Free Never Too Late by RaeAnne Thayne Page B

reports on the one station I’ve been able to get and they’re saying it’s snowing hard between Farmington and Albuquerque and the Weather Service has issued a travel advisory.”
    Damn. So much for his plans to reach Albuquerque that night—or his hopes of outmaneuvering the storm by heading south. He had to hope this wasn’t a grim precursor of what was to come on this trip.
    “I guess we’d better stop in Shiprock for the night. Pull over and I’ll drive from here.”
    She slanted him a quick, amused look before turning her attention back to the road. “Why? I’m perfectly comfortable driving in snow.”
    But he wasn’t comfortable with her driving in snow. It was irrational, he knew, as from what he could see she was handling his SUV just fine.
    She wasn’t exactly driving at a snail’s pace but her speed didn’t seem at all excessive for conditions. She had engaged the on-demand four-wheel drive, he noted, and she seemed very competent behind the wheel.
    She was a doctor. No doubt her hands were probably capable of all kinds of things.
    The thought reminded him of that damn vivid dream, of those hands caressing him, reaching for him….
    Hunter pushed the memory aside quickly.
    “We should keep an eye out for a hotel, since it looks like we’re starting to hit civilization.”
    They discovered as they drove slowly through town that Shiprock had very little in the way of overnight lodging. At last, almost at the outskirts, they stumbled past a small two-story hotel with a neon Vacancy sign out front. Underneath it was an even more encouraging message—Pets Welcome.
    Kate pulled a U-turn in the deserted street. The Jeep slid a little as she made the turn but she expertly maneuvered out of the skid and pulled up in front of the modest brown brick building.
    The parking lot was crowded with vehicles. His heart sank until he remembered that Vacancy sign out front.
    “Wait here. I’ll see what they have,” Hunter said.
    Kate nodded and he climbed out, relieved that any lingering effects from that dream had expired.
    The lobby was pleasant but impersonal. The only bright spots were a striking woven Navajo rug hanging behind the front desk, a homely Christmas tree that looked like some kind of juniper gleaming cheerfully in one corner, and a sign that read Happy Holidays and what he assumed was the same sentiment in another language, undoubtedly Navajo.
    The clerk was about forty with a round, cheerful face and smooth black hair that reached past her hips. She looked frazzled but still managed a smile as he approached the desk.
    “You’re in luck,” she said in response to his request. “You’ll be taking my last two rooms. Usually this time of year we’re pretty empty but I guess you’re not the only ones looking to get out of the snow today. Don’t blame you a bit. Looks like a bad one out there.”
    He let out the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. At least they wouldn’t have to share a room. He wasn’t sure if his taut nerves could handle that. After nine hours in the car with her, he desperately craved a little distance to regain his much-needed control.
    He handed over his credit card. As he waited for her to process it, his gaze shifted out the window. While he had been speaking to the clerk, another vehicle had pulled up behind his SUV and, out of habit, Hunter automatically catalogued the make and the model and the occupants—a woman and what looked like two small children, in a late-model extended-cab pickup truck with a sleeper shell, Utah plates.
    The woman lumbered out and rocked her torso back and forth on her hips for a moment, her hands pressed to the small of her back. As soon as she turned, he realized why the need to stretch. She looked at least eight months pregnant and even from here he could see the fatigue and discomfort in her features.
    She walked inside the hotel lobby shaking off the snow that had collected on her parka just in the short distance between