Mary Baxter - Lightning Strikes

36 hours that changed everything…

As a devastating summer storm rages in Grand Springs, Colorado, the mayor’s life hangs in the balance. A bride flees her own wedding, pursued by mysterious gunmen. A mudslide traps a girl in a cave. And a stranger walks into town with no memory of his name or his past.

In the hospital’s E.R., Doctor Noah Howell has always put others first. But now, in the midst of the chaos, he decides to go for what he’s always wanted—Amanda Jennings.

Book 1 of the 36 Hours series. Don’t miss Book 2: Opposites attract when a mudslide traps Sean and Cassandra in her car in Strange Bedfellows by Kasey Michaels.

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Eight

About the Author

The man behind the wheel muttered an expletive. He couldn’t see a damn thing. He’d never in his life seen rain like this, and he wasn’t all that young. More to the point, he’d sure never tried to drive through it. If he didn’t know better, he’d think it was the end of the world. A smirk twisted his lips in his lean face. Hell, for all he knew, maybe it was.

He took in a deep breath, trying to settle his growing apprehension. His plight wouldn’t be so bad if he weren’t on a mountain road. But he was. The sensible thing would be to pull over and wait out the torrential downpour. If he knew it would stop soon, he wouldn’t hesitate to do that.

Unfortunately, he didn’t have that guarantee, and even if he did, he doubted he’d actually stop. He had to reach Grand Springs. In fact, he felt a driving urgency he hadn’t experienced in a long time. It had been that phone call he’d received. What could “Her Honor,” the mayor of Grand Springs, Colorado, want? He had no idea, but the frantic note in her voice had gotten to him. Without wasting any time, he’d jumped into his car.

He paused in his thoughts and gripped the steering wheel harder. His worst fear was that he’d hit a puddle of water just right and hydroplane into another car. He glanced in his rearview mirror and both side mirrors. For the moment, it appeared he was the only vehicle on this road high in the Colorado mountains.

Fool or idiot.

He didn’t know which word most aptly described him. It didn’t matter. He was on the road, and he had to deal with the situation as best he could.

At least he had his radio and could keep abreast of the worsening weather, he assured himself. Reaching for the knob, he turned up the volume, only to jump when a mass of static blared back at him. He cursed again, just as the sound came through the speakers clearly.

He listened to the newscaster’s deep voice warn that if this heavy rain continued, a new rainfall record would be set.

“Really…” he muttered, dodging as lightning came at him from every side, convinced it could reach through the glass and wreak a personal vengeance on him.

Frustration gnawed at him as he was forced to slow his car even more. Hell, he was already crawling at a snail’s pace. Surely the rain had to let up. Fate cut him no slack—lightning continued to crackle nearby, followed by the loudest booms of thunder he’d ever heard.

Suddenly, he flinched again in awe of such a horrific twist of nature. But that awe didn’t last long. It turned once more into impatient anger as the rain slashed against his windshield along with the wipers.

Pull over, he told himself savagely. But he didn’t. Inching down the highway, he didn’t know how long he held this pattern, his mind consumed with keeping the car on the road. Then miraculously the rain slackened, and, though he had to squint, he could see a short distance ahead.

Taking advantage of the reprieve, he increased his speed to make up for lost time. His mind raced. What could Olivia want? he asked himself, recalling the desperation coloring her voice. It wasn’t as if…

He never got any further. An odd but unidentifiable sound chopped off his thoughts. Jerking his head to his right, he saw mud barreling down the hillside straight toward him.

“Oh, God, no!” he cried, only his plea for mercy was too late.

Before he could so much as turn the wheel, mud slammed into the side of his vehicle, sending it careering into the guardrail.

He braced himself for the final impact. His head jerked like a flower on a broken stem, and his temple banged against the side of the window. The last thing he remembered was the sickening blackness that swallowed him.

* * *

An ongoing sickening feeling brought him slowly to the surface of wakefulness. His head pounded as if he’d been beaten to a pulp. Glancing around at the car interior and the view through the windshield, he was struck by the fact nothing seemed familiar. He couldn’t remember a damn thing.

Where was he? Who was he?

Stumbling out of the car into the blinding deluge, the man stood for the longest time, hoping that the cold, stinging rain pelting his face would revive his memory. But only a blank hole remained where his memory should have been.

With no idea what to do next, he started walking.

What a horrible night for a wedding. But then, as far as Noah Howell was concerned, there were no good nights for such an event.

He cut his blue eyes toward a window and watched as the rain slapped against the pane, followed by bolts of lightning and mean cracks of thunder. What the hell was going on? Like most cities, Grand Springs had its share of springtime rains, but this was a bit much.

Weather of such a magnitude bred only one thing: trouble. In fact, during storms, people tended to go a little crazy. He ought to know. As a surgeon, he’d spent countless hours patching maimed bodies from accidents of all kinds. Why the hell didn’t folks use common sense and stay home under these conditions?

Noah smiled but with no humor. Who was he to criticize? Hell, he wasn’t home. He was at Squaw Creek Lodge, nestled high in the mountains, ready to walk his sister, Randi, down the aisle. What blew his mind even more was that the ballroom, which had been turned into a makeshift chapel, was filled with people.

Frowning, Noah focused his attention on the guests, who were smiling and chattering with one another as though Mother Nature wasn’t raising hell. He hoped everyone who planned to attend was already there because the weather was worsening. Besides, the zero hour was only minutes away.

Though the lodge was famous for its rustic atmosphere, the wedding area had been spectacularly transformed by the flowers and candles arranged in a simple but classy style.

But no wonder, considering that his mother, Melissa, had great expectations for Randi, who was marrying “up,” as Melissa was fond of bragging. Hal Stuart, the groom, was a city councilman and his mother was the mayor.

No big deal, Noah thought, as far as he was concerned, anyway. City official or not, Hal put his pants on one leg at a time like any other man. Noah smiled, again with no warmth. Too bad his mother didn’t see Hal as an ordinary man. Hell, when he came around, she thought the waters should part.