She tugged the blanket up to her chin. “Hard work and a little luck.”
His teeth flashed. “Same here.”
He focused on the road. Heavy snow drifted across the asphalt, driven by the winds that rocked the truck. She knotted her fingers in her lap.
“Crap.” He peered through the windshield.
“What is it?”
“Detour. They must have the road closed ahead.”
The man must have superhero vision, because all she saw was a whiteout. “Is this safe? Should we stop somewhere for the night?”
“We’re in the Rockies, sweetheart. We’re going to be up here a while. Don’t worry, I’ve driven this pass before, and it’s very safe. Things at night can look a little spooky.”
“If by spooky you mean there’s a terrifying million-foot drop on my side of the road, then yes.”
“Trust me. I’ll get you to Seattle in one piece.”
She reached for another blueberry bar and ate it in four bites. The Wyntons had given her a lovely family dinner before they left, but years of late-night cramming sessions in college turned her into a snacker. She found nibbling on something during the night kept her more alert. Maybe it was the sugar rush.
Ross geared down and then slowed more to pull off the road into a wide spot. He put the truck in park.
“What are you doing?”
“Putting chains on.”
“Oh. Do you need help?”
He shrugged into his coat, which he drove without while she sat bundled beneath a blanket. “I can manage alone, but if you’d like to see how it’s done, grab your hat and gloves.”
She’d never need to put chains on her own tires, as she had no plans to cross the Rockies alone in the future. But she disliked being helpless, so she slipped on her hat and gloves and followed him outside.
The wind hit her like an icy wall. She braced herself against it for a moment, instantly shaking with cold. She couldn’t even hear the clink of the chains Ross removed from the truck.
When she rounded to his side, she found him squatting by the rear tire draping the chains over the rubber. She squatted next to him and screamed to be heard above the howl of the wind. “Why didn’t we do this earlier at the truck stop?”
“Wasn’t sure what we’d get into, and I have good tires. We’ll make it without the chains, but this will make our drive a bit easier.”
She watched his quick, easy movements as he applied the chains the way he did everything on the ranch, with a natural ability she was always impressed with. As a girl, she loved watching Ross saddle a horse, and once she’d stood at the fence watching him break a yearling. Her girlish heart pounded out of her chest.
Now parts other than her heart were affected by his closeness and the manly work.
He looked at her, hat pulled down against the wind. “Can you get behind the wheel and drive forward a little? A slow roll forward, enough to get the chain in a position to link it on the backside.”
She nodded. Anything to get out of this snow and wind.
She jogged forward and jumped in the truck. Snow coated the windshield, and she had to switch on the wipers before she could see to roll forward even an inch. She didn’t want to take a chance she’d drive off the ledge.
A shiver rolled through her, and she set her teeth in her lip as she put the truck in gear and slowly crept forward. After she stopped, she opened the door to look back at Ross. He waved her ahead a little more. Then he gestured for her to stop, and she hopped out again to watch how he clipped the chains and then tightened them using a long metal bar.
They did the same for the other three tires and when she settled in the heated truck under her wool blanket again, she couldn’t be more grateful for the warmth and comfort of the vehicle.
While he drove, the silence made her sleepy. She switched on the radio and found nothing but static.
“Even satellite radio isn’t working in this storm,” he told her.
“What about cell service?” She grabbed her phone but Ross was right that everything had been knocked out by the storm and the mountains blocking signals at this elevation didn’t help.
“Nothing.” She dropped her phone into her bag again and downed another blueberry bar to keep her attention from wandering to his big hands. He’d removed his heavy leather gloves and his long fingers latched around the leather wheel.
Even with the flavor of blueberry in her mouth, she could almost taste the man who sat a foot away from her. He’d taste like he smelled—musky with a clean hint of soap.
Her gaze dropped to his hands again. The backs of his knuckles were lightly dusted with dark hair and veins snaked upward to disappear into the cuffs of his shirt, as he’d removed his jacket again.
A new kind of shiver ran through her from head to toe—a need to feel those big, capable, rough hands on her.
The truck slowed to a crawl through the deepening snow. Wind rocked the vehicle. Soon they were traveling so slow that she hardly felt them moving at all.
“Ross, do you think we should stop? We’re not making any progress.”
His mouth tightened, which created a bracket in his cheek. “I was thinkin’ the same. The thought of stopping doesn’t set well with me, but it might be best. We’ve got plenty of gas to keep the truck running and warm. As soon as the sun comes over those mountains in a few hours, we’ll have better visibility.”
“Plus, you’ve got to be exhausted.”
When he turned his head, she saw no trace of fatigue lining his face. Instead, some other emotion lived in his eyes.
Something that had her insides trembling.
“Pretty sure the pass widens up ahead. I’ll find a safe spot to pull off and we’ll wait out the storm. I could kick Josiah’s ass for giving me this route.”
“Why is it Josiah’s fault?”
“He’s our details guy. He does most of our research and gets us from point A to B.”
“And he failed to be a meteorologist too, I guess.”
He huffed a breath through his nose. “That’s right.”
Long minutes later and a few miles down the road, Ross located a place off to the side to pull over. He parked and within minutes the windshield grew covered with snow, leaving her with a feeling of being buried alive.
She issued a low sigh. “I’m sorry for being so much trouble, Ross.”
Across the expanse of the truck, he looked at her hard. “I told you it’s my job, Pippa.”
“I don’t want to be a job,” she rasped in a whisper.
His throat made a noise as he swallowed. “You’ve had a hard few days. Let’s talk.”
“What do you want to talk about?” She angled in the seat to face him.
“Tell me your hopes and dreams. Your goals.”
She smiled. “We really are diving back in time. I want to be a soccer star and doctor in some warm climate and you want to run a horse ranch and fight fires part time.”
His deep, rumbling chuckle provided instant heat to the truck cab. “I forgot about that talk we had with my brothers and your little sister on the patio. Seems like a thousand years ago.”
Her insides clenched in an unmistakable display of arousal. Of all times to be turned on—on a mountain during a blizzard, stuck inches away from her childhood crush.