Baby, Drive South (10 page)

She lifted the hem of her shirt to tap a phone clipped to the waist of her pants. Porter was riveted by the glimpse of a flat stomach and nipped waist.

“I was planning to drive down the mountain until I get cell service.”

“We have a cell tower here and coverage from several carriers.”

She grimaced. “It’s my phone— I’ve been having trouble with the antennae, so I don’t have much range.”

“You’re welcome to use my phone,” he said, wondering who she needed to call. A colleague? A boyfriend? A taxi?

“Thanks, but I need to check my text messages, too…and my email. Never mind. I’ll borrow a car from one of the girls.”

Porter’s mind raced. If Nikki left Sweetness, would she just keep driving? That seemed like a good possibility. He pulled at his chin, then brightened.

“I have an idea, little lady doc. Come with me.”

11

N
ikki was apprehensive about following Porter Armstrong anywhere, but curiosity got the better of her. So she followed him out a side door into the June morning sun, but hung back while he awkwardly climbed on what looked like a riding lawnmower, one of the all-terrain vehicles he and his brothers had been riding yesterday. He settled on the seat and stashed his crutches next to his injured foot, then looked up and patted the space on the seat behind him.

“Jump on.”

Nikki hesitated. “Where are we going?”

He grinned. “To get you a cell phone signal.”

Her pulse jumped crazily at that smile. The man was too good-looking for her own good. But she didn’t have to worry about being here long enough to fall for Porter Armstrong—she was leaving as soon as her van was repaired.

“Are you sure you can drive with your leg injured?”

“No problem. The controls are on the handlebars.”

“What about helmets?”

He seemed momentarily irritated, but turned and lifted the rear of the seat to reveal a storage compartment and removed two helmets, extending one to her.

Nikki conceded she’d run out of excuses…and it did look kind of fun. And she was eager to make a couple of phone calls. She took the helmet and pulled it down on her head as she moved to climb onto the four-wheeler. She straddled the seat behind him, looking for a handhold.

“Just hang on to me,” he said over his shoulder.

And before she could argue, he’d started the engine and goosed the gas. She put her arms around his waist out of self-preservation as the ATV lurched forward.

But she had to admit having her arms around his external abdominal oblique muscles wasn’t unpleasant.

He steered off the mulched trail then headed into the woods, following a rocky path barely wide enough for one car to navigate. On both sides, the trees were tall and the underbrush was thick. The temperature was a few degrees cooler under the canopy of leaves.

He turned his head. “Having fun?” he called over the hum of the engine.

“So far,” she responded, some part of her unwilling to admit she was enjoying the unbridled freedom of having the wind on her face.

Earthy aromas of grass, moss and soil filled her lungs as they ascended at a steady elevation. As gravity pulled at her, she tightened her grip around Porter’s waist, conscious of the thin layer of cotton between the warm skin of his flat belly and her hands.

They rode for about twenty minutes before slowing and leveling onto a clearing. Ahead Nikki recognized the supports of a water tower—no doubt the one she’d seen from the road when driving into Sweetness.

The one from which Porter had taken his spill.

He pulled the four-wheeler to a halt, then turned off the engine. Nikki climbed off first and removed her helmet, then helped Porter find his footing and arrange his crutches.

“Back to the scene of the crime,” he joked.

She tipped her head back to see the top of the water tower through the trees. “How far up were you when you fell?”

“All the way to the top.”

She shook her head in wonder. “You’re lucky you didn’t break your neck.”

He grinned. “I know.”

For some reason, she thought of the man’s mother and felt a pang of sympathy for her. How many times had Porter escaped serious injury when he was younger and flashed that same heart-bending grin?

He gestured to the phone at her waist. “See if you have service now.”

She pulled out her phone and was gratified to see two bars out of five…then it dropped back to one. Her “message waiting” indicator was zero. “I have some reception, let me try to make a call.” She punched the button to dial into her voice mail, but the call failed. She tried two more times, with the same result.

“The signal isn’t strong enough for a call to connect, much less check my email.” She gave him a little smile. “But it was nice of you to bring me up here to try. Guess I’ll be driving down.”

He pursed his mouth. “Or you could go up.”

Nikki lifted an eyebrow. “You mean climb the water tower?”

“Are you afraid of heights?”

“Not really.”

“Then you’re bound to get a better signal up on the platform.” His blue eyes danced. “I promise the view alone is worth the effort.”

Nikki bit her lip and considered the climb. The last thing she needed was to fall, too. “Is it safe?”

“As long as you take it slow.” He looked sheepish. “I saw your caravan coming and got in too big of a hurry to get back to town.”

“I saw you up there,” she said. “When we were driving in.”

“You did?”

Nikki nodded, then tipped her head back and shielded her eyes from the sun dodging in and out of the treetops. She’d been a city girl all her life, so there was something irresistibly charming about the thought of climbing a water tower. She would be leaving this place soon—why not take back one exciting memory? “I’m up for it.”

The smile he gave her warmed her to her toes. It was as if she’d passed some kind of test. He walked with her to the base of the ladder, coaching her. “About every twenty feet is an extrawide ladder rung you can stop and sit on if you need to rest.”

“Okay.”

“Once you get to the top, be extra careful stepping off the ladder onto the platform.”

“Okay.”

“And don’t worry. If you fall, I’ll be right here to catch you.”

She gave him and his crutches a withering look. “Right.”

“I’ll boost you up,” he said, pointing to the bottom rung that was just out of her reach.

“I think I can get it,” she said, then jumped to clasp the metal rung.

Nikki pulled herself up, and quickly realized she didn’t have the upper body strength to get to the next rung. Just when she was afraid her arms were going to give out, a firm hand lodged under her butt and gave her a push. Having his hand in a private place was a shock to her system and her first instinct was to protest, but she couldn’t deny she needed his help. So she just reached for the next rung and scrambled up until her feet caught and she could support herself. Nikki climbed a few steps up the ladder and when she started to feel more stable, she glanced down to see Porter waving and smiling.

“Take your time,” he called through cupped hands. “I’ll just hang out down here and commune with nature.”

She kept climbing, taking a break about halfway. It was a surreal feeling being among the majestic trees as the wind sent branches swaying and leaves dancing. She wondered what kind of trees they were. The frothy evergreens were easy to distinguish, but she knew there were as many different kinds of evergreens as there were bones in the human body. Her head was full of facts from medical tomes, but she knew next to nothing about nature. She had no idea what kinds of birds were swooping between limbs, what kinds of insects were singing back and forth.

Nikki was struck by the empty sensation of having an incomplete education.

“You okay up there?” Porter called.

She looked down and gave him a thumbs-up, then continued climbing until she reached the platform of the enormous white water tower. Heeding his words of caution, she moved carefully from the ladder to the floor of the metal platform, exhaling in relief at being on firm footing again.

The water tower was enormous, shaped like a time-release capsule on its end, with a metal hat on top. It appeared to have been newly whitewashed, and she could only imagine the layers of paint underneath. She placed her hand on the metal tank, still cool on this side shaded from the sun, and marveled at the strength and history of the structure. Nikki followed the chest-high handrailing around to the front of the tower that faced the valley and inhaled sharply at the panoramic sight before her.

She hadn’t known so many different colors of green existed. Mountain ranges in the distance were covered with thick foliage that moved in waves reminiscent of the ocean as the wind whipped over the landscape, circling back to the water tower. Her fine hair was pulled loose from its ponytail holder, sending the stray strands dancing around her face. She lifted her face toward the sun and inhaled deeply, registering how fresh the air was at this height—unpolluted and further cleansed by natural filters like grass and leaves. It was an intoxicating perfume.

Beneath her, the wooded terrain fell away from the water tower to the floor of the gorge where the road leading into Sweetness was a man-made black band cutting through the seemingly impenetrable expanse of red soil. From here, Porter Armstrong had surely had a good vantage point to see the caravan of cars arriving.

A movement on the handrail caught her attention. The tails of a blue denim work shirt folded over the handrail were being teased by the wind. Her mind went to the bare torso of Porter when she’d first seen him yesterday—this must be his shirt. She could picture him trying to catch a breeze after his climb, ridding himself of the garment. Nikki lifted it from the handrail. The cotton was softly worn, still a little damp from last night’s rain before being dried in the morning sun.

She pulled the neck of the shirt to her nose—it still smelled of his manly scent. The pleasant association sent a tug of longing to her midsection that surprised her in its intensity.

Then Nikki realized her phone was vibrating.

Remembering why she’d made the climb in the first place, she removed the phone from its clip. The reception signal was strong and two-way arrows indicated voice mail and email messages were being delivered to her inbox. Nikki was bemused at how relieved she felt at being reconnected to the outside world. She’d never considered herself dependent on technology, but coming to this remote town had made her feel so incredibly lonely. Being cut off from everything familiar had only exacerbated the feeling.

Her heart hammered as she dialed in to pick up her voice mail. Had Darren called? Had he discovered she’d left Broadway and realized how much he loved her? Was he sorry for breaking her heart? Would he beg her forgiveness and ask her to come back?

No
. She listened to the voice messages—most of them having to do with shutting off utilities for her apartment—with an increasing sense of disappointment. She knew Darren wasn’t the man she’d thought he was, but she’d loved him and had planned a future with him. It was going to take a while to retrain her heart. And she yearned for some kind of confirmation that she hadn’t fabricated his feelings for her. She hadn’t imagined the tender moments they’d shared, had she?

Yes
. Or else how could he cheat on her with a stripper and, when confronted with the rumors, act so cavalier?

The last message was from Amy Bradshaw. Her friend’s lyrical voice brought a smile to Nikki’s face. She didn’t know Amy that well. She’d only gotten to know her since she’d moved out of the house she’d shared with Darren and into the apartment complex near Amy’s neighborhood. But when they’d met in yoga class, they had seemed like kindred spirits. And despite being a successful civil engineer and stunningly beautiful with a quick wit, Amy was a homebody and had seemed grateful to find a friend who shared her quiet interests.

When Nikki had told her she was thinking of joining the group of women who were moving to Sweetness, Georgia, Amy had been cautiously supportive. She’d seen the ad, she said, and could see why women would be intrigued by the promise of free room and board for two years and lots of strapping, single men. But when Nikki had asked Amy if she was tempted by the offer, her friend had laughed it off, saying she’d grown up in a place very much like Sweetness, and had no intention of going back to that kind of life.

“Just checking to see that you made it to your destination,” Amy’s voice sang. “Call me when you get a minute.”

Nikki punched in her friend’s number, her mood buoyed when Amy answered on the first ring.

“Amy Bradshaw.”

Nikki pictured her friend at her desk, scrutinizing a set of blueprints. “Amy, it’s Nikki.”

Amy exclaimed in surprised. “Hi, there. Where are you?”

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

“Try me.”

“I’m on the water tower above the tiny town of Sweetness, Georgia.”

Amy was silent for a couple of beats. “I don’t believe you.”

Nikki laughed. “It’s true. I had to climb up here to get reception on my cell phone.”

“That place sounds like it’s lost in time.”

“It is,” Nikki said. “But it’s beautiful. Trees and mountains as far as the eye can see.”

Amy made a noise that almost sounded envious. “What about the people?”

“The men who placed the ad, the Armstrong brothers, are likable enough, but I think they’ve bitten off more than they can chew. They weren’t prepared for a hundred women to descend on the town.”

“I take it the Armstrong brothers are single, and like most single men, clueless about dealing with women?”

“Right. I think they were all military men at some point. And apparently they grew up here. I knew a tornado had wiped the town off the map, but I didn’t realize the men were trying to rebuild their hometown. It makes me wonder if they’re letting sentimentality get in the way of common sense.”

“Southern men seem to think they can steamroll their way through just about any situation,” Amy agreed. “So…speaking of Southern men—have you met anyone interesting?”