Chapter One
Aftyn’s eyes snapped to the dashboard as the amber check engine light blinked on. She muttered a curse. The engine’s cough had turned into a harsh, grating rasp, and wisps of steam were already curling from beneath the hood. She’d pushed it too far.
She eased the car onto the gravel shoulder and killed the ignition. Outside, the midday heat hit her like an open oven. The road stretched in both directions, empty and shimmering, not a house or passing car in sight. Just scorched fields the color of old straw and a wooden rail fence running parallel to the road.
“That must be someone’s place,” she murmured, though the words felt small against all that silence.
She grabbed her wallet, tucked her purse under the passenger seat, and locked the car. Wallet in her back pocket, fob in her front. She approached the fence and peered across. Nothing but cracked, dry earth baking under the sun. A weathered no-trespassing sign stared back at her.
She hesitated. Then hoisted herself over.
Each step forward brought the sun beating harder on her shoulders. She trudged on; the sky a white dome of relentless light, telling herself she’d walk just a little farther. Surely someone would appear. A ranch hand, a farmer, anyone.
Ten minutes later she stopped.
A dark shape grazed in the distance, and relief moved through her chest. Livestock. Maybe a farmhouse nearby. But as she drew closer the relief died. It wasn’t a cow. It was a bull, massive and still, its horns sweeping outward like curved blades, its black eyesalready fixed on her.
“Oh, boy,” she whispered.
The bull pawed the earth. Dust bloomed and drifted. It snorted once, low and deliberate.
She took a step back. Then another. Then she spun and ran.
Her lungs burned. The hooves hit the ground behind her like hammer blows, each one closer than the last, and she screamed, raw and ragged, certain she was about to feel the impact.
A horse burst into view, rider and animal silhouetted against the glaring sun. In one motion the man leaned down, caught her outstretched arm, and swung her up behind him. She locked her arms around his waist and held on. The horse stretched into a full run, then launched over the fence in a clean arc and landed hard on the other side.
The rider slowed, set her on her feet, and dismounted.
She turned to face him. He stood with the sun at his back, cowboy hat throwing his jaw into shadow, mirrored aviators giving nothing away. Dust still hung in the air around his worn chaps and scuffed boots. He planted his hands on his hips.
“Are you out of your fucking mind?” he said.
Aftyn straightened her blouse and brushed a bead of sweat from her forehead. Her own reflection stared back at her from his sunglasses.
“Watch your language,” she said.
His jaw dropped, then snapped shut. He shook his head, drew a breath, squared his shoulders.
“Watch my language? You could have been impaled. What the fu—hell are you doing in my pasture? You’re damn lucky I was out here.”
She looked past him at the bull, which stood at the fence line, still watching her. “Can that bull get through?”
“He’s a steer. And no.” He crossed his arms. “Now answer my question.”
Aftyn turned and stared at him. His dark hair brushed the collar of his snug T-shirt, framing features that were rugged and unapologetically masculine. Her gaze traveled down his frame. The shirt clung to broad shoulders, sculpted arms, and a flat stomach. His worn leather chaps hugged his legs in a way that made her mouth go dry. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been with a man, and this one was undeniably smoldering. She fought the overwhelming urge to rip off those sunglasses, though seeing her own reflection staring back was a sharp reminder of exactly what kind of mess she was currently in.
She took a deep breath and explained about the car.
“You knew it was overheating and kept driving?” he said, his tone edged with disbelief.
“I had no choice,” she shot back.
“Of course you did. Pull over and shut it off before the motor locks up.”
“I did! That’s why I’m out here looking for help.”
“You should have stayed with your vehicle. Instead, you decided to take a stroll through a pasture with a pissed-off steer and a no trespassing sign.”
