Joanna Wayne - Showdown at Shadow Junction

Struggling to calm herself with empty reassurances, she willed her feet to start walking in the opposite direction. Without slowing, she glanced over her shoulder. The men were only a few feet behind her and closing the space between them.

“Hey, lady,” one of them called, waving to her.

She picked up her pace, practically running through the crowded airport. She turned a corner and ran smack into a man pulling a carry-on bag. He grabbed her arm to steady her.

She threw her arms around the man’s neck and greeted him like a lover who’d just come home from a long war.

* * *

BOOKER STOOD THERE, too stunned to react to the stranger’s kiss—for a half second. He figured the stranger had mistaken him for someone else, but that wasn’t his fault. He threw himself into the kiss.

“I think you may have the wrong man, but I’m not complaining,” he said when her lips left his.

“Play along with me,” she said. “Act like we’re together. I’ll explain later.”

“Works for me.” What didn’t work was the fear reflected in her gorgeous green eyes or the nervous way she kept glancing over her shoulder.

“I’m at your service. Is there someone here you need punched in the nose?”

“No. Start walking,” she said, taking his arm.

“Where are we going?”

“To the taxi stand.”

“How about we just walk over to the Avis counter? I have a car reserved. I’ll drop you wherever you want to go.”

“A ride would be great.” She glanced over her shoulder again.

“Who is it you’re trying to avoid?”

“No one.”

“You’re putting a lot of effort into this to avoid no one.”

“I thought I saw my ex, but I was mistaken.” She stopped walking and looked behind her, then let go of his arm. “You can go ahead with your plans. I’ll be fine now.”

She didn’t sound fine. It didn’t take a brain surgeon to see that she was in trouble and running scared. Even if she hadn’t been a fantastic kisser, he couldn’t have walked away from that.

“Kiss and run is far worse than kiss and tell,” he teased. “You should at least let me thank you for the spectacular welcome by giving you a ride.”

“I’m going to Oak Grove. It’s over an hour’s drive from here.”

“I’ve got nothing better to do.” Not to mention that he was heading in that direction, anyway. “Do you have a name?”

Again, she hesitated way too long to be telling the truth. “Pam.”

“Nice name.” Just not hers, he’d wager.

“Mine’s Booker Knox.”

“Nice to meet you, Booker.”

She stopped glancing over her shoulder as they made the short trek to the rental desk, but she didn’t volunteer any additional information, either. Quiet. Mysterious. She had his curiosity aroused big-time.

Actually that kiss had aroused more than his curiosity.

Fifteen minutes later, they were in the rental and on the interstate. “Are you going to visit family?” he asked.

“Yes, but they live off the beaten path. There’s a service station on the highway near Oak Grove. You can drop me off there. They’ll come and pick me up.”

“Are they expecting you?”

“Of course. They think I’m taking a taxi, but they’ll be waiting for my call. What about you? Where are you going?”

“To a friend’s ranch. My first time there, but from what I hear, it’s a big spread with a rambling old house. I’m sure they can fit you in if you need a place to stay tonight.”

“No, thanks.”

“Are you from Oak Grove?” he asked.

“No.”

“But you have family there.”

“Yes.”

“What’s their name? I bet my friends know them. I hear it’s a really small town.”

“Smith.”

Probably lying again. But why, unless she was worried about him being a pervert? “Am I making you uneasy?”

“A little. I don’t normally accept rides from strangers.”

Yet she’d kissed one in the airport. “Look, Pam, I can assure you I’m trustworthy. I’m a Navy SEAL on leave and in Oak Grove to visit my half sister. You can call her and she’ll vouch for me.”

She shook her head and pushed her ill-fitting glasses back up her nose. “That’s not necessary.”

But she was anxious about something, likely the same situation that had prompted the kiss. Possibly the ex-boyfriend she’d mentioned. Possibly not.

Traffic on the interstate was heavy. He figured the trip was going to take at least an hour and a half, and his stomach was already complaining that it was past dinnertime.

He took the next exit.

Pam, or whatever her name was, turned to face him. “Where are we going?”

“The freeway sign listed several fast-food choices at this exit. I’m starved. You must be, too, if you just got off a plane. A bag of peanuts and a sip or two of soda isn’t very filling.”

“I could use a bite.”

“What’s your choice?” he asked as they pulled off the frontage road and were confronted with a buffet of choices. “Burgers, tacos, fried chicken, barbecue?”

“You pick.”

“It all looks good to me. There was a severe shortage of artery-clogging fast-food joints in the mountainous wilds of Afghanistan.” He pulled into a familiar chain where he knew the burgers were good and the strawberry shakes even better.

He parked and they went inside. “Nothing like the smell of a burger on the grill.” He ordered two half pounders, fries and a large shake. She ordered a salad.

“Kind of defeats the purpose of going to a greasy-food joint if you eat healthy,” he said, hoping a little teasing would help her loosen up enough to talk about what was really going on with her.

“I need to go wash up,” she said.

Booker watched her walk away. Great butt in a pair of well-fitting jeans, but nothing about her quite rang true. Big-rimmed glasses that kept sliding down her nose as if they belonged to a big brother. The ugly black hair was a wig, a cheap one at that. The jeans were new. So was the T-shirt, as evidenced by the price tag hanging out the back of the neckline. New and several sizes too big.

His guess would be that she was running scared from something or someone.

On the run. Damn. What was he thinking?

Booker rushed to the door, almost knocking down a middle-aged woman who was entering as he was leaving. Just as he expected, Miss Mysterious had left through the back door and was already hightailing it down the road.

He jumped in the rental sedan and gunned the engine, sliding into rescue mode with only a minuscule of concern for the fact that he rescuing a woman who didn’t want to be rescued.

He pulled the car to a stop on the shoulder a few feet in front of her. “Get in the car,” he ordered.

She kept walking. Booker threw the gear into Park and jumped out of the rental. He walked over, grabbed her arm and tugged her to a stop.

“I don’t take kindly to being stood up for dinner.”

She met his gaze, her voice low but her eyes shooting fire. “Take your hands off me.”

He did. That settled one thing. She wasn’t running from an abusive lover. If that look was any indication, she’d have made mincemeat of a man who’d gotten out of line with her.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “Let’s start over. My hunch is you’re in some kind of trouble, and my hunches are incredibly accurate. I’d like to help if I can or at least drop you off wherever it is you’re heading. I don’t like the idea of dropping you at a service station.”

“Why?”

“Standing on the side of a road is dangerous.”

“I mean, why are you so insistent on putting yourself out for me?”

“You’re a good kisser.”

“I’m serious, Booker. What’s in this for you?”