Her Christmas Cowboy (The Wyoming Cowboy #5) - Jessica Clare Page 0,10

to Painted Barrel in the darkness. Today was a much better day than yesterday.

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* * *

At least, Amy’s day was better for about half an hour.

Halfway back to Painted Barrel, with the distance equally far back to Casper, her car sputtered. She coasted to the side of the road as the lights died out and everything just went . . . dead.

She allowed herself to panic. Just a little, as she sat in the darkness. Cars didn’t just die like that because it was cold, did they? Something else had to be wrong, and she wasn’t close to anything at all. There wasn’t a nearby gas station or even a rest stop. There was nothing on this stretch of road and the cars that passed weren’t nearly as plentiful as she wanted them to be. This was fine, though. She’d figure this out. With that thought in her head, she closed her eyes and calmly turned the key in the ignition.

Nothing happened. The car didn’t respond.

Amy sucked in a shuddering breath, then popped the hood of the car. She got out, wincing at the bitterly cold air, and clutched her jacket closer to her body. She lifted the hood and peered down at the dark engine, because it felt like something she should do, as a capable person. She had no idea what she was looking at, though, and gazing down into the shadows at a bunch of mechanical parts made the bubbling despair she was trying to fight rise to the surface anyhow.

She was . . . stranded.

She had no idea what to do now. What did one do when a car stopped? If she were back in Houston—and still Amy Mckinney Todd, wife of Blake Todd, high-powered entrepreneur—she’d call her husband, knowing full well that he’d chastise her like she was a child. But he’d take care of it. He’d taken care of everything. He’d controlled everything.

Without that rigid, smothering control, she felt free. She also felt completely out of her depth when it came to situations like this, though. What did people do when their cars broke down? She hurried back into the driver’s seat as a lone car whizzed past and climbed inside the relative warmth of the cab. It was going to get cold fast if her car didn’t have power. She could freeze to death, all because she didn’t know what to do now.

God, how Blake would laugh at her “independence,” that asshole.

She drew a calming breath. Anger at Blake always galvanized her. Hadn’t he smirked all through their divorce proceedings? Told her she’d be utterly helpless and she’d come crawling back, begging for him to help her. If nothing else in life, she was going to succeed, by golly, just to prove him wrong. Amy pulled out her phone and began to google.

Okay, she could call a tow truck.

Except . . . she didn’t have the money for something like that. All she had was the little bit of cash from pawning her jewelry, and she’d been hoping to use it for groceries for herself—and her new friend, Donner—this week.

Oh no. Poor Donner. He was all alone at her house and probably worried. Did dogs get worried? She thought of the dirty, disheveled collie and hoped he was okay. All right, for Donner’s sake, she had to get home.

So she went down her list of contacts in her phone instead. Lisa—the high school teacher—didn’t have her car at night because she shared with her husband. Jenny—another elementary teacher—had a boyfriend in Ten Sleep who she visited on the weekends. Royce—the principal—didn’t answer when she called, and neither did his secretary (and wife) Elizabeth.

She went down her tiny list of friends, panicking. Layla didn’t pick up and her phone went to voicemail. Becca—her friend and the local beautician—was out with her new husband tonight. She couldn’t call her and interrupt her date, not when she knew that Becca had one of her husband’s brothers babysitting for her.

Greg! Her landlord. He was nice enough, wasn’t he? And he was always asking her out on a date. She dialed him quickly, her heart pounding. If he came and saved her, she’d absolutely go out with him on a date—

The phone went immediately to voicemail. Not even one ring.

Frowning, she tried again. Same thing.

He was ignoring her calls. So much for him having a “guy” to come fix things. Now he was just flat-out ignoring her. Amy choked on a horrified laugh. At least she