On a Snowy Christmas Night (9 page)

Jesse’s head jerked up. “Hey.”

She moved into the shadows so he couldn’t see her watery eyes. No tears had fallen yet, and she blinked rapidly to keep them at bay. “Annie must be terrified. If she sends anyone out to look for me in this storm, I’ll never forgive—”

“I had someone call her. She knows you’re with me.” He struck a match and lit the fire. Wisps of dark smoke seeped from the metal pipe that poked through the ceiling.

“How?” There couldn’t be cell service out here.

“I radioed when we stopped at the Cessna. Annie and my family have been notified that we’re lying low.” Rising, he waved off the smoke and inspected the pipe.

“Thank God.” She breathed in too deeply and it hurt her chest. Tears still burned at the back of her eyes. She had to get control of herself. They were safe, and Annie and the McAllisters didn’t have to worry.

He used the heel of his hand to give the stovepipe a couple of whacks. She heard something break loose inside, then some other rattling noise. Probably an animal. She didn’t ask...she didn’t want to know. The smoke had stopped leaking. That was good enough for her.

“Close the door if you want,” he said, returning to poke at the meager flames.

Her relief that he’d been too preoccupied to notice her almost lose it dissolved when she saw that he was studying her as intently as he was the struggling fire.

Averting her eyes, she silently cleared her throat. “I’m willing to leave it open for a while longer if you think it would help.”

“It’ll get warmer faster with the door closed.”

She had the benefit of the blanket, he didn’t. After a final peek at the mare, Shea shut the door. “This is really helping,” she said, letting the blanket slide off her shoulders. “You should use it now.”

He stood abruptly and stopped her from passing it to him. “No, keep it around you until I have the fire going better. Don’t lose heat now.”

“What about you?”

“Hey, I’m the hero of the day. Let me enjoy my fame for another hour.”

“The hero?”

“Damn right. Rescued a damsel in distress, didn’t I?”

“I thought this looked more like a cape than a blanket.” God, she’d made a joke of sorts. What had gotten into her?

His mouth curved in a small smile as he gently arranged the blanket so that it covered her shoulders and most of her neck. The whole time he faced her, tugging the ends together and catching her off guard. She stumbled toward him and he put his arms around her.

“I figure we’ll share the blanket.” He lifted and freed her hair, lingering to rub the strands between his thumb and forefinger, much as she’d done to Caleb’s mane.

She hoped she hadn’t made the horse as nervous as Jesse was making her. “Share...as in you have a turn, then I have one? Or do you mean we’d be using it at the same time?”

He looked as if he wanted to laugh. “Which do you prefer?”

“Whichever is more practical,” she said, and was startled to see her breath mingle with his in the cold air.

“Of course.” His eyes probed hers and then he lowered his gaze to her lips. “I’d better get back to the fire.”

He was already doing a fine job of heating the room, or at least her. Warmth filled her chest and pooled in her belly. For a split second she thought he might kiss her again. Was he waiting for a signal from her? God, she was so bad at this.

No, the kiss hadn’t meant anything. He’d been relieved to find her. It had just happened. Anyway, it would be a mistake. Getting physical wouldn’t end well. It never had for her. Not once. She’d be disappointed, things would get awkward and then they’d be stuck here together for who knew how long.

“Maybe I should tackle—” Her voice sounded weak and shaky. She cleared her throat and moved away before trying again. “I saw a stack of old newspapers. I should crumple some.”

“We’ll need them eventually,” he agreed, and checked the fire. “Your jeans are wet. You should take them off.”

She glanced down. They were soaked. How had she not noticed? “I can’t do that.”

“We’ll hang them near the stove,” he said in a casual tone, his focus remaining on the growing flames. “They’ll dry faster than they will plastered to you.”

“I don’t have other clothes to change into.”

“You have the blanket.”

“But we’re going to share it.”

He turned his head toward her, one dark brow lifted in amusement. “So you’ve decided.”

“Stop that.” She sounded as though she were five.

“What?”

“You’re teasing me.”

“I am,” he said with a smile that was far from contrite. “But you’d still be better off losing the jeans.”

She did the only thing she could—she ignored him. After busying herself with collecting and crumpling newspaper, she found part of a torn T-shirt that was probably meant as a rag.

Unused and relatively soil free, it was perfect for dusting off the two benches and the cot. She picked up the sole pillow, stood at the open door and tried to shake out the dust and bits of dried leaves that had accumulated inside the faded pillowcase. No matter, her head wouldn’t be going anywhere near that thing.

Now that she knew her jeans were drenched, they’d become horribly uncomfortable. She had the miserable feeling that as long as they were wet she’d never fully warm up. It made no sense to have a cot but no blankets or sheets. Then again, she doubted anything she’d find here would be acceptable to have pressed against her body.

The mere idea made her shudder. “Why is this shack here?” she asked Jesse, who’d done a great job with the fire during the twenty minutes she’d spent ignoring him.

“It’s used for fishing trips, emergencies, a place to spend the night if you’re mending fences.” A flame licked out of the stove, narrowly missing him. He leaned back and shut the metal door with a loud clang.

“Are we that far from civilization?”

Jesse straightened, stretched out his long lean form and dusted his hands together. “Yep, guess you’re at my mercy.”

9

S
HE
STARED
AT
HIM
with her serious gray eyes, then blinked and huffed. “I’m so glad I can amuse you.”

Jesse smiled, pleased that she’d started to loosen up. The impulsive kiss he’d laid on her could’ve done some damage. No way he could explain what had gotten into him. Other than he’d been relieved to see that she was okay. Fortunately, it seemed she was willing to forget it, not read too much into his rashness and move on.

Trouble was, he wouldn’t mind kissing her again.

It finally occurred to him that he was staring at her lips, and he got down to the business of removing his other glove. “As the crow flies we aren’t too far from Safe Haven or the Heber ranch. This type of line shack is a holdover from the old West.”

She huddled closer to the stove. “It looks it. You’d think the place would be better equipped.”

“Nowadays you can have them built log-cabin style with most of the luxuries of a resort. If you’ve got money to burn that is.” He tossed his glove at the cot. “Cy used to like to tip the bottle back now and again. His wife wouldn’t have it so he’d sneak out here. Kept his whiskey right under that...”

Jesse lifted the frying pan and kettle, then the bucket. Sure enough, there was a fifth of Jim Beam. He picked up the bottle of bourbon and held it to the light. Half-full. God bless Cy.

“You’re not going to drink that.”

“Well, darlin’...” he drawled, giving her a wink. “I’d wager we’ll both be a little happy before the night’s over.”

She wrinkled her nose. “Not me—” she paused “—darlin’.”

At least he’d gotten her to crack a small smile. “Need help pulling off those jeans?”

Her brows shot up and she stared at him as if she didn’t know what to say. He figured she probably didn’t. She wasn’t as uptight as he’d initially thought, but she seemed to be oddly innocent, as if the world she saw was completely different from the world of an ordinary Joe like him. It made him wonder what life had been like for her, growing up with that kind of naïveté. Combined with the level of smarts that were required to be a computer software engineer, it was a peculiar mix. Interesting. Appealing.

He hooked his boot around the leg of a nearby stool and pulled it closer to the fire. “You think I’m joking but that denim is soaked. It’s gonna need to be peeled off you.”

“What about
your
jeans?”

“They’re only wet to the knees, but they’re coming off right now.”

She pulled the blanket tighter around her shoulders. He’d expected her to turn away. Instead she stared with owlish fascination as he set the bottle on the floor then unbuckled his belt.

Well, hell, he wasn’t about to do a striptease. “How are your feet?”

“My feet?”

“They have to be cold. Take off your boots and massage your toes. Get the circulation going.” He nudged the stool toward her and got one of the narrow benches for himself.

She dragged the stool farther away from him, tested its stability by pushing on the seat then trying to rock it back and forth. Apparently satisfied she wouldn’t fall on her cute little ass, she slowly lowered herself, arranging the blanket so she wasn’t sitting on it.

He waited until she bowed her head to unlace her boots before he unzipped his fly.

The sound brought her head up. “You’re really going to take those off?”

“Will it offend you?”

She vigorously shook her head, then lowered her lids and went back to removing her boots. Her teeth still chattered sporadically, and it killed him that he couldn’t make her warmer.

Although he wouldn’t admit it to her, he was pretty damn cold himself. He’d hoped to find a wool blanket—even a moth-eaten one would do. But the place seemed bare. Then, too, he hadn’t looked around much since they’d had some light.

Last time he’d been out here was to repair some fence for Cy because the old man had been forced to let his help go. Had to be about five years ago when Jesse had come home on leave. Back then the shack was better stocked and he’d stayed on a couple days after the job was finished just to be alone. His family never knew. They would’ve been hurt.

With his jeans half-open, he picked up the lantern and moved it around. Peering into the dark corners where a broken camping chair and empty crates had been shoved. The soft glow was better than nothing, but not by much.

“Is something wrong?”

“Just having a look.”

“You want the flashlight?”

“Yeah, that might be better.” He found a hook near the cot and hung the lantern from it.

She’d taken off a glove and was holding out the flashlight. Her skin was red, mostly her fingers. They were trembling but that wasn’t what had him worried.

“Let’s see.” He stuck the flashlight under his arm, took her hand and probed her palm and knuckle area. “Can you feel this?”

“Yes.”

“No numbness?”

She pulled away. “It actually hurts a little so I know I don’t have frostbite.”

“I didn’t think so but it can happen faster than you think. Now your feet.”

One boot was off. Her red striped socks didn’t look wet. She wiggled her toes. “Cold but fine. I was sitting on Candy Cane most of the time.” Her gaze lowered to his boots. “We should be worried about you.”

He retrieved the flashlight and flipped the switch. The beam landed on the metal bucket, which reminded him... “First I need to go outside again,” he said, grabbing the bucket.

“Why?”

“Collect some snow.”

She frowned briefly, then nodded. “Need help?”

“I got it.” He glanced over his shoulder toward the cot. “If you find another bucket or pot that I missed, let me know.”

Clearly no one had used the place in a long time and hadn’t bothered to leave it ready for an emergency. Sometimes high school kids used the abandoned shacks to party, but they obviously hadn’t found this one or the whiskey would be gone.

Like many other small ranchers trapped in the poor economy, the Hebers had ended up selling most of their herd shortly after Jesse had returned to duty. And since Cy had given up booze, the place likely had been forgotten.

After zipping his fly, he prepared himself for the cold outside. He bowed his head to block the icy wind from stinging his face and scooped snow into the bucket. The small shack was chock-full of memories, most of them good, some not. He’d been going through a tough time five years ago, confused about his future and the lack of direction in his life. Staying out here alone had been peaceful, but he’d returned to the Sundance without answers.

Before going inside he stopped to check on the mare. The door opened and Shea poked her head out.

“Is Candy Cane all right?” she asked.

“She’s fine.” He stroked the bay’s neck. “I see you found a pot.”

Shea glanced down. “Oh, yes, here.” He took it before she walked out into the snow in her stocking feet. “Are you sure she’s okay?”

“Yes. You’re letting heat escape.” He forced her to back up by setting the bucket down just inside, and noted the glint of suspicion in her eye as he pulled the door closed.

He hadn’t lied. She was a city girl. To her animals were pampered pets. The mare was just fine for now, whereas he and Shea couldn’t afford to lose heat. The old stove was efficient but unable to sustain a comfortable temperature without enough logs. They were hurting in that department. He’d have to feed the fire slowly, keep it just warm enough that they didn’t freeze. No telling when the weather would let up.

After filling the pot, he stomped the snow off his boots and went back inside. She’d moved closer to the stove. Her other glove and socks were off but she still had her jeans on. Jesse sighed. She was never going to get warm.

“I don’t know what you want me to do with the bucket,” she said, watching him place the pot on the fire as she rubbed her toes.

“Your job is to keep the blood flowing.” He ignored her eye-roll and moved the bucket to the other side of the stove. He left his jacket there to dry, then sat down to unlace his sturdy air-force-issue boots. Normally he wore cowboy boots but not when he flew, especially in winter.

Good thing. His socks were still dry. He left them on, then stood to unzip his fly. Again, her head came up. He wasn’t shy or even modest, but Jesus.

“You really wanna watch?” he asked, and then could only chuckle when it looked as if she were debating the matter.

“Are you wearing thermal underwear?” she asked with a casual curiosity that surprised him.

“Yep, but those are coming off, too. Turn your head if you want.”

She studied him for a long, drawn-out moment, then bowed her head and massaged her other foot.

He stripped off his jeans, dragged the cot closer to the stove and hung the Levi’s off the end. Then he peeled down his cotton thermals and hung them, too, leaving room for her things. It felt good to be free of the wet clinging material. Luckily for everyone, his brown boxers were bone-dry.

Shea sighed loudly.

He looked up and found her gaze focused on his fly. Not his cock precisely, but the same vicinity.

“What?” he asked slowly, heat stirring low in his belly. Another few seconds and she’d figure out exactly what was on his mind.

“You’re just being sensible.”

Did she sound disappointed, or was it wishful thinking on his part? “As opposed to...” He drew out the words, then waited, not happy that his body continued to tense. The last thing he wanted to do was scare her. He casually walked around the other side of the cot to get to his seat.

“I’m being stupid.” She rose and let the blanket slide down her back and onto the stool.

Lifting the hem of her jacket so she could see what she was doing, she unsnapped her jeans and drew down the zipper, without hesitation, as if it were perfectly normal for her to undress in front of him. She wiggled as she forced the wet denim past her hips. Leaving on the beige thermals she wore underneath, she then sat to finish pulling off the jeans.

And he’d been worried about the kiss, or that he’d scared her? She hadn’t even tried to hide behind the stove or asked him to turn around. In fact, she was treating him like he was one of her girlfriends.

Irritated, he sat down again and watched, waiting for her to chuck the thermals.

This time her fingers hesitated at the waistband. She fixed him with a stare as frigid as the outside temperature. “You really wanna watch?” she asked, throwing his words back at him.

“You really want an answer?” He let out a laugh, gladly suffering her steely gaze. “All right.” He swung around and gave her his back.

“When do you think we’ll be able to leave?”

“Hard to say. If the snow doesn’t let up overnight, I’ll go to the plane at first light and use the radio.”

“On foot?” She’d moved away, judging by the muffled tone of her voice. Probably hanging up her jeans.

“Depends how deep the snow is.”

She stayed silent long enough that he was about to turn around when she said, “How will radioing help us? Or is it simply a matter of reporting in?”

“The wind seems to be dying down some. I’ll let Cole know how it looks out here and he’ll come get us.”

“How?”

“Snowmobiles, if necessary.” He sensed her tension and wanted to see what she was up to. The stool’s legs scraped the wood floor. “The truth is he’ll show up no matter what, so no need to worry. Can I turn around now?”

“Yes,” she said so softly, the crackle of the fire nearly drowned her out.

He didn’t need to see the slump of her shoulders to know her mood had shifted. She’d rewrapped the blanket around her body and stared idly at the stove. “We’re not in trouble,” he said. “If I thought we were, that would’ve trumped the risk of someone coming after us. I knew we’d find shelter.”

She stretched her bare legs out in front of her, toward the stove. Her thighs were covered by the blanket, but not her pale shapely calves and slim ankles. He tried not to stare. He’d hate for her to think that his judgment call had been motivated by a personal agenda. The storm had hit quickly, its ferocity unexpected, and for sure his brothers had their hands full back at the Sundance. To have unnecessarily brought them out in this mess would have been irresponsible.

“I feel so horribly guilty,” she said after a while. “I should’ve listened to Annie. She didn’t want me to go after Caleb. She was distracted and I took advantage of the situation.”

He’d wondered what had happened. Didn’t make sense that Annie would let Shea run off like she had. “Look, we’re okay. Everyone’s been notified. They know you’re with me, so they won’t worry.”

“No, they just all think I’m a total idiot. Probably won’t trust me with the animals anymore.”

“I suspect they think you’re a very kind and compassionate woman who was concerned about a horse.”

She glanced at him, then seemed to concentrate on her toes, curling them toward the stove. “What about you?”

“I definitely don’t think you’re an idiot.”

Her lips lifted in a faint smile. “I was referring to you being collateral damage. You’re stuck here because of me.”

Jesse sucked in a breath. That was true because he never would’ve landed on that field if he hadn’t seen her. But he sure wasn’t going to admit it. “There’s another way to look at the situation. Maybe I was meant to fly over at that particular moment and spot you.”

“So we’d end up here...stranded...together.”

He shrugged a shoulder. Sounded weird put that way.

“You’re talking about fate.”

“Whatever.”

“I don’t believe in that.”

He didn’t, either. “You hungry?”

“No.” She drew her legs up until they disappeared under the blanket. Hugging her knees, she continued to stare at the stove as if she could see the fire. “I can’t even think about food.”

“You’ll have to eat sometime.”

“What?” She made a face. “That canned stuff in the corner?”

“I doubt it’ll come to that. I have jerky, trail mix and dried fruit in my bag.”

That seemed to spark her attention. She looked over at him. “Do you think Candy Cane would eat the dried fruit?”

He snorted. “If I know Annie, that mare was well fed this morning. I suspect she had a full belly when you left. Mine not so much.”