With nothing to defend herself with, she and Rue would be at the mercy of anyone who got inside the vehicle with them.
Carys recited a silent protection prayer she’d learned in religious school as a kid and hoped like hell it would be enough to keep them safe. And then she remembered where she was and what she had. She fumbled her phone, then managed to tap the most recent call.
The second Blaize answered, she said, “Help!”
Chapter Three
The panic in Carys’s voice against the backdrop of severe weather caused the stress knot to tighten in his chest. “Where are you?”
“No idea,” she said.
Not at all helpful.
“I was on my way to your ranch and turned off onto a gravel farm road after the highway.”
Better.
A loud crack sounded. She screamed.
The call dropped.
Back to not good.
Blaize turned toward the kitchen door. Kit stood there, blocking his exit.
“Where do you think you’re going in this mess?” she asked. Her gaze shot to the set of keys hanging next to the door.
“I have to go.” He started toward her.
She stepped aside. “In this? Be reasonable, Blaize. You could get hurt out there. You’re no match for a storm this size.”
Wind howled. A few seconds later, something substantial slammed against the side of the house as though punctuating her sentence. It was not lost on him that flying debris killed far too many people in weather like this.
“You could get hurt or worse, Blaize. I’m serious.”
“Someone could die if I don’t go,” he said.
Kit gave a small nod. She, of all people, would understand his need to help someone in need. It was the ranching way,ingrained in all of them since birth. Somehow it had skipped a generation with Cormac, but that was another story.
“If you have to do this, be careful out there,” Kit said, a worry wrinkle adding to the ones already scoring her forehead.
“You know I will.”
With that, he grabbed the keys to his old Jeep and headed out the door. The second he stepped outside rain pelted him like BBs. He tucked his chin to his chest and made a beeline to his Jeep that was parked on the pad next to the one-story ranch-style house.
Once inside, he claimed the driver’s seat and started the ignition. The Jeep would fare better than other types of vehicles in this mess of a storm. Texas weather in the spring was as unpredictable as serious illness. Some folks’ DNA was a ticking time bomb that, once unleashed, could get out of control fast. At least, that had been the case for Lynn. She’d gone from being the most alive person he’d ever met to sick and sicker in a matter of months.
Storms like this one always reminded him of Lynn. She’d left this world, and him, on a night much like this one.
He navigated down the lane and toward the farm road, face wet with a mix of rain and hot tears—tears that had taken too long to fall. They burned as they rolled down his cheek and dripped onto his shirt. Blaize never wanted to feel that helpless again in this lifetime. An image of Lynn stamped his thoughts. Not sick, almost-dying Lynn. But the one he’d fallen head over heels for.
A thump on the side of the Jeep cleared every distraction, bringing his focus back to the stretch of road in front of him.
Potholes on the lane had him bouncing around, but he didn’t care. He needed to get to Carys and the baby girl.
Trying to call back did no good as he was being tossed around like a fishing boat in a storm and he’d lost cell coverage. Hemuttered a few choice words under his breath as he navigated toward the spot he was certain Carys was stuck.
Barreling down the lane, he turned onto the farm road. Panic struck, causing the stress knot to tighten even more. He had no idea if her vehicle had been struck or if she’d had to abandon it altogether.
