The Cowboy Who Came In From The Cold

“I noticed.” She was surprised by the snap in her voice. It wasn’t like her, but then the way he was explaining things—how to get into a bunk bed—made it seem as though he thought she was a complete idiot.

“Look, I know I made a mistake driving up here without checking the weather, but I’m perfectly capable of putting myself to bed for the night.”

His gaze narrowed, and she expected him to snap back- Instead he nodded toward the bunk. “Get some sleep.”

Patrice climbed onto the mattress, slipped into the sleeping bag and rested her head on the pillow. She watched Stone adding wood to the stove. When he finished, he poured himself another mug of coffee and walked across the room to the fireplace.

Walked didn’t quite describe his movements, she decided. Ambled came closer, since his motions were easy, casual and relaxed. She was struck again by how handsome he was and how he looked so natural in the surroundings. It felt as if she were watching a cowboy movie from front row center.

Despite her earlier fears about her vulnerability while asleep, the warmth of the sleeping bag and the softness of the pillow were seducing her senses toward sleep.

Just before she drifted off, she remembered Stone’s words, “I’ll stay in my own bunk, and I don’t snore.”

How did he know he didn’t snore?

Stone angled the sofa closer to the fire before he stretched out on it. The small love seat wasn’t nearly long enough for him to get too comfortable.

He had to make do while a much larger couch and oversize recliner sat empty at the house. Then again his Labrador retriever, Elwood, was probably taking advantage of his absence to make himself at home.

He glanced toward the bunk beds. The sides of the room were shadowed so that about all he could see of his unexpected guest was a silhouette.

It was all he needed to see. She might not have much common sense, traveling unknowingly into a blizzard, but she was definitely an eyeful. Not that short, sassy, green-eyed redheads were his usual type. He preferred cool blondes with long legs.

He’d been hard-pressed to remember he was a gentleman and not sneak a peek while she was changing earlier. He was a gentleman, but he was only human. And standing there with his back to an attractive woman while listening to the sound of zippers and shifting material had put his chivalry to the ultimate test.

Patrice Caldwell. The woman’s name suited her, as did her tailored clothing and flashy red car. She was a city slicker through and through, but he had to admit the oversize cowboy duds he’d given her to wear looked kind of cute. That had been a surprise, turning around to find the icy, serious Patrice laughing and smiling as she rolled up the sleeves of the borrowed shirt.

He couldn’t help fantasizing about getting her back out of those warm clothes and into a sleeping bag with him....

Especially when the feel of carrying her to the truck was fresh in his memory. She was petite, but curvy in all the right places, and, Lord help him, he liked a woman to have curves. Yep, she was a pleasing armful and eyeful, all right

He felt a smile tug at the corners of his mouth as he thought about her reaction when he’d told her about the outhouse. And her comment about the deer and insomniac bears!

For a moment he almost felt sorry for her, but then he reminded himself, Patrice was the reason he was stuck here on a too-small couch with a quickly cooling cup of coffee, instead of watching a football game from the recliner in his den.

At least he didn’t have to worry about things at the ranch. His foreman, Mack, was top-notch and would take care of business. His housekeeper, Virginia, would hold down the homefront.

The bad part about being stuck here was figuring out how to keep occupied. If he didn’t stay busy, he would go nuts. There was a small assortment of books, magazines and games in each of the line shacks, but the prospect didn’t excite him at the moment... not nearly as much as his unexpected roommate did.

The shutters rattled with the increasing wind gusts. His wife used to love listening to the wind late at night. Especially when it would hit the eaves at the right angle to make a whistling sound.

No way, buddy, don’t start thinking about Valerie.

A log shifted in the fireplace, sending up a shower of sparks. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. The cabin was starting to warm up. He would keep the fires going full force for the next few hours then catch some sleep.

He glanced toward the bunk again. Patrice hadn’t moved. She was probably fast asleep by now. This was going to be some night. A true test of his self-control. Because he’d never shared a bunk bed with a woman before...well, never in separate bunks.

Patrice’s body was so tired it ached. Her mind was frazzled and tired, too, but it didn’t want to stop racing.

This was the second time she’d awoken. The first time had been when Stone had been adding logs to the fire. From the noise below, and since the lamps were off, she assumed this time what had disturbed her was his calling it a night.

Her heartbeat raced. No need to panic, he’s in his own bunk, and he said he would stay there. From the sound of the wind outside, she had no choice but to trust that she was safe with him.

And...he won’t snore. Once again she wondered how he knew. Was there someone he slept with on a regular basis waiting for him at home? A wife? Live-in girlfriend? Somebody who might not like the idea of his spending the night in a cabin with another woman?

What difference did it make? Tomorrow they would be out of here, and she probably wouldn’t ever see him again.

A popping noise came from the fireplace and she jumped. There was movement and more rustling from below, as though Stone were settling more deeply into his sleeping bag. Patrice fought back a nervous giggle as she realized this was the closest she’d ever come to sleeping with a man. There was a mattress and several feet of air between them, but they were still sleeping together.

This was definitely not how she’d pictured her first night with a man.

Then again this was not the man she’d pictured herself with. Though she had to admit he was attractive. His eyes were incredible. How many women had he seduced with just a look?

What would it feel like to have him look at me that way?

Finally she felt the brush of sleep flirting with her once again. Pondering the question, she drifted off.

The smell of freshly brewing coffee woke her in the morning. Patrice opened her eyes slowly. The lamps were lit, and the small crack of dim light between the shutters announced that it was some time after sunrise. Stone was sitting at the table, a book open in front of him. The wind still howled past the cabin.

She started to move, but every muscle in her body protested. Biting her bottom lip to keep from groaning, she wriggled out of the sleeping bag and slowly sat up. “Good morning.”

He nodded in her direction. “Mornin’.”

It sure didn’t sound good from the wind outside. “Is the blizzard still going strong?”

“Yep, from what I heard yesterday, it should let up day after tomorrow.”

Patrice was sure she’d heard him incorrectly. “Day after tomorrow?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“You mean we can’t leave here until the day after tomorrow?” What on earth would they do stuck in this cabin until then?

“We can’t leave until some of the snow melts.”

She didn’t like the sound of this. “When the snow melts?”

“We’re low enough that when the Chinook comes, enough of it will melt for us to drive out.”

“I don’t mean to play twenty questions, but what is the Chinook? And when is it coming?” she asked sincerely.

“A Chinook is a warm wind. And it should be here in a week, or so.”

When he’d told whomever he’d talked to on the phone that he’d call again in a few days, she never dreamed he meant that he’d be placing the call from here. “A week? Or so?”

“Hey, this is no picnic for me, either.”

His words hit her like a blast of cold air, making her feel ungrateful and selfish. If the storm wouldn’t let up until the day after tomorrow, he’d probably saved her life by getting her out of and away from her stuck car. “I appreciate your coming to my rescue. I guess I should have said thank you yesterday. Better late than never?”

“You’re welcome, Patrice.” He stood. “Oatmeal for breakfast?”

She wrinkled her nose.

A half smile tugged at his mouth. “Better get used to the idea. There’s not a lot of variety. Most stays here are only a few days at a time. So while we won’t starve, the menu will be limited, and it’s not going to be gourmet fare.”

“Like you said, this isn’t a picnic. Is there anything I can do to help?” She headed for the end of the bed, wincing when her foot hit the first rung.

“A little sore this morning?”

“A lot sore.” She finished her climb down and rolled her shoulders back and forward, trying to loosen up some of the stiffness. “I don’t understand it, the bed felt comfortable enough when I crawled in it last night.”

“The stiffening is most likely from the accident yesterday.”

He was probably right. That whole problem of automatically tensing your muscles before impact, the reason why sleeping passengers and drivers under the influence often escaped serious injury.

“With everything else, I’d forgotten about that.” The threat of wild animals and spending her first night with a man—a gorgeous one at that—had brushed the accident right out of her mind. Both the accident and the events leading up to it.

“There are painkillers and ointment in the first-aid kit.”

Patrice easily found aspirin in the well-organized cupboard. She also glanced through the packaged and canned food. The supply was plentiful, but there wasn’t much variety. Stone was right, they wouldn’t starve. And since most everything was heat-and-serve or add-hot-water, meal preparation was going to be a snap.

They worked side by side getting breakfast ready and cleaning up. Afterward, Stone went outside to bring in more wood and gather buckets of snow so they wouldn’t use up their bottled water for washing and dishes.

When she could put it off no longer, Patrice made the trip to the outhouse. The brutal wind cut through all the layers of her clothing. It was amazing how much snow had fallen during the night, and it was still coming down.

Once back inside the cabin, she stood in front of the fire.

“I thought it was cold in here until I went out,” she said, being truthful.

“It is cold in here. It’s just colder out there.”

“I guess. Brrr, is an understatement”

She turned her back to the fire so that she could defrost evenly. Stone was sitting on one end of the couch. The book he’d been reading sat open in his lap.

There was an awkward silence. She laughed, nervously. “Well, we’ve introduced ourselves and discussed the weather. Now what?”

“There are some books and things in the cupboard,” he directed.

“More than a week’s worth?”

“Read slowly,” he said sarcastically.

Patrice sighed. “I guess electricity and a computer wouldn’t be cost-effective out here, either.”

“Nope. And if we had electricity, I’d put in a TV and VCR before a computer. More people could use it at the same time.” He closed his book and set it next to him on the couch.

“I never would have expected cost-effectiveness to be such a concern for a cowboy.”

“Ranching is a business.”

“I guess I never stopped to think about it. I hear the word cowboy and automatically think about men in boots and hats riding horses and driving pickup trucks.”

He smiled one of his killer smiles. “That’s the fun part, but there’s a whole lot more to ranching than that.”

“And I’m keeping you from work, aren’t I? I’m sorry.” An awful thought crossed her mind. “You won’t lose your job because you’re stuck here, will you? If you need me to explain things to your boss—”

“I am the boss. My job’s not in any danger as long as beef prices stay up and we don’t lose too many cattle over the winter.”

“That’s a relief. I feel bad enough about stranding us. If I’d jeopardized your job on top of that, it would be even worse.” She wondered about the effect on his private life, but wasn’t about to ask. Was she afraid to hear that he bad a wife and half a dozen kids waiting for him?

She glanced at his left hand. He wasn’t wearing a ring, although that wasn’t necessarily conclusive with such a rugged career.

But if he did have a wife, wouldn’t he have called home? Of course he might have done so while she was in the outhouse. Besides, it shouldn’t matter. The last thing she needed right now was another man in her life.

“So, what brings you to Montana?” he asked.

“My grandmother lives in Clancy.”

“Does she know you’ve been delayed? Would you like to call her?”

“Actually she doesn’t know I’m coming. I was planning to surprise her.” She sighed. “I guess I should have called first. She would have warned me about the storm.”

But Grandma would have heard the hurt and despair in her voice, and she would have ended up pouring out her troubles over the phone. She wanted to do it in person, where Grandma was close enough to offer the comfort of hugs, a cup of tea and warm cinnamon rolls.

“How’re the sore muscles?” Stone asked.

“Better for the most part. Except my right leg. Probably from slamming so hard on the brake pedal.”

“I can massage some of the knots out of it, if you’d like.”

The last time a guy had worked knots out of her muscles it had ended up costing her her business and close to every dollar she owned. “No, thanks. The aspirin will be kicking in soon.”

“Well, the offer stands, and I’m not trying to make a pass at you.”

The thought hadn’t even occurred to her. Maybe it should have. Was that his game, lulling her into complacency and then attacking?

Now don’t start that again, Patrice. He rescued you and has been a perfect gentleman.

Besides, with his looks, he probably has a steady woman in his life, or a string of women.

“I didn’t think you were trying to make a pass.”

Something flashed in his eyes. “And if I had been?”

She wasn’t sure if the sparkle in his eyes was laughter or something else entirely. Was he teasing or trying to gage her reaction to see if she might be receptive to a sexual advance? “But you weren’t.”

“You can use your imagination.”

No, that wasn’t a good idea. Her imagination could get her into a lot of trouble in this situation... especially since during the night she’d let it ponder the question of what it would feel like to have him turn a seductive gaze her way.

She wasn’t about to tell him that in the scenarios she’d envisioned, she had returned his advances with enthusiasm—melting into his arms, returning his kisses. And even worse was the possibility that if he were to make a real pass, she might be unable to stop herself from doing just that.

No one who knew her would believe her capable of such a wildly spontaneous action, but then they hadn’t laid eyes on Stone, or had him settle his baby blues on them.

Amazing how in less than twenty-four hours she’d grown less suspicious of him and more fascinated by his rugged masculinity. Amazing...since she’d always preferred the sophisticated business-suit type.

And look where that got you!

All the long hours and hard work she’d put into building her bookkeeping service and what did she have to show for it? An engagement ring, which had turned out to be a cubic zirconium, and her car, which was stuck in a ditch in the middle of a blizzard.

She hoped it would be all right, since she’d been planning on trading it in when she got home. She needed the cash to hold her until she found a job.

If her credibility wasn’t totally shot in the Phoenix area...

“Are you going to answer my question?”

“I really think it’s for the best if I don’t,” she admitted.

He shrugged. “Here’s an easier one. Are you planning to be at your grandmother’s long?”

“I’d thought about a week.”

“Will you be able to get an extension on your vacation time?”

“I’m, uh, between jobs at the moment.”

“A recent development?”

“Very recent.” She hadn’t been completely successful at keeping the catch out of her voice. “I guess I’ll check out the selection of books.”

She didn’t want to discuss her lack of a job, knowing that when she did the tears would come. She’d waited this long to share the tale and seek comfort in Grandma’s arms, she could wait another week or so.

Stone might offer the comfort of his arms...but could any red-blooded female be in them and only think of comfort?

Three

“Would we really lose that much heat if we opened the shutters?” Patrice asked late in the afternoon when she was about to go stir-crazy.

“It would get draftier.”

It was already drafty. “I’d just like to see some of the daylight.”

“Feeling closed in?”

She nodded.

Stone put on his jacket, scarf, hat and gloves. Once outside, he opened the shutters on the two windows on the front side of the cabin.

Patrice went over to look out. It was cloudy and overcast, but the sight of the meadow and what she could see of the trees through the snow was a nice break from the four walls of the cabin. At times she could see snowflakes falling to the ground, other times it seemed they were sailing horizontally across the sky.

Viewed through the intricate frost patterns on the window, everything was beautiful and picture-perfect.

For the first time since she’d discovered her ex-fiancé’s betrayal, a sense of peace settled over her. Yes, her life was a mess, but her life couldn’t reach her right now. The snow seemed like a protector. Instead of a barrier keeping her in, it was a shelter keeping the world out. She took a deep breath, letting it out slowly.

The prospect of being able to lick her wounds in peace sounded appealing. So far she’d focused on the financial end, but knew she couldn’t keep avoiding the most hurtful aspects of things—the emotional betrayal. Mountains of hurt and anger were building inside her...not just because he’d been enough of a creep to rob her blind, but because she’d been foolish enough to fall for him.

Stone passed in front of the window, carrying an armful of logs. She went to the door to let him in.

“Thanks,” he said, stomping the snow off his boots and returning to the warmth inside.

Patrice closed the door and took her place next to the window, letting the beauty entrance and soothe her once more. The sound of Stone stacking the wood became part of the assuagement.

“Do you get much snow in your part of Arizona?” He was now standing behind her.

She glanced over her shoulder at him. “How do you know I’m from Arizona?”

“Your license plate.”

“I’m from Phoenix. Snow is rare.” She looked back out the window. “It really is beautiful up here.”

“I’ve always thought so.”

“Do you get snowed in often?” she asked.

“Not for long, the main part of the ranch is at a lower elevation, and we have a snowplow.”

“Have you been stranded up here before?”

“I was up here last winter by myself for a week.”

“You were stuck here alone?”

“Yes.”

“Sounds scary. I’m glad you’re here with me.” She glanced over her shoulder. He’d moved a few steps closer.

His gaze dropped briefly to her lips then returned to her eyes. “Are you?”

Her heartbeat seemed to trip over itself, then picked up speed. If she turned and took a step, she could be in his arms.

His gaze found her mouth again, and she almost gave in to the temptation.

The crackle of a log in the fireplace stopped her in time. “Yes, I wouldn’t want to be here alone.”

A half smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Darlin’, if you had any idea what’s been going through my mind the last few minutes, you’d wish me out of here in a heartbeat.”

Quickly she turned back to the window. She thought about the way he’d looked at her mouth. Had he been thinking about kissing her, even as she’d been dreaming and pondering what it would feel like to have him turn the force of his charms her way?

Before she could change her mind, she turned fully around to face him. “Why do you say that?”

She thought he wasn’t going to answer, but then he said, “I’ve been wondering most of the day what it would feel like to kiss you, and the last few minutes I’ve been giving serious consideration to finding out.”

She caught her bottom lip between her teeth and nibbled on it. What would it feel like to kiss him?

“I’ve never been kissed by a man with a beard.” She had no idea why that fact had tumbled out of her mouth...maybe because it was harmless compared to the other thoughts she was having.

How can you want him to kiss you when you’ve known him less than a day?

He rubbed his fingers along his jawline. “I usually grow a beard in the winter. It helps keep my face warm.” He took half a step toward her. “It’s not as rough or scratchy as it looks.” He reached out and took her hand, bringing it to rest against his cheek.

Her breath caught in her throat. He was right, it wasn’t as rough as it looked. She could imagine the feel of it brushing against her cheeks...across the swell of her breasts...on the sensitive skin of her inner thigh....

There was a hint of warmth coming from his skin beneath. Her fingertips tingled, and she fought back the urge to run her thumb over the fullness of his bottom lip.

She looked into his eyes. They had darkened to a deeper, more striking blue. It would be too easy to let herself fall into them. She forced herself to blink, to break the spell.

“Why?” she asked.

“Why isn’t it as scratchy as it looks?”

“Why do you want to kiss me?”

“Why do you want me to?”

She pulled her hand from his face and moved away until she felt the cabin wall against her back. “I didn’t say that I wanted you to kiss me.”

He smiled. “You didn’t have to say the words, it was written all over your face.”

It crossed her mind to lie, but she told the truth. “I honestly don’t know why.”

He moved to the couch. “Is there a significant other waiting for you back in Arizona?”

She shook her head. “I was engaged, but that ended the same time I lost my job.”

“Were the two related?”

“Yes, but I’d rather not talk about it.”

He shrugged. “All right.”

“Is there a significant other waiting for you back at the ranch?”

A troubled look passed over his features. “No. I’m a widower.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s been two years.”

The obvious questions crossed her mind: How had he lost his wife, how long had they been married? But she didn’t want to pry. Besides, what mattered most was that he was currently unattached, and she was surprisingly glad.

She realized he hadn’t answered her question about why he’d wanted to kiss her. And apparently he’d changed his mind, since he stood so far away....

He rubbed his hand across his beard where she had so recently touched. “We could play some cards. There’s a deck in the cupboard. Unless you’d like to get back to your book?”

“Let’s try cards for a while. Although I’m afraid I don’t know many card games.”

They ended up pulling the cribbage board out of the game box. Patrice had never played, so Stone taught her. He was a thorough and patient teacher, She couldn’t stop from speculating whether he’d be a thorough and patient lover, as well.

Stone shuffled the cards. “Clancy is a fairly small town. What’s your grandmother’s name? I may know her.”

“Dorothy Winston.”

“Dorothy Winston? The Mrs. Winston that teaches at Clancy High?”

“She used to.”