Riding the storm - By Julie Miller Page 0,18

was convincing enough to alleviate her concern and get her focused on something besides his shortcomings. Good.

“Me, too.” Jolene shifted the truck into drive. “I mean, Dad would have called us with an update if there was any change in Lily’s condition. But we should still get there as soon as we can.”

“Agreed.” Nate stared out the window. The sky was turning grayer by the minute.

“And we won’t tell Dad about banging up my truck, okay? Since neither of us was hurt, and the truck still runs, I don’t see any need to report it. He’ll find out soon enough, and he worries about me too much as it is.”

Was it any wonder? But Nate nodded his agreement. Mitch had more than enough to handle today. Keeping Jolene out of trouble might be the best thing he could do to help her father. “That’s your call.”

“Yes, it is.” He glanced over at the sharp tone in her voice. But he suspected it had more to do with the worsening weather conditions than with him. The quick smile she spared him went a long way toward lightening his mood. “But thanks, anyway.”

He supposed keeping a secret was one small thing she’d let him do for her. “No problem.”

Jolene flipped the windshield wipers up to high and pressed on the accelerator, taking them along the soggy road at a saner speed. Though he could tell she was concentrating hard to steer the misaligned truck over the challenging terrain, nothing seemed able to stop her mouth. “I’m sorry if I hit a nerve,” she apologized. “I mean that figuratively, not literally. Unless I did hit a nerve, and that’s why your knee hurts—”

“Just drive.”

They jostled along for another half mile. “So what was it?” she asked.

“What was what?” Man, she liked to talk. About as fast as she liked to drive.

“What happened to your leg? You don’t look big enough for football. Was it a surfing accident? Skate-boarding? Tripping over a star in Hollywood?”

Actually it had been one son of a bitch bull that hadn’t taken a shine to rodeo life, being ridden, or Nate. Tossing his rider to the ground before his eight seconds were up hadn’t been enough payback. And though Nate’s memories were a little fuzzy after seeing a thousand plus pounds of angry bull charging him, when he woke up in the ambulance, he’d been quite clear about the fact his college rodeo scholarship and planned career as a professional bull rider were over.

Hollywood star? Yeah, right. “You’ve got some serious misconceptions about California.”

“I know all I need to about the Golden State.” Now there was a cryptic statement. “So what about your leg?”

They bounced over to the left side of the road to avoid a pool of water standing in a washout. As they eased back over the stubby weeds in the middle, he caught a glimpse of something cream-colored dashing into the road.

The inquisition was forgotten. Nate grabbed the dash and leaned forward. “What’s that?”

“I see it.”

Jolene slowed the truck. Despite the reflective wall of rain in front of them, she turned on the headlights to give them a better look.

Too big to be a coyote. Too small to be a horse. Dancing back and forth too quickly to be a vehicle of any kind.

Jolene slammed on the brakes the instant the object came into focus. “Oh, my God!”

“What the hell?”

Crazy Texans.

Arms waved as the figure jumped up and down, a long filmy cloth slapping against bare shoulders with every jump. Nate cracked open his window. He could hear the shouting now. A blonde woman in a wedding gown and veil was out in the middle of the road, flagging them down.

“Help! Stop! Please! Oh, thank God.” She glanced over her shoulder toward a stand of tall, dead brown grass in the ditch behind her. “Wes!”

She looked barely old enough to have graduated from high school. The would-be, runaway—or on her way to a costume party—bride hiked up her limp skirt and dashed toward the truck.

Nate glanced across the seat as she approached. “A friend of yours?”

He was thinking along the lines of impulsive soul mate, but Jolene shook her head. “I don’t recognize her. She’s not from Turning Point.”

The bedraggled bride ran straight for the driver’s side of the vehicle. Hell. Instead of just rolling down her window to talk, Jolene was already climbing out. With a resolute sigh, Nate pulled his cap low on his forehead and opened his door.

“Hey, you okay?” Jolene squeezed the