Chapter 2

Shayna had been navigating the rugged terrain for what felt like an eternity, the sturdy frame of her off-road van rumbling steadfastly beneath her. She leaned forward, peering through the rain-spattered windshield, straining to discern any hint of the road ahead.

The weather had taken a turn for the worse since she left the airport. What had begun as a gentle mist had escalated into a torrential downpour, the rain pelting against the van's reinforced windows with relentless force. The mist, thick and impenetrable, clung to the landscape like a shroud, obscuring Shayna's view and turning the already challenging journey into a perilous ordeal.

Despite the van's robust construction, Shayna couldn't shake the feeling of unease that gnawed at her insides. The headlights struggled to pierce through the gloom, casting feeble beams of light into the murky abyss ahead. With each passing mile, the road became increasingly treacherous. Potholes lurked beneath the surface, hidden by pools of standing water, threatening to swallow the van whole if Shayna's concentration wavered for even a moment.

She reached for the radio dial, hoping to catch an update on the weather, but all that greeted her ears was the static-laden chatter of a talk show discussing cowboys and ranchers herding their cattle. Frustration crept into Shayna's thoughts as she twisted the dial, attempting to tune into a weather report, but the voices dissolved into crackling static before fading away entirely.

With a resigned sigh, Shayna focused on the road ahead, her gaze fixed on the frosted windshield as she fumbled to activate the defroster. The cold seeped into the cabin of her van, and Shayna's breath formed misty clouds in the frigid air. As the defroster roared to life, the windshield slowly cleared, revealing the tell-tale signs of impending snowfall—tiny flakes swirling in the dim glow of the headlights.

Shayna cursed under her breath, berating herself for not heeding the warnings of the cold weather before embarking on her impromptu journey. She had been driving for what felt like an eternity, the mountain town of Rocky Ridge still looming in the distance like a distant mirage on the horizon.

"You're crazy, Shayna. Leaving town for a while isn't going to make Erik go away," Emily had exclaimed when Shayna had informed her about her departure on a business trip. "If he could find you every time you moved, he can still find you anywhere you go."

Shayna met Emily's concerned gaze with a determined one of her own. "No, he can't. All his contacts are here. He has no ties outside of the city. He won't be able to trace me without the help of his allies," she insisted. "That's precisely why I have to go. I'll be staying longer than planned, but it's for the best. And you won't breathe a word of my whereabouts. That man is insane, capable of anything."

Emily sighed, her worry etched deep into her features. "I just don't want you to get hurt, Shayna. You know I'll support you no matter what, but please promise me you'll be careful."

Shayna reached out, squeezing Emily's hand reassuringly. "I promise, Em. I'll be careful. And I'll keep in touch. You're the only one I trust with this."

Shayna strained to catch the weather update amidst the crackling static, her heart sinking as the male voice faded once again. She twisted the knob in frustration, desperate for any shred of detail to guide her through the worsening storm, but all she encountered was a wall of interference.

The wind speed was heavier now and she could feel her van being jostled on the road. The sleet was coming down and making it very difficult to see the road ahead. The grass on the side of the road was blown flat by the heavy gale-force winds. She could feel the van lurching and swaying, its metal frame groaning in protest against the onslaught of wind and weather. Fear gnawed at her insides as she struggled to maintain control, the narrow highway offering no refuge from the storm's wrath.

The decision to pull over and wait out the tempest tugged at Shayna's mind, but she dismissed it as quickly as it arose. There was nowhere safe to stop, no shelter from the storm's fury. She had long abandoned the familiar four-lane highway, finding herself now lost in a labyrinth of narrow rural roads, hemmed in by fields and farmland.

“F***!” Shayna swore as a sudden bang echoed through the van, followed by a violent jerk of the steering wheel that sent Shayna's heart plummeting into her stomach. Instinctively, she slammed on the brakes, but the wheels locked on the icy surface, sending the van careening into a wild skid.

Panic surged through Shayna as she fought to regain control, but it was futile. The van spun wildly out of her grasp, hurtling toward an inevitable collision with the unforgiving landscape. In that moment of chaos, Shayna could only brace herself for the impact.

"Oh my God!" Dayton Radisson exclaimed, his voice echoing against the barren landscape as he crested the rise on the road and caught sight of the gray van buried in the ditch below. With a determined set to his jaw, he eased his pickup truck off to the side of the narrow highway and reached for his flashlight.

In the dim glow of the beam, Dayton surveyed the scene, his mind racing with possibilities. Perhaps the van had been abandoned, left by its owner until the weather cleared enough for retrieval. But Dayton couldn't ignore the nagging concern that someone might be trapped inside, stranded and vulnerable to the elements.

He couldn't simply pass by without investigating. What if someone was injured, unable to call for help? Dayton shuddered at the thought of someone freezing to death alone in the desolate wilderness. Bits of ice and snow hit him straight in his face as soon as he stepped out of the shelter of the warm truck. Dayton cursed the weather as he lowered the brim of his cowboy hat lower onto his forehead.

With a sense of urgency, he made his way down the embankment, the crunch of gravel beneath his boots the only sound breaking the silence of the night. The van had gone into the ditch nose first and the back seat was stacked with suitcases.

‘Someone was surely far away from home,’ he thought quietly.

Just then, he spotted a head of jet-black hair pressed against the driver’s window.

He knocked frantically on the window. “Hello! Can you hear me?” he shouted.

There was no response. Dayton couldn’t see if the car was locked because the windows were frosted over so he attempted to gently open the door in case the driver was not belted in or hurt. To his dismay, the door was jammed shut, refusing to budge even with his most determined efforts. Dayton cursed under his breath, frustration gnawing at his insides as he wrestled with the stubborn mechanism.

Dayton's heart pounded as he turned back toward his pickup truck, the biting wind whipping at his coat as he trudged through the swirling snow. Reaching the safety of his vehicle, Dayton threw open the door and rummaged through the cluttered interior, his hands fumbling in the dim light of his flashlight. His breath came in ragged gasps as he searched desperately for something—anything—that could help him free the trapped occupant of the van.

Finally, his fingers closed around a sturdy crowbar nestled amidst a jumble of tools and equipment. With a triumphant shout, Dayton seized the crowbar and slammed the door shut behind him, determined to make quick work of the van's stubborn door.

Returning to the stranded van, Dayton braced himself against the biting cold and set to work, the crowbar clutched tightly in his hands. With a grunt of effort, he wedged the metal tool into the narrow gap between the door and the frame, exerting all his strength in an attempt to pry it open.

But the door remained steadfast, refusing to yield to Dayton's efforts. Frustration welled up inside him as he redoubled his efforts, the howling wind drowning out his curses as he struggled against the relentless cold. Finally, after what seemed like eons, he felt it give way.

Shayna was hit by the icy blast of wind and sleet as the door to the van swung open, the wetness stinging against her face like a slap of reality. For a moment, she thought she must be dreaming. She felt a hand on her forehead, strong and calloused, its scent mingling with the sharp tang of snow. Slowly, she opened her eyes, blinking against the brightness of the flashlight.

Before her stood a shadowy figure, his features obscured by the darkness and the glare of the flashlight. She could make out the stern set of his jaw and the deep furrows of his brow, but his identity remained a mystery to her.

"What happened? Am I in trouble?" Shayna asked. The stranger's presence felt imposing, his aura radiating authority.

"It looks like you hit an ice patch and went off the road. Are you hurt?" came the reply, the voice deep and masculine.

Shayna took a ragged breath, her mind racing as she struggled to gather her thoughts amidst the chaos of the storm. She couldn't shake the feeling of unease that settled in the pit of her stomach, the sense that she was in the presence of a stranger whose intentions remained unknown.

"I'm not sure," Shayna replied. She swept her hand across her face, trying to clear her thoughts as she scanned the interior of the van for clues. "I heard a bang, and then... I'm not sure. Did I hit someone? Or something?" Panic surged through her as she sought answers in the stranger's inscrutable expression.

"I didn't see anything else. Just you..." the stranger trailed off.

Shayna's heart hammered in her chest as reality began to sink in. "Is the van damaged?" She fumbled with the seatbelt, her fingers trembling as she attempted to switch on the interior lighting, but to no avail.

Dayton pulled his coat tighter around himself, the icy wind gnawing at his skin as he struggled to maintain his composure. Despite his efforts, he couldn't help but feel a pang of frustration at Shayna's apparent indifference to their dire situation. This city slicker seemed oblivious to the danger of being caught in the midst of a storm.

“I don’t think that we can check that right now. We can send someone out to check on the van later. Are you injured?” Dayton found himself shouting so she could hear him above the sound of the wind.

The seatbelt suddenly snapped free and Shayna let it slide into place. “I think I am fine,” she said as she tried to get out of the car. “Ouch!” she suddenly exclaimed, “I think I may have hurt my left foot. I cannot stand on it.”

Dayton rolled his eyes, “My truck is just over there. I will take you to a doctor.”

"I don't think it's that bad," Shayna responded. She couldn't shake the feeling of vulnerability that gnawed at her insides, the realization sinking in that she was placing her trust in the hands of a total stranger.

Despite her reservations, Shayna knew she had little choice in the matter. She had learned the hard way that relying on others often led to disappointment, but in this moment of desperation, she had no other options.

This lady sure had an attitude. Dayton was beginning to get impatient now as the snow intensified and the temperature dropped a few notches.

"Listen up, Miss, you're not going to get a tow truck out here in these conditions, so it's no use waiting around. You'll freeze to death in a couple of hours," Dayton asserted. "The Radisson Development is just a couple of miles from here, and we can call a tow truck from there."

Shayna's mind raced as she processed Dayton's words, a glimmer of recognition flickering in the recesses of her memory. The Radisson Development... The name struck a chord …

"The Radisson Development?" she questioned.

Dayton's response was lost on her as he scooped her up in his arms, his movements swift and purposeful. Shayna's breath caught in her throat as she clung to her handbag and coat, her mind whirling with possibilities.

"My development," Dayton explained simply as he carried her across the narrow freeway to his truck.

She winced as the ice pelted her face, sending streaks of pain shooting through her ankle. Shayna could barely make out the stranger's face under the brim of his hat, but she could feel the strength in his chest as he carried her effortlessly.

Settling her onto the bench seat, the stranger moved to the driver's side. Shayna took a moment to collect herself, her mind racing as she examined her injured ankle.

"Does it hurt a lot?" the cowboy asked gruffly.

Looking up, Shayna was momentarily speechless as the dome light flickered on, revealing the face of her rescuer. Her breath caught in her throat as she met his gaze, her heart skipping a beat as she finally recognized him.

The sexy cowboy voice was attached to a face just as captivating. His black eyes sparkled with bits of ice, drawing her in with their intensity. Shayna was so taken aback by his presence that she could only stare, her thoughts a whirlwind of emotions.

For a moment, she was frozen in place, captivated by the sight of him. But as the realization sank in, Shayna felt a rush of warmth flood her cheeks, the cold of the storm suddenly forgotten.

"Dayton?" she whispered, her voice barely audible above the howling wind. She wrapped her arms around herself, suddenly feeling exposed under his intense gaze.