Читать книгу On a Snowy Christmas Night - Debbi Rawlins, Debbi Rawlins - Страница 8

JESSE CLENCHED his jaw. He was an ass for bringing her up here. His intentions had been good. The view was spectacular from this vantage point. But he should’ve taken into account that she might not be an experienced enough rider. Hell, it seemed as if he couldn’t do one stinkin’ thing right these days.

“You okay?” he asked, rubbing her trembling arm.

“I’m fine. Embarrassed, but I’ll survive.” She shifted away from his touch, and he backed off.

“Let’s stop for a while.” He swung out of the saddle and offered her a hand down.

Shea resisted his help, her determination to stay mounted plain in her flushed face. “Is Gypsy mad? Does she want me off?”

“Mad?” He smiled. “Don’t think so. I figured you might want to take a break. And for the record, no reason to be embarrassed.”

She moistened her rosy lips. They looked chapped. “I’d rather we get to where we’re going.”

He stroked the mare’s flank, while scanning the scraggly brush and thicket of pine trees for any sign of a predator. Gypsy was a gentle horse and it wasn’t like her to spook that easily. Yet she’d be whinnying and trying to run if there was a hungry cougar nearby. And Rambo wouldn’t be calmly munching the tall dead grass after Jesse had dismounted.

“Okay,” he said, giving the bay a final rub down her rump. “We’ll go slow. We’re in no hurry.”

“I panicked and jerked the reins. It was all me.”

“Don’t worry about it.” He lifted his hat, then reset it on his head and let out a low whistle. “Come on, Rambo.”

“What did you call him?” She glanced over her shoulder but kept her body rigidly forward. “What’s your horse’s name?”

He rarely thought about the silly name anymore, not unless someone brought it up. “Rambo.”

“Oh. Are you a fan of the movie?”

“My little brother named him.” Jesse swung up into the saddle, then with his heel tapped the horse’s flank to get him moving. “Trace was nine when Rambo was given to me as a colt, and I promised to let him choose the name.”

“That’s sweet.”

“Yeah, well, I threatened to change it at least a dozen times.”

“But you didn’t.”

He shrugged a shoulder even though she couldn’t see him. She was concentrating on getting past a snowdrift, while Jesse focused on the slim curve of her hips. She needed a longer jacket. And not so pink. Jesus, she could attract a half-blind predator with no sense of smell.

Sticking to a slow pace, he let the horses pick their way over the rocks single file. The path wasn’t dangerous or he wouldn’t have brought Shea this way, but he could tell she was a little nervous and for that he regretted taking this route. She obviously wasn’t the outdoors type, and he shouldn’t have made the assumption she was just because she’d volunteered to work at Safe Haven.

He wondered if she knew what she was in for. A large animal sanctuary was different than a city shelter that took in dogs and cute little kittens. Annie Sheridan had run the place for the past two years and there wasn’t a critter she’d turn down, whether it be an ornery mud-drenched sow or a pregnant goat with an appetite for human hair. The abandoned Nubian he’d dropped off in August had nearly scalped Annie. The damn goat was so big the staff called her Camel.

“How did you hear about Safe Haven?” he asked as soon as the path widened and Shea seemed more relaxed.

“The internet.”

“Were you specifically looking in Montana?”

“No.”

Jesse had to smile. The woman could never be accused of being too wordy. Since they’d left the ranch it seemed he started most conversations. Silence generally suited him. Folks considered him the quietest of the three brothers and he couldn’t recall meeting a woman who could match him in that department. Until now.

The differences between Shea and most of the guests who’d been coming to the Sundance were even more apparent since they’d met for the ride. Some of those women had been worse than coyotes stalking a calf separated from the herd. They had no compunction about letting a man know they were looking for vacation sex. Clearly they didn’t understand that the chase was part of the fun. Last month one of them had pretended she’d caught him alone in the barn by accident. He’d given her high marks for playing the game with some smarts, but he still hadn’t been interested. He didn’t need any potential complications. Cole had met Jamie when she’d come to the ranch as a guest, but he was lucky. The whole thing could’ve gone sideways.

Jesse let Shea have her silence the few minutes it took to get to the meadow. Now that they were just below the snow line, there were only pockets of ice, but he figured this was still the nicest place around for them to eat. While he tethered the horses, he asked her to spread the blanket he kept in his saddlebag, then pour them coffee from the thermos while he dug out their snacks.

Taking her time, she made sure the ground was free of pebbles and twigs, then shook out the wool blanket and smoothed it all the way to the corners. Apparently the placement didn’t meet with her approval because she rearranged it… twice. Then she stepped back with a critical eye, and bit at her lower lip.

When it looked as if she were going to start over, he stopped her. “You invite guests I don’t know about?”

She blinked at him. “What?”

God save him from perfectionists. “It’s fine, Shea.”

She followed his gaze and stared at the blanket. “Oh. Right.” Her cheek dimpled with her smile. “Don’t worry. I’m not really crazy. A little compulsive, absentminded sometimes, but nothing certifiable.” She rubbed her palms down the front of her jeans, then picked up the thermos and unscrewed the top.

“You mind me asking what you do for a living?”

She hesitated. “I’m a software engineer.” She glanced around. “Do we have another cup?”

He rooted in the saddlebag for a tin cup he used when camping, wondering if that meant she was a computer jockey. “Here.”

“I’ll pour.”

Holding the cup up to her, he watched while she focused on filling it within a quarter inch of the rim. “That’s good.”

“Oops, I should’ve asked if you’d be adding cream and sugar.”

“Nope. I drink it black. So do you, so I didn’t bring any.”

“How did you know that?” she asked, staring at him and absently blowing the long bangs out of her eyes.

“Last night. After dinner.” He took a quick sip. The warmth felt good going down. “You didn’t use cream or sugar.”

“Oh.” She tilted her head to the side, as if mulling over what he’d said. “What do you do for a living?”

The question stopped him. Last time he’d been asked he was sitting in a bar in Vegas near Nellis Air Force Base. A blonde had sidled up to him and it was obvious she already knew he was a pilot before she’d opened her mouth. One fine thing about flying, you never had to be without a woman. But that night he’d lied, told her he was in data entry. She’d disappeared in seconds.

“I work at the ranch.” He shrugged. “Doing whatever needs doing.”

“I suppose that makes sense.” She poured coffee for herself then seemed flustered that she didn’t have a free hand to screw the thermos cap back on.

Jesse set his cup aside, took the thermos from her and completed the task. “You sound doubtful.”

“Do I?” She pursed her lips. “Probably because you seem different than Cole and Trace.”

“They look like real cowboys and I don’t?”

Shea frowned thoughtfully. “That might be it.”

He’d been teasing so that made him laugh.

“What?” She wrapped both hands around her cup and sipped, staring warily at him over the rim. She looked so earnest he had no idea what to make of her.

“Let’s sit.” He indicated the blanket she’d painstakingly spread. “I’m hungry.”

She reached behind and rubbed her butt and lower back. “I think I’ll stand.”

He cringed inwardly at the pinched expression on her face. Probably his fault. “Too long in the saddle?”

“No, I just need to loosen up.” She shivered. “And warm up.”

“Here.” He set down his coffee and unzipped his jacket.

“What are you doing?”

“Wear this. It’ll help—”

“No.” She moved back. “I’m not taking your jacket.”

“I’ll be okay.”

“No, absolutely not.” She retreated another step and coffee sloshed onto her hand.

He took the cup from her, then finished shrugging out of his jacket. “My fault. I should’ve made sure you were dressed appropriately to come up here.”

“Please,” she said tightly. “I’m not comfortable with this.”

Jesse was the one to step back this time. He made sure there was plenty of space between them, wondering what she thought he was going to do. Jesus, he’d clearly given her the wrong idea.

“I’m sorry,” he said, hooking the jacket onto his thumb and putting up both hands. “I didn’t mean anything.”

“No.” Her eyes widened and her cheeks turned pink. “No, it’s not you. It’s just… I can’t let you freeze because I hadn’t planned well. I’d feel awful.”

Relieved, he smiled. “Hey, I’m made of tough cowboy stock. I eat bullets for breakfast. I can take the cold.”

“Put your jacket on,” she said, with a small upward tilt of her lips. “Even your ears are red.”

He touched them. Ice cold. The downside of wearing his hair so short. “Okay, this is how it’s going to be.…” He slid on his jacket but didn’t zip it. Then he swooped up the blanket she’d carefully arranged. He shook off the clinging pebbles and dried leaves, folded the blanket in half and threw it around her shoulders.

“What—?” She tried to back up but he stopped her.

He gathered the ends together under her chin, aware that his fingers had brushed her breasts. The contact was innocent and unintentional, the down jacket thick enough that he didn’t feel the need to apologize. That would make it worse.

“Come on,” he said, pulling the blanket more snugly around her. “Doesn’t this feel better?”

She shuddered again, huddled under the blanket and stared at him with eyes slightly wide, slightly confused. Her gloved hands slid over his to grasp the bunched wool. “Thank you.”

“Got it?” he asked, then waited for her to nod before releasing his hold.

“Now we don’t have anyplace to sit.”

He zipped his jacket and indicated an outcropping of rocks close to the semifrozen stream. “How about over there?”

“If you’d rather, we can turn around.”

“Is that what you want to do?”

She tilted her head back, her gaze lifted to the sky. She wore little makeup, if any, but then she didn’t need anything. Her lashes were even thicker than he’d thought last night, and the more he looked into her gray-blue eyes, the more interesting they seemed. And her skin… it looked soft, really silky. Good thing he wasn’t one to give in to impulse. He sure had a powerful itch to run his thumb across her cheek to see for himself.

“I love being out here. But I don’t want to interfere with your work.” She brought her small chin down and met his gaze. “I still can’t believe I got my first day mixed up.” She sighed. “That’s a lie. I mess up timelines a lot.”

“Here I figured you for the organized type.”

“At work I am, but in my personal life…” She gave a small helpless shrug. “It seems I need to pay more attention to details.”

Jesse threw out their cold coffee and poured them refills. “This time it worked out,” he said, putting her cup in her hand.

“How do you mean?”

“You might not have had a chance to come up here. Isn’t it beautiful country?” He looked over the gently rolling hills that flattened out toward the Sundance.

Where the pine trees thinned, he could see the sun glistening off streams and creeks, which were partially iced over. Winter wasn’t his favorite time of year, but the sagebrush and bunchgrass would be covered with snow soon and fields of undisturbed velvety white would produce a different kind of beauty. His chest tightened. Hard to think about leaving Montana. His family. The Sundance.

Damn, every time he figured he’d come to a decision, his thinking got muddled.

No, the problem wasn’t so much in his head—his heart was doing the interfering. He knew better. There was no place for emotion in this debate. Duty came first.

“You’re right. It’s gorgeous.” Silence again lapsed as she stood beside him, gazing out at the peaceful landscape. “Is that your ranch?” She pointed, and the blanket slid off her shoulders.

He caught it, but not before splashing coffee down the front of his jeans. “Son of a—” He cut himself short. “Sorry.”

Looking horrified, she stared at his fly, or at least that’s where her attention seemed to be centered. “I just keep being a nuisance.”

“Hey, no problem. It’ll freeze-dry in seconds.” He paused. “My jeans.”

“Right.” She blushed. “I knew what you meant,” she murmured, taking the blanket from him, and struggling with only one free hand to rearrange it around her hunched shoulders.

He wondered how old she was. She probably wasn’t as young as he assumed. It wasn’t just the blushing. Rachel blushed easily and she was a damn firecracker. Shea seemed… not naive necessarily, backward wasn’t right, either… just different. Whatever it was, the woman had a strange effect on him he wasn’t sure he cared for.

“I think we should go back. I still have to go to town for the thermal underwear and gloves, and I’d prefer to go before dark.”

“You have a few hours—” he began, then saw a flicker of apprehension in her eyes. “You’re right. Better to give yourself some extra time.” He almost offered to drive her, but he had the impression she wanted to get away from him. He didn’t take it personally. Maybe he should, though.

Different was one thing. Interesting was a whole new ball game. For his own sake, maybe she was someone he should stay away from, period.

JESSE MCALLISTER was gorgeous, his manners perfect and Shea loved the gentle way he talked to his horse. Any normal woman with a pulse would’ve noticed his dark good looks and quiet confidence. Apparently she could count herself among them, which was an oddity in itself. Her awareness level barely reached simmer when it came to the opposite sex. Any pubescent attraction she’d experienced had always been edged out by fear and awkwardness. She’d quickly learned to compartmentalize. It was quite remarkable that she’d even hooked up with Brian.

So what on earth was this fluttering sensation over Jesse? Because he was nice? Because he paid her some attention? God, she hoped not. That would make her too much like her mother.

Taking a deep breath, she tried to relax as he helped her into the saddle. He was merely being polite, she reminded herself. Her flustered reactions were her problem, not his. What made the situation more difficult was the whole touching thing. Jesse was so casual about brushing her arm, tucking the blanket around her shoulders, cupping the back of her lower calf to make sure her foot was anchored in the stirrup. His hand had even accidentally grazed the front of her jacket earlier and he hadn’t batted an eye.

“The wind has picked up. It’ll be chilly riding back down. You ought to keep this around you.” He offered the blanket, and as if reading her mind, added, “We’ll take it nice and easy.”

“Thank you,” she said and exchanged Rambo’s reins for the blanket.

Jesse swung up into his saddle and nudged the gelding into the lead. The horse hadn’t advanced more than two feet when Jesse reined him in again. He eyed the struggle she was having with the blanket. Folding it in half made it more manageable as a shawl, but the wool was thick and heavy, and she was afraid she’d lose it halfway down the hill.

“Here.” He leaned over and helped her arrange the blanket so that her shoulders and arms were covered, yet she could still keep a firm grip.

She sighed. “You must think I’m twelve.”

He gave her that slow, easy smile of his. “Trust me, that’s not what I think.”

She didn’t understand her reaction. It was physical, tense, but not like being trapped. And then there was the oddly pleasant apprehension in the pit of her stomach. Maybe it was the way his voice had lowered or the way his gaze roamed her face then lingered briefly on her lips. They were chapped. He was probably about to tell her to pick up some medicated balm while she was in town.

His eyes met hers, and he wasn’t smiling anymore. “Ready?”

Nodding, she stared at the slight tic in his jaw and hoped she hadn’t somehow annoyed him. She waited for him to go first and concentrated on clutching both the reins and the blanket. It was useless to try to figure out what had just happened. She was horrible at that sort of thing. Computer glitches? She was a whiz. But human glitches, she was better off ignoring.

When he reached the bottom of the slope he turned around and waited for her. That only made her more self-conscious and she wished he’d kept going. “Okay?” he asked.

“Fine.”

“You can give Gypsy her head. She’ll follow Rambo until we get to flatter ground.”

Shea smiled.

“You still laughing at my horse’s name?”

“It is funny.”

“You’re gonna hurt his feelings.”

“With a name like Rambo? I don’t think so.”

Jesse laughed. It was a great sound. He leaned back and adjusted his hat while he watched her and Gypsy finish tackling the descent.

“You’re making me nervous,” she finally admitted. “Keep going. You don’t have to wait.”

“Yeah, I do, but I won’t watch. How’s that?” he said, amusement in his voice as he wheeled his horse around.

She darted a look from the rocky snow-dusted ground to his broad shoulders. “Not much better,” she murmured.

“What was that?”

“Nothing.” She held her breath until she and Gypsy were safely down the slope and standing beside Jesse.

He eyed the blanket that was again sagging off her back but he made no move to fix it. Crazily, she wished that he would. It was only curiosity, an experiment to see if she felt anything from him touching her again.

Her gaze was drawn to the shallow cleft in his chin, already dark with stubble. The flutter picked up, right behind her breastbone, and suddenly she was anxious to get back to the Sundance. To be in her car and away from the bewildering McAllisters.

Away from Jesse.