride to my aunt’s. Sorry for any inconvenie…” Her words broke off when he chuffed a snort and picked her up like she weighed nothing. His booted foot kicked the truck door closed, and then he was hustling her up the stairs and into his cabin.