Nobody's Dream (10 page)

Maybe there were other needs she did need a man’s help with.

She started toward the kitchen before facing him again. “What would you like for breakfast?”

“Nothin’, darlin’.” Her hackles must have risen when he used the endearment again, judging by the stiffness in her shoulders. Half the time, the word was out before he even realized he’d said it. Hell, he’d been using words like that on girls since college—maybe high school. She sure was cute when riled up, though. “I helped myself to your delicious soup and bread already. You go ahead, though. I’ll start a fire.”

He watched her body as she walked away, wishing he could see the sway of her hips in those thigh-hugging jeans, but the long poncho/sweater-like thing she wore hid most of her backside from view. Front side, too, for that matter. The design on the back was an abstract of falling leaves.

Obviously, she wore so many layers around here because it was so cold. Once these flames caught and started putting out heat, would he manage to get her to peel off any?

Luke sighed.
Yeah, right.
No woman sent out more “don’t come near me” vibes than this one. She clearly wasn’t putting out any signals that indicated an interest in him sexually or any way other than as her patient, despite his efforts to engage her in conversation. Although he’d been drawn to her since the first time he saw her in that hospital waiting room, the only reason he was here with her was because he’d gotten himself stuck up here against her wishes. Sure, the gentle grace and slight vulnerability she exuded brought out every male instinct he possessed, but she was capable of taking care of herself and had no interest in male companionship, much less anything more carnal. It was best to keep his physical distance and just focus on getting well.

But while he was here, he intended to do his share of the work. At the very least, he wanted to show his appreciation for all she’d done for him. Jeezus, she’d saved his damned ass. He owed this girl—big time.

As he arranged the kindling and cardboard on the grate, he thought he heard muttering in the kitchen. No doubt Cassie was chewing his ass up one side and down the other. How appealing was it that she talked to herself? He guessed living alone did that to a person. He was guilty of the same thing, although he waited until he was inside the barn with the horses so at least the horses heard his ramblings.

Luke opened the dampers, struck a match, and the fire soon roared to life. He waited a few minutes as the heat built up, mesmerized by the flames, before he closed the doors. Fire always fascinated him when it was controlled like this. He’d been involved in a number of rescue missions where wildfires had taken a toll on life and property.

When the blower kicked on, he smiled and adjusted the dampers. Score. At least he had earned some of his room and board. Suddenly worn out, he crossed the room and stretched out on the loveseat, his legs sticking over the armrest from the calves down. He leaned his head against the top of the opposite armrest and closed his eyes, planning to rest his eyes for just a few minutes.

“I am sorry I snapped at you earlier, Lu—”

Luke blinked his eyes open to glance up and find Cassie standing across the room from him.

“Oh! I did not know you were sleeping.”

How long had he dozed? She didn’t have any food with her, so she must have already eaten in the kitchen. He swung his legs to the floor and stood up. “No worries.” His head throbbed at the sudden change in position.

“I am not used to having anyone taking care of things I should be doing myself.”

Sounded like Maggie. She never wanted his help much, either. “You’re a busy girl. I have nothing but time on my hands.”

“Would you at least give yourself a couple more days to heal? And stop thinking you have to repay me for anything. I would take care of any injured person or animal without expecting anything in return.”

“Darlin’, I wasn’t raised to freeload. I’ve made my own way in life since college, and I’m not going to start mooching off you or anyone else now.” He pointed to the fireplace. “I have a knack for fixing stuff like this. Might as well put me to work while I’m here. Otherwise I’m just going to follow you around and wind up in your hair.” He glanced at her long, thick tresses, wondering what it would feel like to run his hands through them.

She blinked at him a few times as she processed his speech. “If I asked again, would you stop calling me ‘darling’?”

He grinned. “Shoot, where I come from everyone uses darlin’, sugar, or sweetie. Would you prefer one of those instead?”

“I’d prefer Cassie.”

“If I call you Cassie instead of Casandra or whatever it’s short for, will you call me Luke?”

“I am Cassie. Only Cassie.” Fire smoldered in her eyes. “But Lucas is
your
given name.”

“Same difference then. I’d rather you call me Luke.”

She stared a long moment and then sighed deeply. “Fine, then.” Touchdown pass. “You may call me whatever nickname you like,
Lucas
.”

Or maybe another fumble
. While he was happy to hear that he could still use the endearments that came so naturally to him, he wished she’d stop calling him Lucas. His momma used his full name—Stephen Lucas Denton—when he was in trouble, but everyone else had called him Luke since second grade. On the other hand, Lucas was probably a sight better than what she probably called him in her head when she was ticked off at him.

Like now.

“I do appreciate you fixing the fireplace. I am not mechanically inclined.”

He grinned. “No worries…Sweet Pea.” He wasn’t sure what prompted him to choose that unique pet name just for Cassie, but it fit. On the surface, she was beautiful, just like the purple flowers. But underneath, the girl was one tangled up mess. He hoped he’d be able to sort her out someday.

She blinked a couple of times at his words and then sighed. “I am going back to the studio.” She walked away from him and then tossed over her shoulder, “You should rest.”

Clearly, she wasn’t allowing him inside her private sanctuary any time soon.

He grunted noncommittally and, after she left the cabin, searched for something to do. Everything seemed to be in its place, even though, like the bedroom, this one had very little clutter. No knickknacks to make the place personal. Resembled a mountain vacation rental rather than the place someone had called home for years.

Earth tones dominated the living room, except for a rare splash of color in an Indian blanket draped over the loveseat. This one was primarily red and showed terraced triangles and arrows in black.

Restless and once again feeling the effects of diminished stamina, Luke returned to the fireplace to poke at the flaming logs and added the last ones. The room already felt warmer than the bedroom ever would, but the loveseat wasn’t long enough for him to sleep comfortably. He pulled a couple of cushions off the couch and retrieved a couple blankets and some pillows from the bedroom. He went to the bathroom where he shucked off his clothes, including his boxers. After washing them out in the sink, he hung them to dry in front of the fire and stretched out on the floor, a blanket around his waist.

Memories flooded him of the time when he was a kid pretending to camp out by the fireplace in that rundown farmhouse in South Carolina. Even though that fireplace had been boarded up, he had used his imagination. He’d done that a lot as a kid. Didn’t have a lot of friends since they moved around so much.

Thinking about his childhood reminded him he needed to call Momma in a day or two or she’d worry. She only called once a week now, so she wouldn’t think anything out of the ordinary unless he went beyond Sunday. She’d be heading north to spend the month of July with him at the ranch. For years now, she had been spending July with him in Colorado, not only to visit but also to shop and sightsee. This would be her first time seeing the ranch.

His dad had never visited him in Colorado, period, not even when Luke lived in the townhouse in Denver. But Momma came up every July. Surprised the hell out of him that Dad said he planned to join her this year. Said he looked forward to seeing Luke’s mustang rescue operation, but more than likely, he’d back out.

Luke hoped so, anyway. The thought of passing Dad’s inspection made Luke as nervous as a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs. When he was younger, he’d dreamed about gaining the old man’s approval, but now he didn’t really care. Much. He was proud of what he was doing and hoped his dad would be, too. If not, well, status quo.

The flames licked at the air above the logs, and Luke’s eyes drooped. He needed to bring in more wood, but he was so damned tired…

The smell of an unfamiliar spice awakened him, and he glanced around the living room. Alone. The scraping of a pot alerted him that Cassie must be back in the kitchen, so he pulled on his boxers, which had dried thanks to the blower, and his jeans. He stood to fasten the fly. Too hot now for the shirt. For the first time since he came to in Cassie’s cabin—except maybe when she was pressed against him in her bed—he felt warm.

Cassie’s back was turned as she stirred a pot on the stove.

“Something smells good.” Her shoulders tensed when she heard his voice, but she recovered quickly and stirred the pot some more.

“
Puca picante
with rice.”

He approached and glanced over her shoulder into the pan. “Wow, that sure is red!”

Cassie giggled, the cutest sound he’d ever heard. “That is what
puca
means in my native language.”

“And
picante
means it has a helluva kick to it.”

“Oh, yes. I hope you do not mi…” She turned and her eyes opened wide.

*     *     *

Cassie found herself staring at Lucas’s bare chest. A slight tan line on his arms showed he did not always go shirtless outdoors. So why was he not wearing his shirt now? His nipples stood out ruddy brown against a light sprinkling of sandy-colored hair around his pecs. Blond. Not like…

The tight confines of her kitchen became even more restrictive. Her face grew warm as her heartbeats fluttered erratically, stealing her breath away. Confused, she did not know if he had triggered her fight-or-flight response or if she was merely embarrassed at his state of undress. He did not send out a danger vibe at all, so it must be the latter.

I am safe. He is not one of
them.

Swallowing past the lump in her throat, “Um, this might be a little too spicy. I sometimes forget how hot my cooking is for those not used to it.” Her words came out in a rush. Lucas’s half-naked body set off too many alarm bells for her to process. She turned back to the stove.

“Don’t mind a little spice at all. I grew up in West Texas. I even came out the victor in a serrano pepper eating contest at an Austin Tex-Mex cantina once during college.”

“The
aji panca
peppers in here are much milder than serrano. You should be fine.”
But I am not.
He was much less threatening when naked and delirious. Cassie’s face grew as hot as if she had bitten into a serrano herself—or perhaps a habanero. “Excuse me.”

Needing to put some space between herself and the heat pouring off this man’s naked chest, she scooted around him and lifted the curtain over the pantry to scoop out some rice from the bin.

When she turned around, he had not budged from near the stove. “You should go rest until I finish making dinner. I will call you when it is ready.”

“I’ve slept long enough. Tell me what I can do to help.”

Remove your half-naked body from my kitchen.

Be nice, Cassie.
He probably was unaware of the effect his nearness had on her. “Would you please set the table?” At least that would move him away from her stove—where she needed to be if they were going to eat tonight. He went about doing as she had requested, lifting several curtains at the cupboards before finding plates. She poured the rice into the boiling water. With surprise, she noted that seeing Lucas’s naked chest had not triggered an actual flashback, only discomfort of some unknown origin. A man had not aroused her in more than five years. So it could not be that.

As she stirred the rice, she wondered if he would put on a shirt anytime soon. She did not intend to sit beside him at the table if he remained half-dressed. At least he had put his pants on. When she had come in from the studio to find him sleeping by the fire, his white underwear hanging like a flag of surrender from the fireplace tool set, she wondered if he had fixed the fireplace so he could strut around her cabin nude.

If so, he had better think again.

“What are you working on in your studio?”

Cassie refused to face him. “I just finished a portrait of my parents, but have not gone on to a new piece yet.”

“Ah. Planning a trip home soon?”

Now that made her turn to stare at him—but at his face, not his chest—wondering how he had come to that conclusion. “No.” It was none of his business, so why did she feel compelled to tell him anything about her plans? “My brother will be visiting soon and can take it to them. I cannot…leave my animals.”

“If you ever need someone to take care of them so you can go home for a visit, I’m just down the highway.”

How to respond without seeming ungrateful? She turned back toward the stove. “I appreciate that. I will keep your offer in mind.” Even though she would never take him up on it. She could never return home, no matter how much she missed her family. Missing occasions like her parents’ upcoming anniversary and renewal of vows tore at her heart, but there was no way she could make that journey to her former home.

Cassie stirred the potato and beet dish and blinked away the stinging in her eyes. Maybe she had used hotter
aji panca
paste than intended.

She hoped Lucas would like what she had prepared but had not planned on having him or anyone else up here as a guest, so her pantry was filled with comfort foods and staples more familiar to a Peruvian kitchen than an American one.

“Excuse me. I’d better check on the fire.” Lucas left the room, and she took several deep breaths while she could. She wished he would let the blasted fire go out so he would become cold again and put on his clothes. Fortunately, when he returned a few minutes later, he wore his shirt.