Silent Run

for the map sticking out of her purse, then cursed when her bag tumbled to the floor.   Keeping one eye on the highway, she grabbed for the map and had barely straightened when the road suddenly curved.   A silver horse trailer was stopped on the side of the road, and she was heading right for it.   She hit the brakes in panic, but she was going too fast, and she was too close, far too close...
    Twisting the wheel to the right as hard and as fast as it would go, she prayed for a miss. The car spun, kicking up gravel and dust. She hung on, urging the car to go to the side, to miss the trailer. She was almost there. She could see the shoulder of the road in front of her, and the deep drainage ditch. Damn! It was her last thought before the car slid headfirst into the gully off the side of the road.
    Her head bounced off the steering wheel and she saw a kaleidoscope of colors in front of her eyes. Her ears rang with the sound of bells and horses and swearing.
    Katherine shook her head, trying to figure out where she was and who was yelling at her. There was a man -- a tall, dark-haired man with burning black eyes -- standing next to her window. He was pulling on the door handle and yelling all sorts of absurdities that seemed to have less to do with her and more to do with a horse.
    She roused herself enough to unlock the door. She pushed on it as the man pulled on it, sending her stumbling into his arms. He caught her with a sureness, a strength, that made her want to sink into his embrace and rest for a moment. She needed to catch her breath.
    "You could have killed my horse," he ground out angrily, his rough-edged voice right next to her ear. "Driving like a maniac. What the hell were you thinking about?"
    She could barely keep up with his surge of angry words. "Let me go."
    His grip eased slightly, but he didn't let go.
    They stared at each other, their breaths coming in matching frightened gasps. Dressed in faded blue jeans and a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up to the forearms, the man towered over Katherine. His eyes were fierce, and his thick dark hair looked like he'd run his fingers through it all day long. His face was too rugged to be handsome, but it was compelling, strong, stubborn, determined...
    Good heavens -- she had the distinct feeling she'd just found herself a cowboy.
    "Rogue's okay," a man called from the road.
    She turned in confusion, unaware there was someone else on the earth, much less on the road. The man in front of her seemed to take up so much space.
    "I'll be there in a second. Keep talking to him," the man called back, his gaze still resting on Katherine's face, his hands still holding her arms. "Are you all right?"
    It seemed a little late to be asking, and a burst of anger tried to push past her lips, but before she could speak, she realized something wet was dripping down her face. She touched her forehead, drawing away drops of blood. "Oh, my God! I'm bleeding."
    "It's just a scratch," he replied.   "The windshield shattered, but most of the glass stayed intact." He let go of her long enough to reach into the car and pull out the napkins she'd picked up at the Dairy Queen. Instead of handing them to her, he dabbed at the blood on her face with a surprisingly gentle hand.   "I don't see any glass. It's really just a small cut.   Anything else hurt?"
    Aside from a dull ache in her forehead, the rest of her body seemed to be all right. "I'm okay. But what were you thinking -- parking in the middle of the road like that?" she demanded.
    "We're well off to the side. My horse was getting restless. I needed to quiet him down. And it was working, until you bore down on us like a bat out of hell. You could have killed us!"
    "And you could have stopped at a better place." She raised her voice to match his. "Coming around that curve, I couldn't possibly see you until the last minute."
    "Not when you're doing sixty."
    "More like forty. And this is a highway, you know, not -- not a rest stop for horses."
    "This is horse country, and around here the horses come first."
    "Yeah, well, why don't you go back to your horse then?"
    "I think I'll do that." He strode away, his gait as brisk as his voice, and while she'd wanted him to go, now that he'd gone, she felt strangely lost.
    Focusing on him had been far easier than looking at the rental car tilted awkwardly into a ditch. She had no idea if it would run, even if she could get it out. Suddenly it was all too much, and she