The Lost and Found (26 page)

“Run, Ethan, while you have the chance. I have her and she can’t move.”

Laughing, Ethan rolled away from them and jogged several feet away where he knelt and began assembling snowballs.

“Cheater!” Crimson cried.

“That wasn’t a fair fight. I just thought I’d even things up. You want to wrestle with someone, woman, you wrestle with me.”

“Oh yeah? You think you’re man enough to take me?”

Crimson had meant the comeback in complete innocence and humor, but Josiah had to take a firm grip on the raging inferno her words had lit inside him. After several slow, deep breaths, he allowed her to slide to her feet.

“Be careful. Words like that could be taken as an invitation. And I’m weak enough to fall for them.”

Crimson chuckled lightly. “You’re not weak. Not at all.”

“With you, I am. I’m trying to be what you need me to be — patient, honorable. But, especially at times like these, it’s difficult.”

“I’m sorry, Jo—” Crimson never finished her sentence; she was cut off by a snowball to the face. Turning they saw the boys had drawn battle lines, with them on one side and Crimson and Josiah on the other. “Oh, he’s dead now,” Crimson grumbled as she sank to her feet to gather more snow.

“We need to move. We’re sitting ducks out here. C’mon!” Josiah yelled as he pulled her back to her feet and ran toward one of the large trees. “We’ll need to take shelter here, regroup, and then go on the attack.”

“I’m all for storming the keep,” Crimson growled, glaring in the direction of the boys who were now talking smack at them.

“Let’s make a few snowballs, just so we have some ammo, then let’s go get ‘em.”

“Deal,” she said as they touched knuckles.

What took place next would go down in the ranch history books as the Epic Snow Battle of 2014. Crimson and Josiah were greatly outnumbered; there shouldn’t have been much of a battle at all. But, Josiah was a force to be reckoned with. With their plan firmly stamped in their minds, the two began to move. They came at the boys from two different directions; snowballs whizzed through the air, most missing their intended targets.

Josiah flung the balls of snow at their opponents, trying to knock them off balance and rattle them a bit. It was exactly what they deserved. Several times he caught snowballs aimed at him and flung them back. Eventually the boys had run out of ammo and quickly gave ground, running in every direction to escape his aim.

Crimson was a little stealthier. She held back and waited for the boys to be distracted before making her move. While Josiah was busy throwing whatever snow he could get his hands on; Crimson snuck closer and began stomping the snowballs the boys had stored for use. And what she wasn’t stomping into wet mush, she’d steal and use against them.

Eventually Billy called them all in for dinner. The great snowball fight of 2014 was over. And both sides declared themselves the victors.

Josiah stayed at the big house until late that night. When it was nearing 11:30 he turned, whispered in Crimson’s ear, “I’m gonna go. You staying here tonight?”

“Yeah, I probably better.”

“Okay. Make sure you lock up. See you in the morning, Little Red,” he said as he kissed her lightly, letting his mouth linger over hers for the briefest of moments.

“I love you, Josiah. Thanks for making this a beautiful Christmas for me.”

“Thanks for being mine,” he replied as he opened the back door and stepped into the night.

Old Demons

Crimson Sage

THE SNOW LASTED UNTIL
the end of January. By that time I was fairly over my delight in it. I just craved sunshine and warmth and thought a lot about the beach house that Gracie’s parents owned in North Carolina. Every summer we’d spend a couple weeks there, except last summer when everything had ended. I missed the beach, the heat, the ocean waves. Josiah had taken me swimming a couple times and that was nice, but it wasn’t the same as the ocean waters. After we swam he’d then take me out to eat at the diner. Those times made the winter blues a little more bearable.

I hadn’t had much time to think any more about Lance and whether or not he was the man in Mom’s ripped photo, or if he was her rapist, or what had ever happened to him. I think Josiah may have had a lot to do with that. He kept me busy, whether with work on the ranch, or just hanging out and doing things with him, or those special, unexpected times he’d take me into town, swimming, or out to dinner. Several times we went hiking and even fishing. He told me he was planning a camping trip as soon as the weather warmed enough that we wouldn’t freeze our butts off.

Josiah had me practice riding more; I was now comfortable enough to catch and saddle one of the ranch horses myself; but still, horseback riding was not really my thing. He agreed it wasn’t his “thing” either, but that it was still a good skill to know. Josiah also taught me how to work on my car, which was running great. He taught me how to check and add air to the tires, how to change a flat. I learned to check the oil, and add oil when it was low. I wondered why he was teaching me all these things and again, when I asked him the reason, he just said they were good skills to know. And really, I had to agree with him. As my own life had taught me, you never knew what was around the corner. Life had a way of throwing you the unexpected.

One Friday afternoon, Josiah told me to get dressed, something nice — he was taking me into Boise for dinner. Giddy with excitement at the thought of going out to a fancy restaurant, at least fancier than the little diner in Salmon, of getting to dress up, I showered and got myself ready. I wished Gracie were here. She’d know exactly how to dress me. I stood in front of my wardrobe and bit my lip, trying to come up with something perfect. It was still cold outside, sometimes bitterly cold. And what if we did some walking around? I wanted to look beautiful, but not freeze to death in the process. After fifteen minutes I gave up and just called Gracie.

“I need your help,” I blurted as soon as she answered.

“Yes, you should have sex with him,” she responded.

“Oh
my gosh
! What is the matter with you?”

“That’s not what you’re calling about?”

“No! Yeesh! Perverted much?”

Gracie sighed. “What can I do for you then?”

“He’s taking me out. He said to dress up.”

“And you can’t figure out how to dress that lovely little body for him.”

“Sort of.”

“Okay, lemme think. Go to your closet…”

It boggled the mind how well Gracie knew the status of my clothing, what I had to choose from, what she’d have to work with. But, eventually she put the perfect outfit together for me — a dark blue ombre sweater dress, form-fitting and cut to just above the knee. It had cutout shoulders and a scoop neckline. She paired it with my black leather boots and jacket and my silver-threaded grey scarf. Gracie was a genius. I looked amazing. I thanked her and quickly got off the phone.

Josiah was waiting for me when I came down the stairs. Everyone was. I heard his slow, deep intake of breath and tried to keep the grin off my face. He told Billy we’d be back late, and not to wait up for me. Billy asked if he should lock up, or if I’d be staying elsewhere. I felt the heat stain my cheeks and before I could respond, Josiah said, “Crimson’ll take the bed. I’m fine on the couch.”

Billy gave him a hard look before turning his gaze to me. “Will you need anything from the house?”

“I… I think I’ve got what I need. Thanks.”

I heard a quiet cough from the back of the room that I knew, just
knew
came from Rob. Josiah must have known, too, because his dark blue eyes flashed for a moment before they settled down again. I kissed Billy on the cheek and said goodnight to Ethan before I headed out the door with Josiah.

He had cleaned his car. Not that it was dirty or anything normally, but I could see he’d vacuumed the inside, washed and waxed the outside. He’d hung a tropical smelling air freshener somewhere inside as well. I could smell it as he opened my door for me and helped me into the car. We drove in silence, content just to be together. He held my hand as he drove and occasionally he’d lift it and kiss the back of my knuckles.

He drove us to the Cottonwood Grille, a beautiful seafood establishment that sat alongside the Boise River. A fire was lit in a large rock fireplace that sat indoors. Cheery lights were strung inside, giving it a romantic atmosphere. Josiah must have called ahead for reservations, because we didn’t wait more than five minutes. The maître d’ led us to a table near the center of the room with a nice view of the river and the fireplace. Josiah pulled out my chair for me and helped me with my jacket.

After we were seated I took a minute or two to look him over. To really look at him. His head was bare tonight. He wore blue jeans, clean, no stains or tears, and a pair of black leather cowboy boots. He wore a tie, deep grey, over a dark blue button-up shirt. I noticed all this as he removed his jacket. I watched the way the fabric of his shirt pulled and tugged with his movements. The way it emphasized his muscle tone. He was beautiful.

Josiah

CRIMSON WAS BEAUTIFUL
. Breathtaking. Josiah couldn’t keep his eyes off her. He tried not to stare, tried to keep the heat out of his eyes, so she wouldn’t interpret his gaze as purely sexual in nature. But he couldn’t help it. He was attracted to her and all his animal instincts were firing. She was female to his male. And there was no denying that he wanted her. And in the way of any good alpha male, he was fully aware of the stares of the other men in the room, the way their eyes roved over her, the way they heated up, the way they desired her. He bristled in warning, just a quick, hard, flashing gaze that he shot around the room. Just enough of a look that said they could look, but not touch.

The waitress came to take the drink order. Josiah had a hard time paying any attention to her, had a hard time taking his eyes off Crimson. His blue eyes ran over the golden skin of her exposed shoulder, her hair, and the way it lay silky and smooth against her. He wanted to touch her. Needed to. He mumbled a hasty request for lemon water to the waitress. He caught the small grin that teased Crimson’s lips and felt a surge of heat; his pulse sped up before he was able to settle it down again.

“You’re beautiful,” he told her.

“Thank you. I was just thinking the same thing about you. I’ve never seen you in a tie.”

“I’m not beautiful. You have the attention of the whole room —
you
are beautiful. Breathtakingly so.”

“Thank you.”

The waitress — Ginny was her name — brought the water and asked if they wanted an appetizer. Crimson shrugged; her gaze on Josiah. Looking over the menu he asked her if she wanted the coconut shrimp. Crimson agreed and the order was placed.

Josiah had been wanting to take her out some place nice for a while now. He wanted to wine her and dine her — well, not the wine so much, but he wanted to treat her like a lady, like she was cherished and of great worth to him. As this was not something he normally did, in fact had never done before; he’d really had no idea where to go. So he researched and found the Cottonwood Grille. He made the reservations, knowing she had nothing planned for the evening. And things were going well. Really well.

Dinner was served and their conversation never lacked. He saw something flash in Crimson’s eye as she took a bite of her shrimp. Her soft brown eyes had been taking him in, had lingered where his dragon tattoo peaked above the collar of his shirt. He shot her a curious look and watched as the heat touched her cheeks again.

“What?” he asked.

“What?” she tried to play the innocent.

“I saw that look. You have something on your mind. What is it?”

“Well…” She fidgeted with her glass, playing with the beads of water than ran down the sides. “I was thinking about… about… ink.”

“Ink.”

“Yeah, you know… ink.”

“As in a tattoo.”

“Yeah, what do you think… if I got one?”

Josiah knew she had a deep fear of needles; she’d shared that knowledge with him a few weeks back. They’d been lying together on his bed, he on his stomach, she on her side next to him. Her nimble fingers had traced over his dragon, caressing the skin. She loved that tattoo. Crimson had asked him if it had hurt and then she’d gone on to tell him how she was deathly afraid of needles. That even just to get blood drawn she’d have to lie down or she’d pass out. Josiah looked at her closely now, his eyes taking her in and enjoying each and every inch of her.