Under these icy conditions, its steep surface could be too slippery for the truck to back out.
She stopped the vehicle, pulled the hand brake, and shifted into neutral, with the engine still idling. Surely, the old pickup would have four-wheel drive. Tori searched on and under the dashboard, but couldn’t find any way to switch it over. All she could do was try to back out.
With a muttered prayer she shifted into reverse, released the hand brake, and floored the gas pedal. The engine roared. The worn tires spun on the slick ice. But the truck didn’t move.
She slumped over the wheel, collecting her thoughts. The only option left was to keep going down the farm road and hope it led to someplace where she could find shelter.
Taking a deep breath, she drove slowly forward. Beyond the reach of the truck’s headlights, the road descended into a black fog. Between the storm and the clouded windshield, Tori was driving almost blind. She didn’t see the electric wire fence and the bulky forms of cattle on the far side of it until she was about to crash into it.
Swallowing a scream, she slammed her foot on the brake. The truck fishtailed and skidded to a stop, inches from the fence.
The engine had died. Shaking, Tori turned off the ignition and pulled the hand brake. She couldn’t go forward; she couldn’t back up; she’d be a fool to get out of the truck in the storm. She wasn’t going anywhere. It was time to find her phone and call for help.
She’d tossed her purse into the backseat with Erin’s suitcase. Hooking the strap with her finger, she dragged the purse into the front and fished out her cell phone. The display screen showed a low-battery signal. Tori muttered an unladylike curse. She usually plugged in the phone when she went to bed, but it was too late for that now, and she’d left her car charger in her station wagon.
If I could just reach one person . . .
Mentally crossing her fingers, she scrolled to Will’s number and pressed call. Her heart sank as she counted the rings. No answer. When his voice message came on, she spoke rapidly. “Will, I’m stuck off the road in the storm, somewhere past—”
She broke off in midsentence. Her phone had gone dark.
* * *
Will had gone to bed early in the hope of getting some needed rest. But between the storm outside and the worry demons in his head, sleep was impossible. Around ten-thirty, he rolled out of bed, dressed, and took a moment to look in on Erin. Then, shrugging into his sheepskin coat, he went out to his truck.
Icy sleet spattered the pickup as he drove the back roads of the Rimrock, using his powerful spotlight to check every fence, every pasture where the cattle were gathered. Not that he could do much if any of them were in trouble. That would have to wait for daylight. But every animal was precious. In terms of hard cash, the death of any cow, calf, or steer would mean a two-thousand-dollar loss to the ranch.
The crews had done all they could to protect the cattle against cold and wind. But in an open pasture, there wasn’t much that could be done about lightning. As a boy Will had seen what one lightning strike could do to a closely packed herd. The memory of those charred, swollen bodies would haunt his nightmares for the rest of his life.
There’d been lightning strikes, dangerously close, as the storm front moved through. Dawn would tell if the lightning had done any damage. Tonight there was nothing he could do.
He was turning around to go back to the house when the spotlight caught a movement along the fence. Driving closer, Will saw that one of the spring calves, probably panicked by the storm, had run headlong into the fence and become caught in the wire. Unless it was cut loose, the young animal wouldn’t last till morning. Turning up his collar, Will climbed out in the icy downpour and hauled his toolbox out of the back of the truck. He got a rope as well. If the six-hundred-pound calf tried to fight him, he’d need a way to control it. Maybe he ought to call the bunkhouse for some help. But he remembered then that he’d left his cell phone on the nightstand by the bed. He was on his own.
Fortunately for him, the calf had worn itself out struggling