My rescuer blushed a deep red before righting me and letting me go.

"You okay, ma'am?"

"I-yes, I'm fine. Thank you."

"I can't believe no one else did anything," he said while shaking his head sadly. He looked around at the clamor around us; no one had even noticed the incident.

"Thanks again," I said, my eyes roaming over his body quickly. He was muscular, but not heavy, and his clothes, a pair of tight Wrangler's and a well-worn button-up shirt, flattered his lean body.

A sheet of cold tingles washed over my body as I suddenly recalled the feel of his hard muscles pressing into me. I realized I was panting, and I tried to slow my breathing. But I was still electrified by the terror I'd felt earlier, and the sudden, overwhelming surge of attraction I faced only added to the confusing mix of emotions that were coursing through me.

This dusty young cowboy, whoever he was, was the most attractive man I'd ever met, and he'd just saved me from something awful, I had no doubt.

"Ma'am, are you sure you're all right?" he asked as we finally reached the counter of the cafe.

"I am, thank you."  I knew I should have tried to think of something else to say, but I was still in fight-or-flight mode, and just calming myself down was enough of an effort.

My rescuer didn't seem like he was much for words either, and by the time we had ordered our food he still hadn't said a word.

"I better make sure you make it out of here okay," he finally said, as I turned to leave.

"Okay," I said, "I'm sorry."

"About what?" He sounded confused. I wasn't sure either, but it had been the first thing that popped into my mind. God I can be stupid sometimes. It didn’t help that he made me nervous—I always lost my tongue whenever I was around guys I was attracted to.

We pushed out of the dark, loud truck stop and back into the bright sunlight outside. He walked me to my truck, which happened to be right next to his big, blue Dodge Ram.

He tipped his hat and climbed in, and instantly I felt pressure to come up with something to say.

"Wait!" I blurted out in a panic. "What's your name?"

"Luke," he answered. He didn't ask for mine before he fired up the engine of his truck and sped off, leaving me there in the dusty parking lot, alone.

I couldn't help feeling terribly disappointed as I got back into my vehicle and drove off. Of course, I didn't know the first thing about him; least of all whether he had a girlfriend, or whatever. Stupid me: I was once again taking a random, meaningless encounter and building it up into something romantic in my head, because I always overthought everything. I'd done that so many times before.

But that feeling I'd felt between us: the tension and electricity in the air, was that all in my imagination?

It couldn't have been. Every time I walked into a crowded lecture hall or a party, I always hoped I'd find somebody, and I'd have that feeling.

I was looking so hard, and it never happened.

Of course, until today.

I sighed. And of course, the one time I actually did meet someone, I totally blew it.

 

You didn't blow it, I told myself. He didn't even want to talk to you.Maybe he was just shy, I consoled myself. But probably not. Most of the boys back home had been macho blowhards, like their fathers, not stereotypical quiet cowboys, like the kind one sees in Hollywood movies.

My phone spoke to me in its weird, robotic female voice, telling me to turn off the freeway and onto a heavily wooded, county dirt road.

I was getting close to my stepfather’s ranch, but I was too preoccupied to care. I kept thinking about Luke.

A big tractor-trailer roared past carrying a load of logs, and I pulled the truck way to the side to let it pass, almost ending up in the ditch.

But it barely pulled me out of my thoughts. All I could do was think about Luke and my failures. Finally the violent blast of a semi horn startled me out of my reverie for good.

I had just turned a blind corner, and suddenly I was face-to-face with another log truck speeding my way; there was nowhere near enough space on the road for both of us.

Time seemed to come to a stop as it hurtled closer and closer, and I could see the surprised expression on the driver's face as he stepped on the brake.

There was now way either of us could stop in time, and at the last second I steered the truck into the ditch.

I wasn't going very fast when I hit the embankment, thank God there weren’t any trees in my path and I didn't roll over. The semi roared past with just inches to spare, creating a dust storm all around.

The semi finally rumbled to a halt behind me, and I pushed open the door, my heart pounding in my throat for the second time that day and my body shaking with adrenaline. I stepped out onto the dusty dirt road and fought the urge to vomit. I watched as the truck driver ran towards me.

"Jesus Christ," he gasped, "are you alright?"

"Yeah..." I said, fighting nausea. I reached out and grabbed his arm, steadying myself as I resisted the urge to retch.

"You’re not hurt or anything?"

"No, I don't think so. I, I hit the ditch going pretty slow."

"Alright ma'am, there's no phone service out here, but I’ll gladly make a call for you when I get to Evansville. I'll call the tow company, first. You'll need a tow out of there, that's for sure."

"Thank you so much," I said, managing a smile despite the nausea and disorientation. "Could you also call a number for me as well? It's my stepfather’s. He lives outside of Parker." I grabbed a pen and paper from the cab and wrote down the number and handed it to him.

"Absolutely, miss."

I watched as he climbed back in his big-rig and drove away, leaving me alone in the middle of the woods. The air suddenly seemed colder, and the forest bigger and wilder, now that I was in the middle of nowhere alone. It was so quiet; I could hear the wind whispering through the pines all around me. I looked around at the towering trees and tried to enjoy the stillness, but after everything that had happened today, it seemed more ominous than peaceful.

Oh well, I thought at the time, at least my stepfather or the tow company would be here soon.

An hour went by, and nothing.

I paced around, getting bored. I tried to sit in the truck, but it was tilted over at such a crazy angle that I couldn't stand it for long. I ended up leaning against the side of it, looking up and down the road, kicking pebbles. Finally, after what seemed like forever, I heard a truck barreling down the road.

For a brief, hopeful second, I thought it was the same blue Dodge that Luke had been driving. And then it became obvious that it was the tow truck that was speeding towards me. It noisily came to a stop, and a friendly-looking man jumped out, leaving the engine on.

The expression on his face changed when he saw just how stuck my truck was. He walked slowly around it, and then went back to his wrecker to shut off the engine. "It looks like you got yourself in quite a pickle, ma'am," he said, shaking his head ruefully. "I can try to pull out your truck, but I'm afraid it's going to roll over when I do."

I groaned. Of course there was some kind of pain-in-the-neck complication to emerge at the last minute.

"So what are you going to do?" I asked, trying not to let my irritation creep into my voice.

"I dunno. I'll wait until the Thompson boy gets here. He’s supposed to come fetch you."

‘Thompson boy?’ I said quietly to myself. ‘What does he mean by that?’ Thompson happened to be my stepfather’s last name.