“Dallas,” Sarah answered, not sure why she was answering. “I’m Sarah. Do you know where I’m supposed to be going?”
“I think that’s Elijah’s new place, isn’t it, Dwaine?”
“Who knows what that girl’s doing.”
“Girl?” Sarah asked, lost to the conversation.
“Elijah Wilson, sweetie.” Ginger patted Sarah’s hand gently. “Do you want some tea? Goodness, you’re drenched to the bone.”
“It’s raining pretty hard, ma’am.” For some reason, the tension in her stomach eased. Normally it would have been the opposite, but something about Ginger’s demeanor calmed her in ways she hadn’t felt since she’d met Kara. Jesus, she was going to have call Kara and tell her all of this as soon as her phone was charged enough to turn on. She’d laugh her ass off.
Ginger got up and poured Sarah a glass of iced tea, and when Sarah took a sip, she had to work hard not to grimace. It literally looked like dirty water, and it tasted like it, too. She set the cup on the table, hoping she didn’t have to drink the entire thing before they told her where she was going.
Dwaine stepped outside and came back in suddenly. “You drove here in that?”
“Yes?” Sarah asked.
“Surprised you made it past the creek.”
“The what?”
“If it wasn’t filled up when you drove here, I’m sure it’s filled up now.”
“You’ll need a truck to get out, sweetie.” Once again, Ginger’s hand was on hers.
“Oh.”
Ginger gave her a small smile. “I’ll call Elijah and see if she can come out here and round you up, all right?”
“Sure.”
Sarah felt helpless. Never in her life had she been the one to need rescuing—at least, she hoped she wasn’t. She hated being such a damsel in distress and had worked for years to avoid any image of that at all. As Ginger moved toward the phone nailed to the wall, Sarah gave herself a moment to look around the room.
The kitchen was quaint and small. Dwaine had finally left the house, and she was alone with Ginger, which put her way more at ease. As Ginger talked into the phone, Sarah gnawed on her lip and reached for the tea. Better to drink dirty water than to gnaw so much on her lip that it was raw by dawn.
She was halfway through the glass when Ginger sat down with her, a smile on her lips that Sarah couldn’t read. Reading people was not her strong suit, which was also a reason she pretty much stuck to home and what she knew when she could and why she kept the people around her very close.
“Elijah said she’ll be right over. She was already in town looking for you, I guess.”
“How far is town from here?”
“Ten minutes. We’re south. Her place is about twenty minutes northwest of town.”
“Oh, so I’m really not where I thought I was.”
Ginger chuckled and shook her head. “No, sweetie. Sorry to say you’re not. You’re lucky it’s calving season, otherwise we wouldn’t have been awake.”
“Lucky for me,” Sarah muttered as she twisted the glass between her fingers. She could only hope she wouldn’t have to wait too much longer for the elusive Elijah to show up. The tension that had eased from her belly didn’t build back up, but it also knew wasn’t easing any further. She’d just have to wait and see how the next two weeks went. She could always leave.
* * *
The call from the Hargraves had been a surprise, but Eli was glad she’d answered when it came in. She had been worried for a moment that something had happened to Dwaine and she’d have to help Mrs. Hargrave with the farm. She’d helped them out before when he’d been in the hospital for surgery once or twice, and while she didn’t mind doing it short term, she didn’t want to do it permanently.
Eli drove as fast as she felt was safe through the rain and down to the turnoff. The Hargraves lived ten minutes south of town, which was far beyond where she thought anyone would get lost. Their road only had their house on it, which meant it was easy to find in the pitch black.
The storm overhead was passing when she turned onto their dirt road. The rain eased up so it was a gentle fall, and as she turned east, she could see the lightning off in the distance rather than right on top of them. She’d have to be sure to check on all her cattle, but at least it was a rainstorm instead of a snowstorm, although the temperatures outside were near freezing. If it dropped much lower, they’d be dealing with ice in the morning.
She hit the creek bed that ran through their property and gunned her truck through it. The water splashed up then disappeared into the pitch-black night. Exhaustion settled in on her shoulders, and she closed her eyes briefly, wishing she was in her bed and sleeping. Rather, she was going to grab her newest guest and take her to the house before immediately setting back out to check on her cows again. Calving season was a bitch.