Savannah sobered and nodded.
He radioed for help, but the dispatcher was quick to douse all hope of rescue for a while.
"Sorry Sheriff, Jim's still over in Sweetwater taking that test this weekend, he didn't pass the first one, they let him have a retest, and Martin's probably taking care of his stock. But I'll try to raise him on the radio."
"Thanks, we'll be at the Dugan ranch."
"I'll get right on it."
He gave Savannah his rain slicker from the trunk, and adjusted his Stetson. He wore a light jacket and she knew he was protected almost as well, so she didn't balk about the rain slicker.
Taking her hand in his he led the way. She hadn't expected him to touch her and the contact brought immediate awareness. Sharp, clear awareness that told her she was in over her head this time. However, that awareness simmered as he pulled her through the rain and mud.
His long strides were hard to keep up with, but he kept a firm grip on her hand. When she nearly fell down a slight ravine, he grabbed at her, pulling her close. The intimacy of the act was lost on the pouring rain though. "Try to keep up." He barked.
They walked for what seemed like an hour to Savannah and finally he halted in front of a ranch house.
It was dark, and looked vacant. Was anyone home? Would they help them if they were?
"Where is everyone?" She asked as she glanced about the place.
"It's been abandoned a long time. But we should be able to get in and have some shelter until I can get some help out here."
The door was locked, so he had to bust it open with a hard shove of the shoulder. He let her through and then tried the lights. They didn't work. He grumbled.
"Maybe they have some candles around somewhere?"
"No one's lived here in five years, I doubt there's any emergency supplies. But we shouldn't be here that long. I've used this place many times when the old bridges wash out."
"The bridge washes out?" she repeated.
"Nothing to worry about. It doesn't last long, a day or two at most." He explained.
Through the darkness, she couldn't read his expression, but his voice held some strange sort of tension that rattled her nerves, as well.
The room seemed empty, from the glimpses she got as the lightening split through the small house.
The Sheriff moved and made loud noises, but she couldn't tell what he was doing until the lightening flashed again. Then she saw the small fireplace and he was lighting it.
"How did you light it?" she asked. "I mean you said no one has lived here for a while."
"They left a lot of old newspapers, I guess from packing up and I busted an old three legged chair they had left behind. The fire won’t last long, but we shouldn’t be here that long."
She shivered a little and hugged herself.
When the fire blazed she came forward and warmed herself. Not that it was cold, but being wet made her very uncomfortable.
She saw the frustration and anger on his
face and wished she could erase all the bad impressions she'd made. It was too late for that though. He already had a formed opinion of her and it didn't look as though he'd changed his mind.
"I'm sorry for this," she began as she sat on the floor near the hearth. Her clothes were plastered to her, her hair dripping wet. She tried to dry it a little with her hands.
"Yeah, me too," he nodded and took his hat off.
He ruffled his hair with his big hands and she imagined what it might be like to run her fingers through it. She liked a man with nice hair. She ignored that urge. The less she had to do with the Sheriff the better right now. He was probably blaming her for all of this and she didn't need any more reprimands.
When the room grew too silent he looked at her and suddenly smiled, "I guess you can laugh about it now."