Running Scared by Lisa Jackson

for babies.
    A beat-up once-green pickup lumbered up the drive and Kate recognized it at once. Daegan O’Rourke, the stranger who had fixed her tire, stretched out of the cab and she felt a warning increase in her pulse. Tall and lean, a cowboy type in faded jeans, dusty blue shirt, and rawhide jacket, O’Rourke made his way to the front porch.
    What could he possibly want from her?
    She’d thought of him a couple of times since he’d insisted upon helping her—there had been a raw sexual energy about him, a hidden strength of character that made it impossible for him to take no for an answer. She hadn’t wanted his help, but he’d practically shoved it down her throat, and rather than seeming ungrateful, she’d let him change the damned tire. So what was he doing here? Whatever it was he was peddling, she wasn’t interested. Contrary to popular belief, the last complication she needed in her life was a man.
    As she watched him climb the steps, his boots ringing on the old planks, she noticed the determined cut of his jaw, the blade-thin mouth, the harsh planes of his face. He looked like a man with a mission and she knew instinctively that somehow it involved her.
    Normally she wouldn’t have thought a thing about opening the door to him. Every once in a while someone stopped by to ask for directions or with car trouble, but today, when her nerves were already stretched thin from worries about Jon, she was suspicious, and as he rang the bell, she opened the door but stood on the other side of the screen.
    His eyes met hers through the mesh and a quick smile lighted his face. “So you’re my neighbor.” His voice was a deep drawl, his tanned face all blades and angles honed from hours in the elements. Gray eyes studied her without a trace of warmth. “How about that?”
    “Neighbor?” she repeated.
    Hitching a calloused thumb in the direction of the ranch next door, he said, “I’m renting the McIntyre place.”
    Kate felt a little catch in her breath and told herself she was being silly. She had nothing to fear from this man, no reason not to trust him. He’d helped her, for crying out loud, changed her flat tire. She should be grateful that someone was going to live in Eli’s place and keep it up. Empty buildings often attracted a bad element. But she couldn’t shake the sensation that this man was the last person on earth she wanted living next door. He carried with him no air of satisfaction that usually came with ranching. No, this man was restless; a thrum of energy seemed to hide beneath the tanned skin that stretched over the strong angles of his face.
    All Jon’s talk had unnerved her, that’s all. Relax, Kate. She opened the screen door.
    “How’s the tire?” he asked.
    “Back on the car. I must’ve run over a screw somewhere. George, down at the station, found one lodged in the tread, though I can’t imagine where I picked it up.”
    “So it could be fixed?”
    “Yeah, I guess I lucked out.”
    He hesitated, then rubbed his chin. “I guess it’s my turn to ask a favor,” he said, shifting from one leg to the other. “I’m having a little trouble myself. I was wondering if I could use your phone to call the telephone company. They were supposed to send out a guy this morning, but he never showed.”
    Some of the tension in her muscles drained. You’re losing it, Kate.
    “Sure. I’ll go get it.” She should have just asked him inside, but she was still nervous. Even though he seemed honest enough, she didn’t know him. And there was Jon’s prediction to consider—trouble or danger coming their way. “I’ll just be a minute.” In the kitchen, she picked up the remote, and as she passed by the front closet, she reminded herself that her grandfather’s rifle was tucked in the corner, unloaded, but a weapon nonetheless.
    As if she needed one.
    Face it, Kate, all Jon’s talk has got you wound tighter than a top and now you’re jumping at shadows. Her heart raced a little and