Love Draws Near Read online

  She stood on her tiptoes and scanned the milling crowd. There was Lance. Sitting on a throne, dressed as a prince of old. She remembered her joke of him being the prince of the town. Two could play that game.

  She went to stand in front of him and gave a deep curtsy.

  His gaze studied her. “Do I know you?”

  She shrugged. If she spoke, she’d give away her identity.

  “Ah, the silent type.” He smiled and stood. “I’ll guess who you are before the night is over. Dance with me.” He held out his hand.

  She smiled and slipped hers in his, allowing him to lead her to the dancefloor where a full band played a slow, romantic song. She breathed deep of his cologne. She didn’t want to forget a single thing about the night. Not even his smell.

  When they’d danced through several songs, Lance led her to the buffet table and past people wondering who she was. She almost laughed out loud at the gaping mouths of her step-family. Oh, if they only knew.

  “Since you won’t speak to me,” Lance said leading her to a couple of chairs set apart from the others, “I’ll ask you some yes or no answers. All right?”

  She nodded.

  “Do you live close by?”

  She nodded.

  “Hmmm.” He took a bite of a lemon cookie. “Have you lived here all your life?”

  She nodded, taking a sip of strawberry lemonade laced with champagne.

  “Did you come alone?” His eyes sparkled.

  She nodded. His questions were skirting too close to the truth. She glanced at the clock. Eleven-thirty already?

  Lance followed her gaze. “What’s wrong?”

  She shook her head.

  “Okay.” He grabbed her hand. “Let’s step outside. I could use some fresh air.”

  Outside, she took a deep breath. Cattle lowed in a nearby pasture. The massive horse she’d ridden on with Lance approached them as they strolled toward it’s paddock. Cindy held back, stopping a few feet away. It looked even bigger in the dark.

  Lance leaned against the railing. “Now, my dear. You aren’t dressed as most of the other women, in finery and jewels. Except for that locket around your neck. Does it contain a boyfriend?”

  She shook her head, fingering the locket which contained a picture of her father. Normally, it was tucked out of sight under her clothes.

  “You’re like a deep breath of clean mountain air,” he said.

  “Lance!” Mr. Moore’s voice boomed from the doorway.

  ~

  Grandpa marched toward them. “You shouldn’t spend all your time with one woman. There’s a roomful in there waiting to get to know you better. The unveiling will take place at midnight and you’ll make your choice as to the woman you intend to date.”

  “I’ve told you I won’t.” Lance put out a hand to stop the mysterious woman at his side who tensed as if she were going to bolt. “I’m spending time with…well, I don’t know her name yet.”

  Grandpa’s gaze shifted to her. He glanced at the boots, then the hat. “Clever. Not a bit to be seen that reveals your identity. Still, it’s time for my grandson to mingle.”

  She nodded and raced for the building.

  Lance sighed. Fine. He’d make his grandfather happy and choose the cowgirl at midnight. He couldn’t wait to know her identity. He knew she wasn’t one of Mrs. Hopkins’s daughters. They’d made their identities clear right off. He grinned.

  Afraid of horses. Sparkling green eyes. He knew the name of his silent charmer. He’d thought she hadn’t come, yet here she was as much fun as ever.

  He tried to find her as soon as he entered the building, but found himself thrust into a bevy of eager women all wanting to be the one he chose. He glared at his grinning grandfather’s back.

  All right. Lance would play along for the next ten minutes. He smiled and flirted. Twirling this girl, then that one, all the while looking for the one he really wanted to see. There. By the door. Her gaze settled on him like warm sunshine. He smiled her way, receiving one in return.

  “I know who you are,” he mouthed.

  Her eyes widened, as did her smile.

  “Come here.”

  She shook her head.

  The clock started striking the midnight hour as Lance joined his grandfather on the makeshift stage.

  His masked beauty blew him a kiss, then darted out the door. “No!” He hopped from the stage and gave chase.

  Where was she? He scoured the parking lot. “Cindy!”

  There. An engine. He raced toward the sound, arriving just as her truck pulled off the road leading to his house.

  Why would she leave? Once unmasked, he could shout to the whole town that it was her he wanted. His grandfather could shove his old-fashioned ideas down his throat.

  Lance headed for his own vehicle.

  “Hold it right there.” Grandpa blocked his path. “What on God’s green earth do you think you’re doing?”

  “Going after the one I want. Cindy Hopkins.”

  “You would go against my direct orders?”

  “They’re unreasonable.”

  “If you do, you won’t receive a pebble of this land upon my death.”

  “I don’t need it. I have plenty of money.” He shoved past.

  “You would choose a hillbilly bastard over all this?” Grandpa waved his arm toward the pastures. “All this for a woman?”

  “Have you ever met someone and known they were the one God chose for you?” Somehow, Lance needed to make him understand. “Have you ever loved someone so deeply, even barely knowing them, that everything, everyone, paled in comparison?”

  “Your grandmother. But, Lance, we were from the same side of the tracks. You don’t know what choosing this girl will do for your reputation.”

  “Hang my reputation.” Lance took a deep breath. “No one cares anymore. Really. A person is judged by their character now, not their bloodline. I love you, Grandpa, but I can’t go along with your crazy scheme to find me a wife.”

  “At least come in and finish the night. You know where this girl lives. Will you do that for me? Save me from embarrassment?”

  “Yes.”

  Side-by-side they entered the building together.

  Mrs. Hopkins and her daughters met them. “Mr. Moore, is everything all right?” She glanced from him to Lance.

  “Perfectly fine, my dear.”

  “Well, who has Lance chosen?”

  “The one who got away it seems.” Grandpa grinned. “Come. The band will play for another hour. Let’s enjoy the evening.”

  Mrs. Hopkins cast a sharp glance toward the door as if she knew it was Cindy he’d chosen. Impossible. Lance didn’t know it was her for over an hour.

  “Where is Cindy?” he asked, wanting to divert her attention from suspicion.

  “She was…ill.”

  “Working,” Ana said, stuffing a piece of cake in her mouth. “Mother left a long list of chores.”

  Mrs. Hopkins stomped on her daughter’s foot. “She had a migraine, sweetie. Why would I have her working when she could have come to the ball?”

  “Because, you didn’t want—ow!” Ana rubbed her arm. “I’m going to get something to drink.”

  Natalie obviously knew when to keep her mouth shut. She slipped her arm, uninvited, through Lance’s. “Last dance of the evening.” Her eyes shined through her freckled face.

  “Sure, why not?” Lance led her to the dancefloor and, keeping her at arm’s length, danced the last dance of the evening with a woman he didn’t like.

  Grandpa danced nearby with Mrs. Hopkins. He gave a pleased nod to Lance.

  Lance turned his head. His grandfather had him until one, then Lance was going to Cindy’s. He’d pound on her door until she let him in.

  When the party ended, he stood next to his grandfather and saw the guests out. The Hopkins’ were last.

  Natalie tripped over something in the grass. She held up a red cowboy boot. “Someone lost something.” She handed it to Lance.
r />   He scanned the parking lot. She’d come back and left her boot. Just like a fairy tale. He smiled. Like the prince in that fairy tale, he’d take her the boot and slip it on her foot.

  6

  Cindy couldn’t help going back and leaving her boot. If she was Cinderella for the night, then she would play the part to the hilt. She’d even snuck a peek into the dance, hoping to catch a glimpse of her prince. She hadn’t been able to see him over the guests, but she’d treasure the time they’d spent together for the rest of her life.

  She put her foot on the brake in preparation for the sharp turn ahead. The pedal went all the way to the floor. She gripped the wheel as the truck picked up speed. There was no way she could make the turn at this speed.

  Why hadn’t she chosen a different vehicle the moment she noticed the truck was acting strange? Because it was hers, once her father’s, that’s why. Oh, God, help me. She turned the corner on her two left tires. She didn’t breathe again until the truck was back on all fours.

  That was the easiest of the turns on the mountain. She had steeper hills to go down. Maybe she could choose her own way to wreck. A bendable tree and soft dirt. Something to slow her down enough that the impact wouldn’t be too hard.

  With the next turn, she leaned the opposite direction, hoping, praying, the heavy truck wouldn’t roll. It veered on two tires, teetered, and went over.

  Cindy screamed as the truck rolled down the embankment before finally coming to a stop against a tree. She lay there, barely breathing, then went unconscious.

  Her eyes opened and she groaned. How long had she lain there, hanging upside down in her seatbelt? She pressed the release button and fell to the ceiling, knocking the breath from her lungs again.

  She lay there and assessed the damage. Her head pounded. When she felt her forehead, her fingers came away sticky. Nausea rolled and she threw up.

  Could she make it to the road? Anyone leaving Lance’s party had to come this way. Someone would see the lights of her truck and stop to help. Right? No. The lights were shattered. Cindy was alone in the dark. She had to climb up in order to be rescued.

  She stretched and tried to roll down the window. It wouldn’t budge. The front window was crisscrossed, but hadn’t broken out. She felt around for her boot and used it to smash out the window.

  Glass showered on her head, mixing with her hair and skin. She’d lost her hat somewhere during the roll down the hill. One boot was no better than being barefoot, so she hoisted herself through the window, then lay on what was left of the hood until the spots in front of her eyes disappeared.

  No such luck. She was passing out again.

  ~

  Lance stood in front of Cindy’s dark house and scratched his head. Where was she? He might have thought she was sleeping except for the fact her truck was gone. He turned and headed for the barn.

  Empty, other than for a cow and two horses who looked old enough to be from the Wild West days. Could he have missed her? Passed her somewhere on the road?

  He pulled his cellphone from his pocket and dialed her number. No answer. Not a man prone to worrying unnecessarily, he couldn’t get rid of the niggling that teased at his mind. Something was wrong.

  He dashed to his truck and headed back up the mountain. He drove slower this time, keeping his gaze darting from one side of the road to the other. Guide my steps, Lord.

  A car coming from the other direction honked and slowed.

  Lance stopped.

  “You looking for something?” One of his grandfather’s friends, a Mr. Bradley who owned the feed store, turned on his dome light.

  “A friend. She wasn’t home. I’m hoping she didn’t wreck coming home from the party.”

  “You serve alcohol at that party?”

  “Champagne.” Lance frowned. “She wasn’t drunk if that’s what you’re insinuating.”

  “Just say’n. I’ll keep my eyes peeled. Good luck. If you think she’s out there hurt, you might want to call the sheriff. Get yourself some help in looking.” He rolled slowly forward.

  The man was right. Lance had no proof that something had happened to Cindy, but he couldn’t shake the bad feeling. He dialed the sheriff’s department.

  “This is Lance Moore. I think a friend has driven off Miller’s Mountain,” he told the receptionist. “Could you send someone with a searchlight? It’s dark as pitch out here.”

  “Someone is on the way, Mr. Moore.” She hung up.

  Lance called Cindy again.

  ~

  Her eyes popped open. Her cell phone. Where was it?

  Cindy crawled forward, hanging half-way back into the vehicle. She stretched out her arm. A few inches short. Oh, please, she didn’t want to go back into the truck.

  Tears stung her eyes as she crept forward, falling back amongst the glass and debris. She grabbed her phone. “Hello?”

  “Cindy? Where are you?”

  Her tears came in earnest. “Help me. Please. I’m…I don’t know. Only that I’m off the road. I’m losing conscious again. Hurry.”

  She pressed her eyes closed and tried to will away the dizziness and pain in her head. Lance had gone looking for her. He’d find her. She was safe. She lay her head back and went back to blessed darkness as Lance shouted her name.

  When she woke again, she climbed back out of the window, hissing against the burning in her hands and feet. She could worry about the pain later. This time she made it all the way off the truck before almost passing out. She took deep breaths and slowly got to her feet.

  A vehicle drove slowly past on the road above her.

  “Help! Help me!” She coughed to clear her throat and screamed again.

  The truck stopped. A door slammed. A flashlight beam shined her way.

  “Cindy?”

  “Lance.” Her legs gave way and she slid to the ground. “I’m here.”

  “I’m coming. Hold on.”

  Pebbles rained down on her as he slid down the embankment and fell to his knees beside her. “Oh, sweetheart.” He gathered her in his arms. “I’ve got you. You’re safe. Help is coming.”

  She buried her face in his chest. “My brakes went out.”

  “What?” He sat her up. “Were they acting up before?”

  “A little on the way to the dance, but the truck is old. I thought maybe it just needed some fluid and I could take care of it tomorrow.”

  “Today. It’s almost dawn. Just rest. I’ll call the sheriff’s office again and request an ambulance. That’s a bad knot on your head.”

  He wasn’t telling her anything new. Her head hurt so bad her stomach wouldn’t settle down, not to mention things still looked fuzzy even with the sun coming up. She rested her head against Lance’s shoulder, content to just be. She’d worry about why he was looking for her later.

  She fell asleep again. When she woke multiple vehicles with rotating lights were parked on the road and two men with a stretcher were making their way to her. She didn’t want to leave the comfort of Lance’s arms, but knew the blow to her head had been a hard one. “Lance?”

  “Yes.”

  “See to my truck, will you? My daddy left it to me.”

  “I’ll see what I can do.”

  She gave his hand a squeeze then let the paramedics strap her to the gurney for the trip up the hill to the ambulance. Loneliness assailed her. Anyone but her would have family to call. People who would miss…wait, Lance had missed her. How sad that the one friend she had wasn’t someone she could have a long-term relationship with? Not only because of her past, but because of the animosity his grandfather had toward her. Old habits died hard, and the old folk of the Ozarks sometimes didn’t let go of the old ways.

  ~

  Lance made arrangements for a tow-truck to tow Cindy’s vehicle to his mechanic, then called to let his grandfather know where he was.

  “I was getting worried. I heard on the scanner that there was a bad wreck going down the mountain.”

  “Cindy Hopkins’s brak
es failed. She went off the road. I found her and called for an ambulance. I’ll be home later. I’m going to the hospital now.”

  Grandpa sighed. “I know we came to a truce about this girl, but I really wish you wouldn’t get too attached.”

  “She isn’t a dog!” Lance closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Go to sleep, Grandpa. I’ll be home later.”

  “I’ll phone her family and let them know what happened.”

  “Thank you.” Lance hung up, turned the key in his truck’s ignition, and headed for the hospital. Hopefully, the staff would have Cindy in a room where he could visit.

  He banged on the window of the gift shop until the woman inside opened early, bought the largest vase of flowers they had, then headed for the ER side of the hospital. Amazing what the power of money could do. All he did was mention his name and they told him immediately which room Cindy was in.

  Normally, Lance didn’t use his name or money to get his way, but this time it involved someone he cared about. He’d use what he could.

  He stopped in the doorway of room 212 and peered inside.

  Cindy lay in the bed, a bandage around her head, and her skin as pale as the sheets she lay on. He stepped inside and set the vase on the ledge near the window before pulling up the only chair in the room so he could sit.

  He picked up the hand without the IV and gently rubbed his thumb over her skin. He exhaled sharply and locked his gaze on her face. Still lovely, even injured, even with bruises already appearing and multiple cuts scabbing over.

  “You’re lucky to be alive,” he whispered.

  “Yes.” Her eyes flickered open. “Thank you. Why were you looking for me?”

  “Because I want to date you. I want to see if there can be more between us.”

  “Your grandfather…”

  “We’ve come to an understanding.” He squeezed her hand. “Say yes, Cindy.”

  She closed her eyes. A tear escaped down her cheek. “We can never be more than friends, Lance. We shouldn’t even be that.”

  “It’s the medication talking.” No. She couldn’t be refusing him.

  “It isn’t.” She opened her tear-filled eyes. “You need to find a woman worthy of your name. I know that’s an old-fashioned idea, but around here…well, people will look at you differently.”