“So, did you find out I’m not a serial killer?” He leaned against the car, trying to shield himself from the biting wind.
“Just barely. My parents didn’t recognize your name. But my brother, Daniel, knew who you were. So I guess you’re all right.”
Daniel. The name rang a bell, but he couldn’t connect it with a face. “I’ve looked at the car,” he said. “It’ll need to be towed out, probably in the morning. Is anyone coming to get you?”
She sighed. “My dad has poor night vision. He’d never make it here in the storm. Daniel and my mom don’t drive. So I guess I’m stuck, unless—”
“Unless I give you a ride home.” Conner finished the sentence for her.
“I’m sorry, I know it’s an imposition—”
“No, it’s fine. This truck can go anywhere. Do you need to get anything out of the car?”
“Two suitcases. They’re in the trunk. My name is Megan, by the way. Megan Carson.” She reached down and pulled the trunk release. Conner lifted out the two bags and put them in the backseat of the cab. He was fine with driving her home. From what he’d seen of her, it was hard to tell what she looked like. But he couldn’t help being intrigued.
He was holding out for his dream woman to show up at the ball, he reminded himself. But if there was an attractive new female in town, why not get to know her?
After all, what did he have to lose?
* * *
Megan closed the window and turned off the ignition. Unlocking the door, she tried to shove it open. She managed to push it about halfway before a wind gust slammed it shut against her shoulder, the sound of it like a thunderclap in the darkness.
“Here, come on.” Her rescuer appeared in a swirl of snow, opening the door and holding it against the wind. Megan took the gloved hand he offered, clasping it as he guided her through the blinding storm to his truck and held the door while she climbed inside. The hood of his parka kept his face in shadow. So far, all she knew about him was that he was strong, had a masculine voice, and cared enough to help a stranded woman on a stormy night.
He took her keys and disappeared in the direction of her car, probably to make sure it was locked. Moments later, he reappeared on the driver’s side of the truck, brushing the snow off the windshield and side window before he opened the door and handed her the keys. In the brief flicker of the dome light that came on, she glimpsed blue eyes below the hood of the parka—the bluest eyes she had ever seen.
He closed the door, pulled off his gloves, and pushed back his hood. The knitted cap he wore underneath hid his hair. Megan stole a glance as he fastened his seat belt. In profile, his face was handsome in a clean-cut, chiseled way. But what was she thinking? She wasn’t looking for a boyfriend, or even a date. And a man as good-looking as Conner Branch was bound to have a wife, or at least a steady girl.
“Where to?” He started the truck.
She gave him her parents’ address. “It’s just a couple of blocks off Main Street. You shouldn’t have any trouble finding it. Not in a little boondocks town like this one.”
“Boondocks?” He chuckled, his laughter deep and warm. “You sound like a city girl.” He steered carefully onto the highway. “Am I right?”
“Close enough. I teach school in Nashville. I arranged to take Christmas leave early to give my family some extra help.”
“A teacher, hmm? I might’ve guessed that. What gra
de?”
“Kindergarten.”
“Like it?”
“I do. For now.” Megan stopped herself. She’d learned the hard way not to talk about her other career, the one she really wanted. People who learned her secret tended to forget about Megan Carson. Lacy Leatherwood was so much more fascinating—even though Lacy wasn’t real.
Chapter 2
As the truck left the highway and turned onto Main Street, Megan gazed up at the old-fashioned Christmas lights. Through the blur left by the thumping windshield wipers, the colors that reflected off the flying snow were strangely beautiful, like a Christmas scene done in glowing watercolor.
“What was that address again?” Conner asked.
Megan told him. “Thanks again for the ride. If you hadn’t come along, I’d still be stranded in my car.”
“Then I’m glad I came along. I still can’t believe your parents didn’t know who I was.”
So, who are you? Megan bit back the barbed question. The man clearly had an ego. Maybe he was some kind of local celebrity. But ego or not, he had just saved her from a cold, miserable night. The least she could do was be civil.