She grabbed her cell phone, unable to wait a moment longer to call Renada and give her the news. But as she flipped it open, she heard the roar of an engine and looked into her rearview mirror to find a huge farm machine of some kind barreling down on her.

Fumbling for the key in the ignition, she let out a cry and braced herself for the inevitable crash as her rental car was suddenly shrouded in a cloud of dust.

She must have closed her eyes, waiting for the impact, because when she opened them, she found a pair of very blue, very angry eyes scowling in at her.

Turning the key, she whirred down her window since the cowboy hunkered next to her rental car seemed to be mouthing something.

“Yes?” she inquired, cell phone still in hand in case she needed to call for help. “Is there a problem?”

He quirked a brow. “Other than you parked in the middle of the road just over a rise? Nope, that about covers it.”

“I’m sorry. Let me pull off the road so you can get around.”

“Going to take more than that to get a combine through here on this narrow stretch of road, I’m afraid.”

A combine. How interesting.

“You lost?” he asked, shoving back his battered gray Stetson to glance over the top of her rental toward the farmhouse, then back to her.

He had the most direct blue-eyed stare she’d ever seen.

“No.” Not that it was any of his business. “I think I’ve seen all I need to see here so I’ll just go on up the road.”

“The road dead-ends a mile in the direction you’re headed,” he said. “But if that’s what you want to do. I’m only going another half mile. I can follow you.”

Oh, wouldn’t that be delightful.

“I believe in that case I’ll just pull into this house and let you go by,” she said and started to open her door.

“Want help with the gate?” he asked with a hint of amusement as he stepped back to let her slide from the car.

“I’m sure I can figure it out.” She straightened to her full height of five-nine, counting the two-inch heels of her dress boots, but he still towered over her.

Turning her back to him, she walked to the barbed-wire gate strung across the road into the house. She could feel his gaze appraising her and wished she’d worn something more appropriate.

Renada had joked that she needed to buy herself a pair of cowboy boots. She had worn designer jeans, a blouse and a pair of black dress boots with heels. As one of her heels sank into the soft dirt, she wished she’d taken Renada’s advice.