She shook her head. “I never thought I’d need one. I’m always careful. I’ve never lost a key or locked myself out of a car in my life. Can we tow the car out of the ditch without starting it?”

“Maybe. But not unless we release the hand brake and shift it into neutral. To do that, we’ll need to get into the car.”

“And to get into the car, we’ll need the keys. Gotcha.” Megan knelt in the snow and began scraping layers away on the other side of the path Conner had cleared. Megan’s car was an older model that opened with a key. Her small key ring had three keys and a silver guitar charm on it. Finding it in all this snow would be like looking for the proverbial needle in a haystack.

The sky was bright overhead, but willows and cottonwood trees cast shade where the car was lodged. The cold was bitter and biting. As she dug through the snow, Megan stole glances at her rescuer. In full daylight, without a cap, he was even better-looking than the photos she’d googled on her laptop, with chiseled features and dark blond hair that set off his startling blue eyes. The best bull riders tended to be small and wiry. Conner was, perhaps, five-nine or -ten, with a compact, muscular body that exuded strength. Looking online, she’d seen the classic photo of him, mounted on a bucking bull, arm up, body in perfect balance. He’d looked . . . magnificent.

She’d read a news account of the mishap that had ended his career, but she’d chosen to ask him about it anyway. She’d wanted to hear the story from his point of view, how it had played out and how it had affected him. His raw honesty had moved and impressed her.

Right now, he looked as cold and miserable as she felt. But he hadn’t complained or berated her for losing her keys. Megan found herself liking him for that. But after this experience, he would probably never want to see her again.

They’d made small talk at first. But after thirty minutes of working in the snow, they were too numbed from the cold for more than a few words. Now he rose to his feet, stretching his legs and massaging his back with one hand.

“Are you all right?” she asked.

“Just need to get the kinks out,” he said. “But you look half-frozen.” He extended a gloved hand. “I want you to get up, go back to the truck, turn on the heater, and stay until you get warm.”

“What about you?” She let him pull her up, but made no move to go back to the truck.

“I’ll be fine.”

“Stop playing the tough guy. You’re as cold as I am.”

“Well, somebody needs to find your keys.”