My Kind of Christmas (The Christmas Tree Ranch #1)(36)

Gearing down, he kept his speed at a steady twenty miles an hour. Progress was slow, but it was better than sliding off the road and getting stuck.

He remembered his premonition on the way here, the feeling that something was about to happen. If that “something” had meant finally getting on solid ground with Maggie, he would never complain again. That smart, sexy woman could be the best thing that had ever happened to him. Now, if he could just make his business plans work out, he’d be on top of the world.

Along Main Street, the lights gleamed on the icy white surface of the road. There was no traffic at this hour, but he stopped at the red lights anyway. Old habits died hard, even when a stop meant easing to a halt by tapping the brake to avoid a skid, then rolling forward until he gained enough traction to pick up speed again.

Ahead, he could see the last stoplight, where Main Street intersected with the highway. After that, the going would be easier—and he was in luck. This light was green. He pressed the gas pedal, just enough to give him a little more speed. He would barely make it.

The light turned yellow as he passed under the signal. He was just easing into the left turn when a pair of high-beam headlights almost blinded him. In the same instant, a huge, dark shape hurtled out of the darkness and slammed into the right side of the pickup, crumpling it inward like an empty soda can.

Anchored in place by his seat belt, Travis was flung to one side by the impact, but in the seconds it took for the shock to wear off, he realized he wasn’t hurt. However, from the way the far side of the truck was stove in, he would guess that the old Ford was totaled.

His trooper instincts kicked in. Somebody was in the other vehicle—somebody who might be injured and need help.

The frame had bent around the driver’s side door, but Travis managed to kick it open. Jumping to the ground, he ran around to the other side of the truck. That was when he saw what had hit him.

Even in the dark, it wasn’t hard to recognize the hulking outline of a black Hummer h1 Alpha.

The big off-road vehicle was built like a tank. The heavy grille bar on the front end, which had crushed the pickup, had protected the Hummer, which wasn’t likely even scratched.

But right now, that wasn’t his concern.

Sprinting to the driver’s side of the Hummer, Travis flung the door open. The man in the driver’s seat was rubbing his head, looking confused.

“Are you all right?” Travis demanded.

“I . . . think so.”

“Is anybody else in the vehicle?”

“No. Just me. You sound like a cop. Are you?”

“Nope. Here, let me help you out. You might have trouble standing.” Travis offered an arm to balance the man as he slid off the seat and dropped to the ground. Standing in the faint glow of the street light, he was a little taller than Travis, close to him in age, with rumpled dark hair. A small gash on his forehead was oozing blood. Travis offered him a clean handkerchief to press on the wound.

“What the hell happened?” He glanced around, a confused expression on his face.

“You were in an accident.” Travis’s brain had clicked into the detachment mode that had enabled him to survive as a highway trooper. It was still sinking in that this man’s driving had destroyed his truck and, except for some lucky timing, could have killed him.

“Accident?” He blinked as if trying to rouse himself.

“Your vehicle ran a red light and hit my truck,” Travis said. “Take a look.”

“What?” He turned around and saw the damage, which seemed to shock him to his senses. He turned slowly back to face Travis. “Oh, hell, I’m sorry,” he muttered. “I remember now. I saw the light and slammed on the brakes, but I couldn’t stop. I slid right into you. Must’ve hit my head. Don’t worry, I’ve got insurance. I can get you my card—”

“Thanks.” Travis was still in cop mode. “Don’t you know better than to hit the brakes on an icy road? That’ll send you into a skid every time. And you need to put that Hummer in four-wheel drive. I know they’ve got it.”

“Sorry. I’m from Phoenix. We don’t have slick roads there.”

“Phoenix?” Travis shook his head. “That explains a lot. If you’d been going any faster, we might not be talking right now.”

The stranger frowned and fumbled for his wallet. “I’ll get you my insurance information. But first, I’ve got one question.”

“What’s that?”

His bewildered gaze swept from the hail-slicked ground to the traffic signal, which continued to change. “Where in hell’s name am I?”

“You don’t know?”

“I haven’t got the foggiest idea.”

“This is Branding Iron, Texas. Does that ring a bell?”

He shook his head. “Never heard of it. I was headed for Fort Worth. Must’ve taken a wrong turn somewhere.” He surveyed the wreck again. “Shouldn’t we call the police or something?”

“In this town, a policeman would just have to get up in the middle of the night and give you a ticket. Nobody’s badly hurt, and you’ve offered your insurance information. If you’ll give it to me and help me push my truck off the road, I’ll make a call and report the accident in the morning.”

“Thanks.” He slipped two cards out of his wallet and handed them to Travis. One was a policy card from a well-known insurance company. The other was a business card. “Keep them. I’ve got extras,” he said.