"Gemma and I are goin' to check out a couple of buckin' horses over by Beulah. We'll be back tonight, but it'll probably be late tonight."

"Then drive safe and I'll see you tomorrow."

He wrapped an arm around her shoulder, giving her a quick peck on the forehead. "Later."

The familiar scent of horses and leather and sun-baked cotton surrounded her. Maybe she'd be doomed to disappointment, but Macie was happy her dad was at least trying to reach out to her. And she'd be damned if she'd slap his hand away.

Chapter Ten.

Later that night another rumble of thunder rattled Macie's teeth. Lightning flashes seared her eyes. Wind gusts made the camper shake like an aluminum can. Rain pelted the steel siding.

The electricity had crapped out hours ago. She had no clue how the backup generator on the camper worked. Her cell phone was completely dead. She couldn't call her dad-not that she would've ventured outside in a raging freakin' thunderstorm by herself even if she'd had explicit instructions on how to fix the damn generator.

So Macie cowered in the dark, alone, completely freaked out and feeling stupid for being such a scaredy cat. God. She should be over this irrational fear of storms by now. Still, she knew if her dad and Gemma were around, she would've hightailed it into Gemma's house. As far as she knew, they hadn't made it home. She'd like to think her father would've checked on her to make sure she was all right.

He'd sooner check on his horses and cows than on you.

Stop it. All of it-the recriminations, the neediness, the overpowering fear.

Yet, her subconscious reminded her in every horror movie she'd ever watched gruesome scenes took place during a thunderstorm-when the female victim was alone.

Every noise spooked her. She'd tried to block them out by singing "Redneck Woman" at the top of her lungs. Didn't help. When a crash sounded outside her window, she'd managed not to scream, but panic kept her wide-awake.

The wind whistled and a new fear arose. Were there tornados in Wyoming? Here she was stuck in a small camper-aka a tornado magnet. Gemma's house had a cellar. She'd be safe there. Should she make a run for it? But...what if there were electrical wires on the ground? What if she stepped outside onto a live line? Was it worth it to take a chance she might be electrocuted? As she debated, the door to the camper blew open.

She screamed. She screamed even louder when she saw the hulking, dark figure blocking the doorway. Blindly she reached on the counter for a weapon-hoping for a frying pan, a flyswatter, a can of nonstick cooking spray...anything.

"Macie? Where are you?"

She had to be hearing things. Why would he be here now?

The deep voice became louder. "Macie? It's me. Carter. Carter McKay."

"Carter?"

"Yeah. Where are you?" Ooof exploded from his lungs as she tackled him. She wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs clamped his waist like visegrips. She'd didn't care he was sopping wet; she didn't care that she immediately burst into tears.

"Hey, now. Ssh. It's okay. I'm here, darlin'. I've got you. Ssh. Take a deep breath." He slammed the door shut with his foot, and walked sideways through the galley style kitchen. He cursed when his knee hit the edge of the mattress and they half-fell on the bed.

Macie clung to him.

Carter shifted her body. He settled her on his lap, not attempting to disentangle the death grip her limbs had on him. His hands stroked her back, soothing her. He rested his chin on her head.

Her breath stuttered. She buried her face in his solid warmth. After she'd regained some semblance of calm, she sighed.

"Better?" he murmured.

"A little."

"Pleased as I am to have you in my arms, can I ask why you're actin' so..."

Please, don't say childish.

"...skittish?"

Although thankful he wasn't making fun of her, she couldn't find the guts to answer.

"Macie?"

She wasn't surprised he kept prodding her. But it was his gentle tone that made her whisper, "Because I hate storms."

"I kinda guessed that."

Rain beat on the roof in the silence, mocking her fear.

"I've been terrified of them since I was a kid."

"Why?"

She didn't answer.

"It might help if you tell me what happened."

Macie suspected he wouldn't quit pestering her until she told him the truth. "When I was about four, I woke up in the middle of the night during a bad thunderstorm. We were living in a two-bedroom trailer in Texas. I went into my mom's room, only to find she wasn't there. So I crawled in her bed and waited for her. Scared out of my mind that someone had broken in and kidnapped her. I hid under a blanket, but I couldn't even cry because I thought maybe the bad guys would hear me and come back. The lightning was so close I remember the hair on my arms and the back of my neck standing straight up.

"Then a hailstorm blew through and hailstones the size of baseballs pounded the roof, and beat on the side of the trailer hard enough the bedroom windows broke. Glass covered the floor. Everything was soaking wet from the rain. I remember it was so dark and I was alone and I couldn't move. For hours. It seemed like I spent a solid lifetime in that bed. Whenever it storms it reminds me of being helpless and alone-"

"Ssh. Macie, darlin', I'm here. You're not alone now." Carter rocked her.

She released another shuddering sigh. "My mom never understood why I was afraid, so I've never told anyone else."

"I'm glad you told me."

"Yeah, well, it seems kind of embarrassing not to have outgrown that childhood fear."

"It seems perfectly justified to me. Besides, we all have fears we try to hide."

"Even you?"

He laughed softly. "Even me."

Macie lifted her head and peered in his eyes. "You know mine, it's only fair you tell me yours."

"Promise you won't laugh?"

She nodded.

Absentmindedly, he brushed the damp hair from her cheek. "See, I'm way worse off than you because I have two. The first one is, I'm petrified of dancin'."

"You're afraid of dancing?"

"Stupid, huh?"

"Why? Did you have a cowgirl spurn you at a junior high dance or something?"

"No. I'm afraid I'll look like a fool. It is a bone-deep fear that keeps me far, far away from weddin' dances and the dance floor in honky-tonks."

"You've never two-stepped?"

"Nope."

"Slow danced?"

"Nope."

"So, your high school prom?"

"Skipped it, but I went to the kegger afterward."

"Huh." She fingered the collar on his T-shirt. "No woman in your life has tried to teach you?"

"Not a lot of women in my life, Macie." He laughed softly. "Besides my mom. And to further emasculate myself, I have a fear of monkeys."

"Why?"

"I think it stems from The Wizard of Oz and those damn flyin' monkeys. My brothers found out my fear and used to torture me, tyin' me to a chair and replayin' those scenes with the flyin' monkeys over and over. Same goes for Planet of the Apes. Then when I was older I read a short story about a possessed toy monkey-you know the kind that you wind up and it plays the cymbals?-this monkey had the power to make people kill and go crazy." He shuddered. "Not cute and cuddly creatures. Hairy overgrown rats, that's what they are."

A crack of lightning flashed outside the window, followed by a booming crash of thunder; Macie jumped and hid her face against his chest.

"Easy."

A couple of beats passed as rain pounded on the roof.

"You okay?"

No. "I'm better than I was."

"Glad I'm good for something."

"I just don't understand why you're here. Or how you knew..."

"Gemma called me to tell me she wasn't gonna spook the new horses and drag them through the storm. She and Cash would be stayin' overnight in Spearfish. I figured that meant you were here alone. When the electricity went off, I thought I'd better check on you."

Gemma had called him? Not her dad? Rather than analyze that, she said, "Thanks."

"No problem. Plus, I wanted to apologize for not showin' up last night." His thumb swept the top of her ear, causing gooseflesh to break out on her neck. "Gemma said you probably needed time to settle in. I should've ignored her and listened to my gut and come here like I planned."

"I wondered what happened. I figured maybe it'd all been-"

"-a line? What I said to you at the rodeo grounds wasn't a line, Macie. I'll keep tellin' you that until you believe it." His mouth grazed her temple. "So, you wanna pack your stuff and come home with me?"

Macie didn't respond. Despite the fact Carter was being sweet and thoughtful, she didn't want to be away from everything familiar.

Right. Nothing about this situation was familiar. But it smacked of trouble to just let Carter swoop in and take care of her. She knew better than to rely on anyone besides herself.

"Macie?"

"Thanks, but I think I'd rather stay here."

"Is it because you're afraid of leavin' and goin' out into the storm?" He paused and leaned back to look at her. "Or just afraid of me?"

"Maybe a little of both."

Carter considered her for a moment. "Well, I didn't bring my toothbrush, so you'll have to share yours."

"You're staying here? Why?"

"And miss my chance to show off my cowboy manners by helpin' a little lady in distress?" Carter grinned. "Not on your life, darlin'."

"But. That doesn't mean I'm gonna-"

"I have nothin' else in mind for tonight, I swear."

Macie gave him a skeptical look.

"That doesn't mean things won't change in a heartbeat after you're not lookin' at me like a scared rabbit." He traced her cheek with the back of his hand. "Fear is the last thing I wanna see in these beautiful brown eyes when I take you the first time."

Not make love to her. Take her. Despite her lingering fear of the storm, his words sent a thrill through her.

"Although, I ain't chivalrous enough to sleep on the couch."

"If you didn't bring a toothbrush, I don't suppose you brought pajamas either?"

A slow smile lit his face. "I've never been overly fond of pajamas."

The thought of sleeping all night next to a naked Carter...Lord. You'd think she was bone-cold from the sheer amount of shivers racking her body.

Lightning spiked nearby, accompanied by a deafening crack of thunder. She gasped and threw herself against him again.

"Hey. It's okay."

After she quit shaking, he stood. "Maybe we should crawl in, pull the covers over our heads and try to forget about the storm." Carter peeled back the denim comforter and smoothed the rumpled sheet. "You first."