Hot Cowboy Nights (Lucky Penny Ranch #2)(39)

“I hope you are right because if he did do this I’m going to pray that God kills all of his goats,” Lizzy said. “Where is that blanket? We can use it for a pillow.”

The toolbox popped right open and he brought out a zippered bag with a thick red blanket in it. In a few minutes they were side-by-side, bodies touching and sharing a rolled-up blanket for a pillow.

“Why did you have this tucked away in a toolbox?” she asked.

“My mama gave it to me for Christmas and I forgot to put it in the trailer when I moved up here. She found it just as I was about to leave, and I put it in the toolbox because there wasn’t any room in the truck. Fate blessed us, I guess.” He slipped an arm under her and pulled her closely to his side. “If we don’t huddle up, the pillow will be too small for us both to use.”

Lizzy had a choice. Either be able to sleep but wake up with a sore neck, or lay awake wanting what she knew she couldn’t have but at least be semi-comfortable. She chose to stay cuddled up next to him. His big strong body made her forget all about the fact that they were trapped in a deep ravine with milk chocolate–colored water flowing all around them. Strong arms held her close and his chest made a wonderful pillow. She wiggled in a little closer into his warmth, feeling safe and happy as she drifted off to sleep.



The sun was peeking over the eastern horizon when she awoke the next morning, surprised that she’d slept with no hint of dreams. “Hey, anybody in there?” A deep voice yelled at the same time a rock hit the side of the truck. “If y’all is alive, raise up and answer me.”

Lizzy braced herself, peeked over the truck bed at an elderly man squatting on the other side of a barbed wire fence at the other edge of the gully. “We’re fine. Do you have a phone?”

“Back at the house. This gall-durned thing the kids bought me to carry around in my pocket ain’t worth a damn since the tornado swept through here. Want me to call someone for you?” The man was a short little fellow with a crop of curly gray hair and deep wrinkles. “Good thing y’all didn’t try to wade that water to find help. I ain’t never seen Miller Creek rushin’ like that. You would have drowned for sure if you’d tried to follow the creek, and there ain’t no way you could have scaled them banks, muddy as they are.”

Lizzy nodded. “I figured that much. We sure would appreciate it if you’d make a call for us.”

Toby sat up and waved at the guy. “Please get in touch with Blake Dawson at the Lucky Penny Ranch. Got something to write with?”

“Sure I do. Never leave the house without a pencil and some paper these days or I forget what it is I’m supposed to do. Wife says the whiskey has eat my brain up. Don’t know if she is right, but it was good whiskey so I ain’t complainin’.” He took a stubby pencil and a small notepad from the bibbed pocket of his overalls.

Toby gave him the number. “Thank you so much. We really appreciate your help. I don’t think we can get out of here on our own.”

“You’re right welcome, young man, and you’re right. You got to have some help. My tractor is down or I’d drive it around and see if I could pull you up.” He wrote down the number and shoved the notepad back into his pocket. “I heard tell that half a dozen septic tanks up the road is overflowed with all the rain we got and that’s what you are sittin’ in. So y’all just sit real tight and I’ll call this here number for you.” He slapped the bull on the butt, got on a four–wheeler, and disappeared down a path.

“Good mornin’,” Toby said. “Ready for my morning-after breakfast?”

“Allie told me about that little send-off that you do for the women you pick up. Is that to appease your conscience? Give them something since they gave you something?” she asked.

“Share something with them because we shared something is the way I like to think of it.” He raked his fingers through his hair but it didn’t downplay his sexiness; if anything the dark stubble on his face, the sleep still in his eyes, and the wrinkled clothes made him even hotter.

“Changing subject here,” she said. “How long do you think it will be before Blake gets here?”

“Depends on whether our new forgetful friend remembers that he has a phone number or if his wife finds it when she empties his pockets to wash those overalls next week,” Toby answered. “I’ll share my tacos for breakfast since I can’t make biscuits and sausage gravy for you.”

“They’ve been sitting out all night. They’re probably soggy and we’ll get sick if we eat them anyway. I’ll wait until we get home to eat. Besides now that the rancher told us where part of that water is coming from, it smells bad.”

She changed her mind when he removed the paper wrapper from the taco and the morning breeze wafted the taco aroma straight to her nose. “Give me one of those things. I’d rather spend a day in the bathroom with food poisoning as starve to death. At least it will give me strength to walk home this morning.”

“The aroma of what we’re surrounded by…” he started.

She put a finger over his lips. “I’m pretending it’s the bull over there in the pasture that I smell.”

He grinned. “Two for you and two for me and then we can share your burger, right?”

“Just give me my tacos and you can have the burger if you like soggy lettuce and buns.” She reached out her hand and he put two tacos in it.