She thought of her father and started bawling. He was gone. He’d never come back. Roberta would torment her to death. There was nothing left.

She walked out the front door like a sleepwalker, out to the dirt road that led past the house. And she sat down in the middle of it—heartbroken and dusty with tears running down her cheeks.

Chapter 2

Michelle felt the vibration of the vehicle before she smelled the dust that came up around it. Her back was to the direction it was coming from. Desperation had blinded her to the hope of better days. She was sick of life. Sick of everything.

She put her hands on her knees, brought her elbows in, closed her eyes, and waited for the collision. It would probably hurt. Hopefully, it would be quick...

There was a squealing of tires and a metallic jerk. She didn’t feel the impact. Was she dead?

Long, muscular legs in faded blue denim came into view above big black hand-tooled leather boots.

“Would you care to explain what the hell you’re doing sitting in the middle of a road?” a deep, angry voice demanded.

She looked up into chilling liquid black eyes and grimaced. “Trying to get hit by a car?”

“I drive a truck,” he pointed out.

“Trying to get hit by a truck,” she amended in a matter-of-fact tone.

“Care to elaborate?”

She shrugged. “My stepmother will probably beat me when she gets back home because I ruined her sale.”

He frowned. “What sale?”

“My father died three weeks ago,” she said heavily. She figured he didn’t know, because she hadn’t seen any signs of life at the house down the road until she’d watched his truck go by just recently. “She had all his things taken to the landfill because I insisted on a real funeral, not a cremation, and now she’s trying to sell his stamp collection. It’s all I have left of him. I ruined the sale. The man left. She hit me...”

He turned his head. It was the first time he’d noticed the side of her face that looked almost blistered. His eyes narrowed. “Get in the truck.”

She stared at him. “I’m all dusty.”

“It’s a dusty truck. It won’t matter.”

She got to her feet. “Are you abducting me?”

“Yes.”

She sighed. “Okay.” She glanced at him ruefully. “If you don’t mind, I’d really like to go to Mars. Since I’m being abducted, I mean.”

He managed a rough laugh.

She went around to the passenger side. He opened the door for her.

“You’re Mr. Brandon,” she said when he climbed into the driver’s seat and slammed the door.

“Yes.”

She drew in a breath. “I’m Michelle.”