Audra Harders - Rocky Mountain Hero

His seat belt already unsnapped, Jason scooted to the edge of the bench seat, taking in the entire mountain scene.

He plastered his nose to the passenger window. “Bet this hill makes a great sledding track in the winter.” He reached across her for the door handle. “Let me out. I want to see how much truck we have left.”

“The truck is fine.” Melanie ruffled his sandy blond hair searching for blood. Satisfied he’d live, she smiled at the long-lost excitement in his eyes. She hoped the interview tomorrow paid off. She wanted more adventure for both of them.

She squeezed his shoulder. “It’ll take more than a bump to keep us down.”

Unbuckling her seat belt, she leaned into the door. Gravity worked against her. She shoved until the door groaned open. Her foot sank ankle deep into the rut. Mud oozed over the top of her boot to her toes.

Jason bumped the door wider. Losing her balance, she rolled off the seat as she wrenched around to grab the door frame. Her other foot slid beneath the truck. With all the grace of a worn-out mattress, Melanie hit the road square on her back and slid a good foot beneath the truck before her boot wedged between a couple rocks. Gravel and water soaked her arms and back. Her bottom sank into the mud, burying her legs.

“You all right?” Jason leaned out and looked around. “You’re a mess.”

“Thanks.” She swiped her hair out of her eyes.

Jason launched over the worst of the puddle and landed on the high spot of the road. He squatted beside the rear axle and examined her like an unfamiliar specimen. “You just needed to jump out farther, Mom.”

“Thanks, Jay. I’ll remember that next time.”

An engine rumbled in the distance. Jason bolted to the middle of the road. “I’ll flag ’em down. Maybe they can pull us off the cliff.”

Melanie squinted over the edge. “It’s not a cliff.”

“Close enough.” Jason waved his arms in the direction of the noise.

“Gabe, look up ahead.”

Gabe Davidson glanced up from his clipboard. His cousin pointed at a pickup truck alongside the road. From where Gabe sat, he would have said the truck wasn’t going anywhere soon. “Don’t recognize it.”

“Can’t say the truck or the kid or the blonde are from around here.” Hank downshifted and slowed.

“Fishtailed right into the rock.” Grooved tracks left ruts inches deep. “The boys from county won’t be happy when they have to come up and fix this.”

The boy waved his arms at them. Hank pulled over and cut the engine.

Gabe checked his watch. The vet closed in half an hour. He fingered the list he’d scribbled on the scrap piece of paper. If he waited until tomorrow, he’d have to take a chance the vet stocked the medication he needed, since no one at the animal clinic was answering their phone, or else double back and drive into Gunnison.

He glanced at the boy, the angle of the truck and the woman wedged partway under the running board. He ground his jaw as uncomplimentary thoughts of Nick and Zac swirled through his head. Times like this, he really wished his brothers were around to help. Propping the clipboard with his list on top of the dash, Gabe shoved at his door. “Let’s go pull ’em out.”

“Hey mister,” the boy called, as he jumped. “I think my mom’s stuck.”

“Are you okay?” Hank took off toward the boy while Gabe headed for the woman. The rock, the crushed front end of the pickup and the entire back end of the vehicle sat perched at an angle. No telling what the truck would do.

“Need help?” Mud covered her from head to toe. Gabe stared into blue eyes the color of mountain columbines in full bloom and lashes as thick as the foxtails that grew around them. Blond hair played across her cheek.

“No, I’ve got it.” The palm of her hand sank up to her wrist.

He bent over and grasped her shoulders, her muscles firm within his palms. A spear of awareness shot through him as he found a grip and began to pull. The mud packed around her like a wallow sucking her hostage. As she began to slide free, she kicked her feet against the embankment.

The road base shifted beneath his feet. His hold tightened. “Be still.”

Her last kick must have hit a rock. She pushed up, relieving the tension in his pull. Momentarily. The rock worked loose beneath her foot and she sank back into place.

Gabe fought for balance as he teetered on the edge. No use. He tucked his shoulders as he rolled into the mud bog with her. His elbow trenched a rut behind her and she slammed up against his chest.

Spitting mud out of her mouth, she smeared her face with her hand. “Oh goodness.” She squirmed to the side. “You okay?”

His hat lay inverted between them, the crown crushed against her ribs. He followed the line of her muddy T-shirt sleeve to her mud-matted ponytail. Her eyes sparkled wide as he drew close. “I told you to stop moving.”

“I could’ve gotten out by myself.” Her breathless voice warmed his cheek.

He swiped his hand down his face, as much to wipe away mud as to break his stare. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

She shimmied up the bank using the top of his boot as a foothold. “The road is in lousy condition.”

“Yeah, well.” Her smooth arm pressed against his chest, making simple thought difficult. “The Gunnison County road crew won’t be happy about this, either.”

She stiffened beside him. “This road is a disaster.”

“Not if your speed is appropriate for the road condition.”

She looked at him as if he’d grown another head. “What’s the speed limit for horrendous?”

Gabe shoved his palm into packed road base. Confrontational wasn’t what he needed right now. Luckily, Hank crouched down beside them before Gabe said something he’d have to apologize for.

“Ma’am, are you all right? Gabe isn’t the daintiest creature to have land in your lap.”

“Hank, get us out.” Gabe needed to move, not make small talk. He leaned over her, caught her waist and pushed her up the side of the rut.

With Hank pulling, she popped out of the ditch and stumbled a good three feet from the truck. Hank offered a hand, and Gabe scrambled out from beneath the truck. Standing beside the muddy mess of a woman, Gabe regretted his moment of anger. Her woebegone look said it all.

“Sorry about getting you dirty.” Her shoulders slumped as she reached out and swiped at his sleeve. “I appreciate the help. Our truck ran into a little problem—”

“Yeah, you should’ve seen it, mister.” The boy ran into the middle of the group. “Mom really carved an arc in the mud!”

Color glowed from beneath the grime on her face. “Jason, shush. We just took the turn a little fast, and, well—” she shrugged in the direction of the truck “—as you can see we’re—”

“Wrecked.” Jason grinned with pride.

She frowned. “I was going to say, ‘stuck.’”

Hank laughed and swept off his hat. “Hank Barrett, at your service, ma’am. I’m the foreman of the Circle D spread just down the road.”

She took a step back and drew Jason beside her, angling her shoulder in front of him. Her protective gesture goaded Gabe even worse for his earlier irritation.

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Barrett. I’m Melanie Hunter and this is my son, Jason.” She nodded toward her crumpled fender and hood. “Any capable mechanics around?”

“We can probably round one up.” The top of her head barely cleared his chin as Gabe took quick stock of her for injury. Wide eyes and sun-pinkened nose didn’t detract from the apprehension in her tight lips. A dripping T-shirt encased her slender frame like shrink wrap around a gasket. Long legs braced; trim arms flexed. A muddy mess, but no blood in sight. “Gabe Davidson. I own the Circle D. You’re not from around here.”