Safe In The Rancher's Arms: Stranded with the Rancher / Sheltered by the Millionaire / Pregnant by the Texan

When she sat down again, her legs weak, Drew resumed his pacing. If sexual energy had an aura, she was pretty sure the two of them could have lit up their confined cell without ever using a flashlight.

Silence reigned after that. With her phone turned off, she had no way to check the time. She didn’t want to ask Drew. So she sat.

The chair grew harder. The air grew damper. Far in the distance, she thought she heard the wail of sirens. Not another tornado alarm, but a medical vehicle this time. Now, she could no longer pretend that she and Drew were a couple enjoying an innocent kiss. What waited for them above was terrifying. She had no clue what to expect, and she was pretty sure she didn’t want to know.

After a half hour passed in dead quiet, she heard him sigh heavily. He reclaimed his spot beside her, scooting his chair a few inches away from hers. She didn’t waste time being offended. It was survival of the fittest at this moment. Sexual insanity would only exacerbate matters.

When he finally spoke, she jumped.

“Did you really steal money to buy bread?”

* * *

Drew wasn’t sure why he wanted to know. But he did.

After a very long pause, Beth finally spoke. “Yes. My mother was not very responsible when it came to things like that. I often had to fake her signature on permission slips for my brother and me. Most kids learn to count money in kindergarten and first grade because it’s part of the curriculum. I learned out of necessity.”

Drew sat in silence absorbing the spare details of Beth’s story. Contrasting her early life with the way he had grown up made him wince at his good fortune.

He knew instinctively that she wouldn’t want his sympathy. So instead, he focused on that kiss. Beth had been eager and responsive and fully in the moment. He adjusted his jeans, groaning inwardly. The last thing he needed right now was to acknowledge an attraction that had been growing for two years. Beth was beautiful and smart and capable. Of course, he was drawn to her. But that didn’t mean he had to be stupid. His sole focus at the moment needed to be making sure he and Beth could manage until help arrived.

Her quiet voice startled him. “Will you check the time, please? And see if cell service is back up.”

“Sure.” He hit the dial on his watch. “Nine o’clock.” He turned on his phone, waited, and winced when he saw the battery at sixty-eight percent. “Still nothing.”

Sitting was no longer an option. His muscles twitched with the need to do something...anything. He went to the cellar doors and tried again to push upward. Whatever was holding them in place might as well have been an elephant. He and Beth were never going to be able to get out on their own.

Leaning his hip against the ladder, he admitted the truth. “We might as well accept the fact that we’re going to be here overnight. It’s dark up top. There are probably power lines down and roads that are blocked. Search and rescue will have a wide area to cover, and they may not get to us until morning.”

“If then.”

He let that one pass. “I think it’s time to eat something.” Rummaging in the footlocker, he found a small metal tin full of beef jerky. He removed a couple pieces and handed one to Beth. “Bon appétit.”

She didn’t say anything, but he heard the rustle of plastic packaging as she opened the snack.

There were two more box-shaped flashlights in the footlocker. If he wanted to, he could turn on one of the smaller ones they were already using to illuminate their living space—until the juice ran out. But on the off chance their incarceration lasted longer than twenty-four hours or more, it made sense to preserve the batteries.

He rummaged a second time and handed Beth a bottle of water. “Drink only half if you can. We need to hope for the best and plan for the worst.”

“If we ever get out of here, I’ll put that on a T-shirt for you. The wisdom of Drew Farrell.”

“Are you making fun of me?”

“Not at all. Merely trying to stave off feminine hysteria.”

He grinned in the darkness, chewing the jerky and swallowing it with a grimace. “You’re about the least hysterical woman I’ve ever met.”

“I have my moments.”

“Not that I’ve seen. I admire you, Beth, despite my grousing.”

“There you go again...being nice. It creeps me out.”

“That’s because you’ve only seen one side of me. I can actually be quite a gentleman when I choose. Case in point, I promise not to have my wicked way with you while we sleep tonight.”

She laughed out loud. “I don’t think I can get down on this floor unless we turn on a light and check for spiders and other nasty stuff.”

The husky feminine amusement in her voice made him happy. At least he’d distracted her for a moment. “That’s doable. I came across one of those reflective silver space blankets in the trunk. I thought we could spread that on the ground. It won’t make us any more comfortable, but at least it will be clean. I’ll sit up and lean against the wall. You can put your head in my lap for a pillow.”

“You can’t sleep sitting up. Either we both lie down, or we perch on these folding chairs until we fall over.”

“Stubborn woman.”

“Definitely the pot calling the kettle black.”

“Are you tired?”

“I don’t really know. All my synapses are fried. Sheer terror will do that to you.”

She was right. The adrenaline had flowed hot and heavy this afternoon. “I’m betting if we keep still long enough we might be able to sleep. We’ll need rest to handle whatever happens tomorrow.”

He heard rather than saw her stand up. When her hand touched his arm, he realized that she had come to him.... one human seeking comfort from another. “It’s going to be bad, isn’t it?”

He nodded, squeezing her hand briefly. “Yeah. Wind strong enough to lift whatever is on top of us will have done a hell of a lot of damage.”

Her sigh was audible. “Let’s get settled for the night, then. The sooner we sleep, the sooner morning will come.”

* * *

Beth wanted to weep with joy when Drew turned on one of the flashlights so they could construct their makeshift bed. Being able to see his face gave her a shot of confidence and relief. Everything in Royal might have changed, but Drew was still Drew. His features were drawn and tired, though. She could only imagine what she looked like. It was probably a good thing she didn’t have a mirror. Her hair felt like a rat’s nest.

Thankfully, the cellar was not as bad as she’d imagined. Drew checked every corner and cranny, killing a couple of spiders, but nothing major. By the time they had spread the silver blanket on the floor, she was more than ready to close her eyes.

But first, she had to deal with something that couldn’t wait. “Drew...I....” Her face flamed.

He was quick on the uptake. “We’ll both use the facilities.” He went to the ladder and stood with his back to her, beaming the flashlight toward the cellar doors, diffusing the illumination so that she could see but not feel exposed.

Beth did what had to be done and swapped places with him. In hindsight, it was not nearly as embarrassing as she had expected. She and Drew were survivors in a bad situation. No point in being prissy or overly modest.

At last, they were ready to court sleep. She knelt awkwardly, wincing when the concrete floor abraded her knees through the thin barrier that was their only comfort. She curled onto her side, facing the wall.

Drew joined her, facing the same direction, but leaving a safe distance between them. “All set?” he asked.

“Yes. But I should give you your shirt. You’ll get cold.”

“I’m fine.” He sighed, a deep, ragged exhale that could have meant anything. “I’m turning off the light now.”

Her stomach clenched. “Okay.”

This time the darkness was even worse after she’d been able to see for the last half hour. Her eyes stung with tears she would not let fall. She was okay. Drew was okay. That was all that mattered.

Her heart thundered too rapidly for sleep. And she couldn’t regulate her breathing. She trembled all over—delayed reaction probably.

Drew’s arms came around her, dragging her against him, his hands settling below her breasts. “Relax, Beth. Things will look better in the morning.”

The feel of his warm chest against her back kept her sane—that and his careful embrace. Her head rested on his arm. It must have been painful for him, but he didn’t voice a single complaint.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

“Go to sleep.”

* * *

For Drew, the night was a million hours long. He barely slept—and then only in snatches. His gritty eyes and aching body reminded him that he wasn’t a kid anymore. But even a teenager would have trouble relaxing on a bare cement floor. To take his mind off the physical discomfort, he concentrated on Beth.

It took her a half hour to fall asleep. He knew, because he kept sneaking peeks at his watch. Her body had been tense in his embrace, either from the miserable sleeping arrangements, or because she was uneasy about their inescapable physical intimacy. Or perhaps both.

Either way, she finally succumbed to exhaustion.

He liked holding her. As he tucked a swath of hair behind her ear, he inhaled the faint scent of her shampoo. Apple maybe...or some other fruity smell. In the dark, his senses were magnified. The curl he wrapped around his finger was soft and springy and damp. He allowed himself for one indulgent moment to imagine Beth’s beautiful hair tumbling across his chest as they made love.

The image took his breath away. All these months of verbal sparring had hidden a disturbing truth. He was hungry for Beth Andrews—totally captivated by her spunky charm—and physically drawn to her sexy body.

If he hadn’t been in pain, and if every one of his muscles weren’t drained from battling a tornado, he would have been more than a little aroused. As it was, his body reacted. But only for a short moment. He closed his eyes and prayed for oblivion.

* * *

Beth woke up with a sensation of doom she couldn’t shake. It was only after she opened her eyes that she remembered why. Her concrete prison was still intact with no way out.

Despite the circumstances, it wasn’t the worst morning after she’d ever experienced. Far from it. Drew’s right arm lay heavy across her waist. His right hand cupped her breast. Even though his gentle snore reassured her that he was still asleep, she blushed from her toes to her hairline. Until yesterday, Drew Farrell had been nothing more than her annoying, arrogant neighbor.

Except for the fact that he was incredibly gorgeous, masculine and sexy, she had been able to ignore him and his continuing dissatisfaction with her thriving business. But now, in one brief stormy adventure, they had been thrust together in a pressure cooker. No longer were they merely bickering acquaintances.

For better or for worse, they were comrades in arms. Friends.

It was difficult to sleep with someone, even fully clothed, and not experience a sense of intimacy. Not necessarily sexual intimacy, though that was certainly a real possibility when it came to her feelings for Drew.

But they shared another equally real type of closeness. They had stared death in the face.

Even now the words sounded too dramatic. But when she remembered looking over her shoulder and seeing the monster storm barreling toward them with ferocity, something inside her shivered with dread. Disaster had come close enough to breathe down their necks. They had escaped with their lives, but they weren’t out of the woods yet.

It was probably still early. Whatever landed on them during the tornado had darkened most of the tiny holes in the cellar doors that let in light. But the few that were left filtered the faint glow of dawn.

She felt no real urgency to move. Though her hip ached where it had spent the better part of the night battling with the unforgiving floor, she was surprisingly content. Being held close in Drew’s warm, comforting embrace was better than a tranquilizer. His big body was hard and muscular, reminding her without words that she was under the protection of a confident, capable male.

There was something to be said for primitive responses. Though Beth could hold her own in most situations, the fact remained that Drew was larger and stronger and more equipped to deal with the physical challenges of their crisis.

She let her mind wander. How badly had her farm been damaged? What about Drew’s horses? And the town of Royal? Had it avoided a direct hit? Thankfully, the storm had struck late enough in the day that most children would have already been home from school. But businesses in town would still have been open.

The not knowing drove her crazy. Even so, worrying accomplished nothing. She had no other choice but to live in the moment.

Closing her eyes, she savored the unfamiliar sensation of her cheek resting on Drew’s arm. The light covering of masculine hair tickled her nose. His scent was so familiar to her now that she could pick him out of a crowd in a dark room.

He must be very uncomfortable. But there was no reason to wake him. Had he thought it odd to hold her like this?

They had been adversaries from the beginning. It seemed he was always rubbing his good fortune in her face. Though perhaps she was too sensitive on that score, because most people thought he was a great guy. In fact, the only person she knew in Maverick County who ever got crossways with the owner of Willowbrook Farms was Beth Andrews.

Their feud had gone on a long time, probably because they were too much alike. Both stubborn. Both sure they were right.

He muttered in his sleep, tightening his grasp, his fingers brushing her nipple though three thin layers: his shirt, her tank top, and a lacy bra. Was he dreaming about a woman?

Unbidden, arousal stirred in Beth’s veins. It was sweet and yearning and ultimately for naught. Nothing was going to happen. The time and place were wrong. More importantly, she and Drew had to hope that rescue was on the way and that whatever they discovered above ground was not going to be too terrible.

She felt his steady breathing ruffle the hair at her nape. Had he thought about kissing her there? Or had he been too wiped out to even notice she was a woman? How sad that their first opportunity to really get to know each other was fraught with difficulty and struggle.

Being Drew’s neighbor had been a pain in the ass until today. His repeated bluster about the problems her business caused his had added to the stress of getting the farm up and running. In the midst of his frequent complaints, she had been busy tending to her fledgling crops, learning new things she needed to know and trying to keep the checkbook in the black.

Now, there would be no going back. What would this new awareness mean to their ongoing battle?

Sometime later she realized that she must have dozed off again. One of her legs was trapped between Drew’s thighs. It was as if his body was trying to stake a claim. She knew she should wake him, if only to let him move his arm. But this moment was pleasurable despite the context.

Once they were officially awake and alert, they would have to face things like a tiny water supply, dwindling stores of food, and the reality that no one knew where they were. All the harsh realities that defined them at the moment.

Given that truth, she closed her eyes and drifted back to sleep.

* * *

When Drew woke up, he stifled a groan. His body was one big throbbing toothache, and he wasn’t at all sure he would be able to stand. But having Beth tucked up against him was a bonus. Carefully, he eased his arm out from under her head, wincing as the blood returned. Beth muttered and frowned when her cheek came to rest on the unsympathetic ground.

He checked his watch. Seven thirty. Surely late enough for police and rescue personnel to begin going house to house. Rolling to his feet, he tried to ignore the sudden craving for eggs and bacon and hot coffee. Sadly, beef jerky was on the menu again. But not until Beth joined him.

Standing on the ladder, he turned on his phone and held it as close as he could to the cellar doors, praying for a signal. Still nothing...not that he really expected an overnight miracle. The storm had probably destroyed numerous cell towers.

He heard Beth sit up. “Any change?” she asked.

He wanted to be able to give her good news, but there was none. “No. You okay?” She was nothing more than a dim outline in the gloom.

“I’ve been better.”

“We have to eat and drink something. If this drags on, we’ll need to keep our energy up.” He hopped down from his perch and located more beef jerky and water. “Welcome to breakfast, Survivor-style.”

“Thanks. I think.”

He joined her on the floor, their knees touching as they sat cross-legged on the crinkly blanket. “Somehow, during all those years in the Boy Scouts, I never imagined this scenario.”

“Did you make it all the way to Eagle?”

“Yeah. My dad was a stickler for never giving up on anything.”

“Ah, now I get it,” she said. “That’s why you continue to browbeat me.”

“Eat your breakfast, woman.”

If he had to be trapped in a hole in the ground, Beth was the perfect companion. She hadn’t whined. She hadn’t panicked. Her sense of humor had survived the tornado intact even though she had to know, as he did, that things would probably get worse before they got better.

Holding her as they slept last night tapped into more than his human need to cheat death. With all the societal expectations stripped away, he discovered something deeper than physical attraction. Beth Andrews had edged her way into his heart.

That information was sensitive—need-to-know basis only. But it was something to be tucked away and savored at a later date.

“Seriously, Drew. What are we going to do to pass the time? If we can’t use our flashlights, our options are seriously limited.”

Several inappropriate suggestions came to mind immediately. But he squelched the impulse to voice them. “We can try lifting the doors again.”

“And that will take all of ten minutes.”

“Sarcasm, Beth? I thought we’d reached a détente.”

A faint noise from above interrupted her answer. He put a hand on her knee. “Shh...did you hear that?”

Four

They both froze, their ears straining in the darkness. Next came the screech of metal, followed by a muffled shout. “Anybody down there?”

Drew leapt to his feet, dragging Beth with him. “Yes,” he shouted. “Yes.”

Beth was trembling. Hell, he probably was, too. He wrapped his arm around her narrow waist and she curled her arms around him. Together, they faced the specter of uncertainty.

They waited for what seemed like forever but might only have been a minute or two. Thumps and curses rained down on them, along with dust particles that made them cough. The voice came again, louder this time. “Hang on.”

Beth leaned into him. “What’s taking so long?”

“I think they’re trying to move whatever has the doors stuck. It must be big.”

She murmured something under her breath.

“What?” he asked, still straining to hear what was going on up top.

“I hope the doors don’t break and whatever that is doesn’t fall and crush us in this pit.”

He chuckled, despite the tension gripping him. “An active imagination can be a curse at times.”

“Tell me about it.”

They fell silent again. All the commotion above them had ceased. Surely the rescue team had heard him shout.

Beth voiced his concern. “What if they didn’t hear you? What if they went away?”

“I don’t think they would give up without making sure no one is down here...even if they didn’t hear me.”

But doubt began to creep in. Why was nothing happening?

Beth burrowed her face into his chest. He held her close. “Don’t freak out. If they left, they’ll come back.” God, I hope so.

He checked his watch. “It’s almost nine.”

“What time did we hear the first shout?” The words were muffled.

“I’m not sure. Maybe ten minutes ago? Fifteen?”

The return of absolute silence was infinitely more difficult than if they had never received a ray of hope.

Beth was shaking.

He rubbed her back. “Hang on. We’ve made it this far.”

Suddenly, the loud racket returned, a shrill high-pitched noise that might have been a winch. Then a dreadful dragging scrape, and finally a human shout.

Seconds later the cellar doors were flung wide. The brilliant sunlight, after hours of captivity, blinded them.

A figure crouched at the opening. “Ms. Andrews? Are you down there?”

Drew shielded his eyes with his arm. “She is. And me, too. Is that you, Jed?”

The minutes that followed were chaos. Drew boosted Beth up the ladder, passing her up to helping hands, and then followed her. He grabbed his brother in a bear hug. “God, I’m so glad to see you.”

Jed’s face was grim. “You scared the hell out of me. No one had any idea where you were.” Two EMTs muscled in, checking Drew’s and Beth’s blood pressure, firing off questions, taking care of business. Drew gave a terse summation of the events that had stranded them below ground.

It was easy to see why he and Beth had been trapped. Her small car, now a mangled mess of metal, had been snatched up and dumped...right on top of the cellar.

When the immediate furor died, he searched for Beth. She had walked several hundred feet away and stood gazing at what was left of her fall pumpkin crop. Virtually nothing. The tornado had ripped across her land, decimating everything in its path.

The front left portion of her bungalow was sheared off, but two-thirds of the house remained intact.

He stood by her side. “I’ll help you with repairs.”

She turned to face him, her expression lost. “I appreciate the offer. But unless you know how to grow a pumpkin overnight, my revenue stream just vanished until June at the earliest.” She searched his face. “What did he tell you about your place?”

The day was already heating up. Beth slipped off his shirt and handed it to him. He slid his arms into it and fastened a few buttons. “I was very lucky. We lost a lot of fencing...and one outbuilding. But the staff and the horses are all safe.”

“Your house?”

“Minor stuff.”

Jed joined them. “Let’s get you two back to Willowbrook. You can shower and have a decent meal.”

Beth glanced at Drew’s brother, her eyes haunted. “Tell us about Royal. How bad is it?”

Jed hesitated.

Drew squeezed Beth’s hand. “Tell us, Jed. We’ve been imagining the worst.”

Jed’s shoulders slumped. He bent his head and stared at the ground before looking up with a grim-faced stare. “Mass destruction. The storm was an EF4. A quarter-mile wide and on the ground for twenty-two miles. The center of the storm missed Willowbrook, but it turned and traveled straight over Beth’s place and on east.”

“God help us,” Drew said. Nothing so tragic had ever touched the town of Royal. “How many dead?”

“As of this morning, the count stood at thirteen. A family of four...tourists. They took shelter beneath an overpass, but you know how dangerous that is. A young couple in a mobile home.”

Beth put her hand to her mouth, tears spilling down her cheeks. “And the other seven?”

Jed’s jaw worked as if couldn’t form the words. “The town hall was destroyed.”

“Jesus.” Drew’s stomach pitched. Beth sobbed openly now.

Jed shook his head, grief on his face. “The deputy mayor is dead. Also, Craig Richardson, who owned the Double R. Plus five others who were in the building at the time.”

“And the mayor? Richard Vance?” Drew knew the man by sight and respected him.

“Life threatening injuries. But stable. I don’t have a clue about the total number injured. The hospital is overloaded but managing.”