Free Never Let Go by Deborah Smith Page A

Bethesda. We're headed home from visitin' a sick relative in Nashville, and we've got engine trouble. Would you have a toolbox I could borrow?"
    "Sure!"
    Dinah cocked a brow at him. Lurieen. Edna. Bethesda. He was enjoying himself.
    With a friendliness honed by rural self-reliance, the young woman stepped gracefully down the porch steps and headed toward a work shed. "Come on. I'll show you where my husband keeps things. Sam had to go to Nashville to buy some cattle and he won't be back until tomorrow. Sam Chase. And I'm Laurie. Nice to meet you. 'Scuse me if I waddle. I'm due in about two weeks,"
    Dinah and Rucker shared a strained look as they followed her. "Aren't you nervous way out here alone, with your baby about to be born?" Dinah asked.
    Laurie used the toe of her tennis shoe to nudge a fat red hen out of their way. "Nah. Doctor says I shouldn't have any trouble."
    "Aren't you goin' to a hospital?" Rucker asked.
    "We're a little short of money for that. Besides, the hospital's two hours from here. My husband was born to this house. It's got sentiment to it."
    They went into a small, neatly kept shed. She pointed to a tool chest. "There you go," she told Rucker.
    "Thank you, ma'am."
    He hoisted the chest and carried it outside. Guileless and curious, Laurie Chase smiled at Dinah. "If y'all want to stay awhile, I'll fix you a meal."
    "We can pay," Dinah said quickly. "We don't want to impose."
    "Hush. I'm happy to have company. Let's go in the house while your man works on the truck. You can help me cook."
    She held out a hand, her eyes honest and sweet. Such innocence, Dinah thought sadly. She took the girl's hand and squeezed it. "That sounds good."
    "I warn you, all I talk about is my baby."
    Dinah smiled at her. "Me, too."
    ***
    They sat by a window in the Chase's big, homey kitchen and peeled potatoes. Dinah watched Rucker work on the truck's engine. He occasionally took a swig from the cup of coffee she'd taken out to him.
    "That's a good-lookin' stud hoss you got there," Laurie observed. "Bet he gave you a good baby."
    Dinah bit her lip to keep from smiling at the girl's earthy description of Rucker. "He certainly did."
    "Bet you hated to leave her with a sitter. I bet you miss her. Even for a few days. I bet you can't hardly stand it."
    "Yes."
    "I'm sorry. I can see from your face that I upset you. Ouch!"
    Dinah looked up quickly. "Are you all right?"
    The girl put a hand on her lower back. Her eyes widened. "That's the fourth time that's happened today. Like a weird kind of cramp. I shouldn't have carried so much firewood this morning."
    Dinah excused herself and went outside. Rucker bent under the truck's hood, an array of hand tools spread around him. He was immediately aware of her; she could tell from the subtle tightening of his body. His wariness was both physical and emotional.
    Ousting wind from a cloud-covered sky ruffled his hair, and his hands were greasy. His face was drawn with fatigue, and beard stubble covered his jaw, but somehow those things only made him more appealing. She knew that the rugged exterior hid depths of tenderness and passion. This was a man who would never let her see him cry over his own pain but who had once cried bitterly over hers.
    Dinah stood beside him a second, watching him hungrily, inhaling the not unpleasant scents of oil, mountain air, and masculine sweat.
    He finally glanced at her. "I'm hurryin', but it'll be a while."
    "We can't leave right away. The girl's going into labor."
    Rucker whacked his head on the truck's hood as he straightened up. "What?"
    "I think she's going into labor. So don't hurry to fix the truck."
    He gazed at her with a mixture of bewilderment and something else, something that made her chest swell with hope. "Rucker, I'm still the person who moves turtles out of the road so they won't get run over. I haven't become an ogre."
    "You look exhausted. You gonna take on a stranger's problems, too?"
    "Just this one's." Dinah gestured vaguely and