Christmas at Thunder Horse Ranch

He climbed onto her snowmobile.

“You should take my coat. I bet you’re freezing.” Emma started to unzip her jacket.

He held up his hand. “Don’t. I can handle it for a little while and no use in both of us being cold.” He moved back on the seat and tipped his head. “Get on. I don’t know where you came from, but I hope it’s warmer there than it is here.”

Her lips twisted, but she didn’t waste time. She slipped her leg over the seat and pressed the start button. She prayed the bent skid, damaged in the collision, wouldn’t slow them down.

Once she was aboard, Dante wrapped his arms around her and pressed his body against her back, letting her body block some of the bitter wind.

It wasn’t enough. The cold went right through his underwear, biting at his skin. He started shaking before they’d gone twenty yards. By the time they topped a rise, he could no longer feel his fingers.

Emma drove the snowmobile along a ridge below which a tent poked up out of the snow. A truck and trailer stood on the ridge, looking to Dante like heaven.

When she pulled up beside the trailer, Emma climbed off, looped one of Dante’s arms over her shoulder and helped him into the trailer. It wasn’t much warmer inside, but the wind was blocked and for that Dante could be very grateful. The trailer consisted of a bed, a sink, a small refrigerator and a tiny bathroom.

“Sit.” Emma pushed him onto the bed, pulled off his boots and shoved his legs under the goose down blanket and a number of well-worn quilts. She handed him a dry washcloth. “Hold this on your shoulder so you don’t bleed all over everything.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said with a smile.

Her brows dipped. “Stay here while I get the generator running.” She opened the door, letting in a cold blast of air.

“Keep your eyes open,” he said through chattering teeth.

“I will.” She closed the door behind her and the room was silent.

Dante hunkered down into the blankets, feeling as though he should be the one out there stirring the generator to life. When Emma hadn’t returned in five minutes, he pushed the blankets aside, wrapped one around himself and went looking for her.

He was reaching for the doorknob when the door jerked open.

Emma frowned up at him, her dark hair dusted in snowflakes. “The generator’s not working.”

“Let me look at it,” he insisted.

She pushed past him, closing the door behind her. “It won’t do any good.”

“Why?”

“The fuel line is busted.” She held up the offending tube and waved him toward the bed. “Get back under the covers. At least we have a gas stove we can use to warm it up a little in here. I don’t recommend running it all night, but it’ll do for now.”

“Why don’t we get out of here?”

“It’s almost dark and it started snowing pretty hard, I can barely see my hand in front of my face. It’s hard enough to find my way out here in daylight. I’m not trying in the dark and especially not in North Dakota blizzard conditions.”

“I need to let the base know what happened.” He glanced around. “Do you have any kind of radio or cell phone?”

“I have a cell phone, but it won’t work out here.” She shrugged. “No towers nearby.”

His body shook, his head ached and his vision was hazy. “I need to get back.”

“Tomorrow. Now go back to bed before you fall down. I’m strong, but not strong enough to pick up a big guy like you.”

Dante let Emma guide him back to the bed and tuck him in. When she smoothed the blankets over his chest, he grabbed her hand.

Her gaze met his as he carried her hand to his lips and kissed the back of her knuckles. “Thanks for saving my life.”

Her cheeks reddened and she looked away. “You’d have done the same.”

“I doubt seriously you’d be shot down from the sky. Your feet are pretty firmly on the ground.” He smiled. “Paleontologist, right?”

She nodded.

“Isn’t it a little late in the season to be at a dig? I thought they shut them down when the fall session started.”

She shrugged. “With our unseasonably warm weather, I’ve been working this dig every weekend since the semester started.”

“Until recently.”

“Since it snowed a few days ago, I figured I’d better get out here. I’d heard more snow was coming, and I needed to dismantle my tent and bring it in.” She stared toward the window as if she could see through the blinding snow.

“I take it you didn’t get the tent down in time.”

She gave him a little crooked smile. “A downed helicopter distracted me.”

“Well, thank you for sacrificing your tent to be a Good Samaritan.”

Her cheeks reddened and she turned away. “Let’s get that shoulder cleaned up and bandaged.”

She wet a cloth and returned to the bedside. Pushing the fabric of his thermal shirt aside, she washed the blood away.

Her fingers were gentle around the gash.

“It’s just a scratch.”

Her lips quirked. When she’d washed away the drying blood, she applied an antiseptic ointment and a bandage. “As it is, it was just a flesh wound, but it wouldn’t do to get infected.” Patting the bandage, she stepped back, the color higher in her cheeks. “I’ll make you a cup of hot tea, if you’d like.”

Studying her face, Dante found he liked the way she blushed so easily. “Have any coffee?”

“Sorry. I didn’t expect to have guests.”

“In that case, tea would be nice.” Dante glanced around the tiny confines of the trailer. “Aren’t you afraid to come out to places like this alone?”

Emma reached for two mugs from a cabinet. “Why should I be? It’s not like anyone else comes out here.”

“What if you were to get hurt?”

She shrugged. “It’s a chance I’m willing to take.”

“As close as it is to the border, you might be subject to more than just an elk hunter or farmer.”

“I have a gun.” Emma opened a drawer and pulled out a long, vintage revolver.

Dante grinned. “You call that a gun?”

She stiffened. “I certainly do.”

“It’s an antique.”

“A Colt .45 caliber, Single Action Army revolver, to be exact.”

Nodding, impressed, Dante stated, “You know the name of your antiques.”

Her chin tipped upward. “And I’m an expert shot.”

“My apologies for doubting you.”

The wind picked up outside, rocking the tiny trailer on its wheels.

Emma struck a long kitchen match on the side of a box and lit one of the two burners on the stove. A bright flame cast a rosy glow in the quickly darkening space. She filled a teakettle with water from a large water bottle and settled it over the flame. “I have canned chili, canned tuna and crackers. Again, I hadn’t planned on staying more than a couple of nights. I was supposed to head out before the weather laid in.”

Despite his injuries, Dante’s stomach grumbled. “I don’t want to take your food.”

She leveled her gaze at him. “I wouldn’t offer if I didn’t have enough.”

“Then, thank you.”

She opened two cans of chili and poured them into a pot, lit the other burner and settled the food over the flame.

Before long the teakettle steamed and the rich aroma of tomato sauce and chili powder filled the air. Emma moved with grace and efficiency, the gentle swell of her hips swaying from side to side as she moved between the sink and the stove. Dante’s groin tightened. Not that she was his typical type.

Emma appeared to be straitlaced and uptight with little time in her agenda for playing the field, as proved by their one date that had gone nowhere. Still, it didn’t give him the right to go after her again.

He shoved aside the blanket and tried to stand. “I should be helping you.” A chill hit him, penetrating his long underwear as if he wore nothing at all.

“Stay put.” She waved in his direction. “There’s little enough room in the trailer without two people bumping into each other. And I’ve got this covered.” She shed her jacket and hung it on a hook on the wall.

“I can at least get the plates and utensils down and set the table.” He glanced around. “Uh, where is the table?”

Emma grinned. “It’s under the bed. You were lying on it.”

He gave her a half bow. “Where do you propose we eat?”

“On the bed.” She grinned. “Picnic-style.”

“Do you always eat in the bed?” Images of the slightly stiff Emma wearing a baby-doll nightgown, sitting on the coverlet, eating chocolate-covered strawberries popped into Dante’s head. He tried but failed to banish the thought, his groin tightening even more. The slim professor with the chocolate-brown hair and eyes, and luscious lips tempted the saint right out of him. And the kicker was that she didn’t even know she was so very hot.

“I don’t usually have company in my trailer. I can eat wherever I want. In the summertime, I sit on a camp stool outside and watch the sun set over the dig.”

He could picture the brilliant red, orange and mauve skies tinting her hair. “I’ll consider it an adventure.” He reached around her and opened one of the overhead cabinet doors. “Where are the dishes and utensils?” As he leaned over her, the scent of roses tantalized his nostrils. Her hair shone in the light from the flame on the stove as much as he thought it might in the dying embers of a North Dakota sunset. Despite having shed her coat, the thick sweater, turtleneck and snow pants hid most of her shape. But he could remember it from the class he’d audited while attending the university in Grand Forks.

He tucked a hair behind her ear. “Why was it we only went out once?”

Her head dipped. “One has to ask for a second date.”

Dante gripped her shoulders gently and turned her slowly toward him. “I didn’t call, did I?” He stared down at her until she glanced up.

Her lips twisted. “It’s no big deal. We only went out for coffee.”

Dante swallowed hard. He remembered. It had been shortly before a particularly harsh bout of depression. One of his buddies from the army had been shot down in Afghanistan. He’d wondered if he’d stayed in the army if he could have changed the course of events, perhaps saved his friend or if he would have died in his place. Losing his fiancée and his friend so soon afterward made him question everything he’d thought he’d understood—his role in the war on terrorism, his patriotism and his faith in mankind. It had been all he could do to get out of bed each morning, go to work and fly the border missions.

“I’m sorry.” He brushed a thumb across her full lower lip and then bent to follow his thumb with his mouth. He’d only meant to kiss her softly, but once his lips touched hers, he couldn’t stop himself. A rush of hunger like he’d never known washed over him and before he realized it, he was crushing her mouth, his tongue darting out to take hers.

When he raised his head, he stared down at her through a haze of lust, wanting to drag her across the bed and strip her of every layer of clothing.

Her big brown eyes were wide, her lips swollen from his kiss and pink flags of color stained her cheeks.

Dante closed his eyes, forcing himself to be reasonable and controlled. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”

“I don’t—” she started.

The teakettle whistled.

Emma jerked around to the stove, one hand going to the handle of the kettle, the other to her lips.

Dante retrieved bowls from the cabinet and spoons from a drawer and stepped back, giving her as much space as the interior of the trailer would allow.

The wind churned outside, wailing against the flimsy outer walls, the cold seeping through.

As she poured the water into the mugs, Emma’s hand shook.

Kicking himself for his impulsive act, Dante vowed to keep his hands—and lips—to himself for the duration of their confinement in the tight space.

Since resigning his commission, Dante hadn’t considered himself fit for any relationship. He’d come back to North Dakota, hoping to reclaim the life he’d known growing up. But the transition from soldier to civilian had been anything but easy. Every loud noise made him duck, expecting incoming rounds from hidden enemies. Until today, it had only been noise. Today he’d been under attack and he hadn’t been prepared.

Emma dipped a tea bag in each mug until the water turned the desired shade. Then she pulled the bags out and set them in the tiny sink. “I’m sorry, I don’t have milk or lemon.” She held out a mug to him. “Sugar?”

The way her lips moved to say that one word had him ready to break his recent vow. “No, I’ll take it straight.”

When she handed him the mug, their hands touched and an electric surge zipped through him. He backed away and his knees bumped into the mattress, forcing him to sit and slosh hot tea on his hand. The scalding liquid brought him back to his senses.

Emma spooned chili into bowls and handed one to him. “Who would shoot you out of the sky?” She cradled her bowl in both hands, blowing the steam off the top.

“I have no idea.”

“As a border patrol agent, have you pissed off anyone lately?”

He shook his head. “Not anyone who would have the firepower that man had. He used a Soviet-made RPG from what I could tell. How the hell he got ahold of one of those, I don’t know.”

“How’d he know you’d be here?”

“I was responding to a call from my base that a man had crossed the U.S.-Canadian border on a snowmobile in this area. I can only assume it was him.”

“Could be someone with a gripe against the border patrol.”

“Yeah. I wish I could get word to my supervisor. They’ll be freaking out right about now. A missing helicopter and pilot is a big deal.”

“Would they send out a rescue team?”

“In this weather, I don’t see how.”

“Hopefully, it’ll be gone in the morning.” She stirred her chili. “If they don’t come looking for you, we’ll do our best to drive out and find a farmer with a landline so that you can call back.”

He nodded. “A lot of people will be worried. That’s an expensive piece of equipment to lose.”

“Seems to me that a skilled pilot is harder to replace.” Emma took a bite of her chili and chewed slowly.

Dante shrugged. Everything would have to wait until tomorrow. In the meantime... “It’s getting colder outside.”

“I have plenty of blankets for one bed.” She stared at her empty bowl and a shiver shook her body. “Without the generator, we’ll have to share the warmth.” Her gaze clashed with his, hers appearing reserved, wary.

His lips thinning, Dante raised his hands. “I’m sorry about the kiss. I promise to keep my hands to myself.”

Before he finished talking, Emma was shaking her head. “It’s going to get really cold. The only way to stay warm is to stay close and share body warmth.”

Dante swallowed hard, his body warming at the thought.

He set his empty chili bowl in the sink and took hers from her, laying it on top. “We’re adults. This doesn’t have to be awkward or a big deal,” he said while his body was telling him, Oh, yes it does!

Chapter Three

Emma stared at the bed, her heart thumping against her ribs, her mouth going bone-dry. If it wasn’t so darned cold in the trailer, she’d sit up all night on the camp stool.

No, she wasn’t afraid of Dante. Frankly, she was afraid of her body’s reaction to being so close to the tall, dark Native American.

Too awkward around the opposite sex in high school, she’d focused instead on excelling in her studies. While girls her age were kissing beneath the bleachers, she was playing the French horn in band and counting the minutes until she could go back home to her books.

College had been little better. At least her freshman roommate in the dorm had seen some potential in her and shown her how to dress and do her hair and makeup. She’d even set her up on a blind date, which had ended woefully short when she had yanked her hand out of his when he’d tried to hold it.

For all her schooling, she was remarkably unschooled in the ways of love.

The wind moaned outside, sending a frigid chill raking across her body. Her hands shaking, she pushed the snow pants down over her hips and sat on the side of the bed to pull off her boots, slipping the pants off with them. Then she slid beneath the covers in her thermal underwear, sweater and turtleneck shirt and scooted all the way to the other side of the small mattress.

What man could lust after a woman covered from neck to feet? Not that she wanted him to lust after her. What would she do? Heaven help her if he should find out she was a virgin at the ripe old age of twenty-six.

Emma lay on her back, the blankets pulled up to her chin and her eyes wide in the dim glow of the stove’s fire. “You’ll need to turn off the flame before we go to sleep.” Perhaps in the dark she’d felt less conspicuous and self-conscious.

Dante reached for the knob on the little stove and switched it off. The flame disappeared, throwing them into complete darkness.

The blanket tugged against her death grip, and the mattress sank beneath the big man’s weight. “Don’t worry. I promise not to touch you.”

Damn, Emma thought. With a man as gorgeous as Dante Thunder Horse lying next to her, what if she wanted him to touch her? Then again, one close encounter with her bumbling, shy inexperienced self and he’d disappear, just like he had the last time she’d gotten up the courage to go out for coffee with him.

He stretched out alongside her, his shoulder and thigh bumping against her.

A ripple of anticipation fluttered through her belly, followed by a bone-rattling shiver as the cold seeped through the three blankets, her sweater and thermal underwear.

“This is foolish. We won’t last the night in the frigid cold without heat.” He turned on his side and reached around her.

“W-what are you doing?” she squeaked as his hand brushed across her breast.

“We’re both fully clothed, which, by the way, isn’t helping matters. We’re both adults and we’re freezing. The best way to warm up is to share heat.”

“That’s what we were doing.”

“Not like this.” He rolled her onto her side, pulled her against him and spooned her backside with his front, his arm draped around her middle. “Better?”

Her pulse pounded so loud she could barely hear him, but she nodded and whispered, “Better.” Far too much better.

As she lay in the dark, cocooned in blankets and a handsome man’s arms, part of her was freaking out, the other part was shouting inside, Hallelujah!

“Let’s go to sleep and hopefully the storm will have passed by morning.”

Sleep? Was he kidding? Every cell in her body was firing up, while her core was in meltdown stages. Little shivers of excitement ignited beneath her skin with his every movement. His warm breath stirred the tendrils of hair lying against the side of her throat and all she could think of was how close his lips were to her neck. How likely was he to repeat the kiss that happened just a few moments ago?

If she turned over and faced him, would he feel compelled to repeat the performance? Did she dare?

“You smell nice. Like roses.” His chest rumbled against her back, his arm tightening around her middle.

“Must be my shampoo. It was a gift from a friend.” As soon as she said it, she could have kicked herself. Why couldn’t she just say thank you like any other woman paid a compliment?

“Am I making you nervous?” he asked.

“I’m not used to having a man...spoon me.”

“Seriously?” His thighs pressed against the backs of her legs and one slid across hers. “They were missing out. You’re very spoonable.”

She bit her bottom lip, afraid to admit she was a failure at relationships and scared off the men who’d ever made an attempt to get to know her. “I’m not good at this.”

“It’s as natural as breathing,” he said, his big hand spanning her belly. “Speaking of which, just breathe,” he whispered against her ear.

His words had the opposite effect, causing her breath to lodge in her throat, her heart to stop for a full second and then race to catch up.

Her arm lay over his and she wasn’t sure what to do with her hand. When she let it relax, it fell across his big, warm one.

“Your fingers are so cold,” he said.

She jerked her hand back. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. Let me have them.” He felt along her arm until he located her hand and enveloped it in his. “Tuck it beneath your shirt, like this.” He slipped his hand with hers under the hems of her sweater and thermal shirt, placing them against the heat of her skin. “You’re as stiff as a board. Are you still cold?” He moved his body closer.

“Yes,” she lied. Inside she was on fire, her nerve synapses firing off each time he bumped against her.

His fingers curled around hers, his knuckles brushing against her belly. “You really haven’t ever snuggled with a man?”

Not trusting her voice, she shook her head.

“Then you haven’t found the right one.” Dante’s lips brushed the curl of her ear.

She lay for a while basking in the closeness, letting her senses get used to the idea of him being so near, so intimate.

Without the heat from the stove top, the trailer’s interior became steadily colder and Dante’s hand holding hers inched upward beneath her shirt. “Just tell me if you want me to stop.”

Oh, heck no. If anything, she wanted him to move faster and cup her breasts with that big, warm hand. A shiver of excitement shook her.

“Still cold?”

“Yes.” So it was a half truth. The parts of her body against his were warm, the others were cold and getting colder.

“Sharing body heat works better when you’re skin to skin.” His knuckles nudged the swells of her breasts.

Her breath caught in her throat when she said, “I know.” Emma bit her bottom lip, wondering if Dante would take her words as an invitation to initiate the next move.

“I don’t know about you, but it’s getting pretty damn cold in here. If we want to keep warm all night, we’d better do what it takes.” He removed his hand from her belly and rolled onto his back.

The cold enveloped her immediately and she scooted over to lie on her back as well, tugging the blanket up to her nose.

Dante sat up next to her, tugging the blanket aside, letting even colder air beneath.

“What are you doing?” she said through chattering teeth.

“Getting naked.” His movements indicated he was removing his thermal shirt and stuffing it beneath the covers down near his feet. He slid his long underwear over his hips, his hands bumping into her thigh as he pushed them all the way down to his feet.

“Now your turn.” He reached for the hem of her sweater and dragged it over her head.

“Are you crazy? It’s f-freezing in here.” She tried to keep her turtleneck shirt on, but he was as determined to remove that as he’d been with the sweater.

“Again, we’re adults. If it helps, just think of me as a big electric blanket to wrap around you.” He stuffed her shirt and sweater into the space around her feet and went to work on the long thermal underwear, dragging them down over her legs.

By the time he had her stripped to her bra and panties, she was shaking uncontrollably. “I was w-warmer b-before you s-started,” she said through chattering teeth.

“You’ll be warm again. Come here.” He dragged the blanket over them and pulled her close, crushing her breasts against his chest, his big arms wrapping around her back, tucking the blanket in as close as he could get it.

Their breath mingled, the heat of their skin, touching everywhere but her bra and panties, helped to chase away the chills. But Emma still couldn’t stop shaking. She’d never lain nearly naked with a man. She had trouble breathing and couldn’t figure out where her hands were supposed to be. Planting them against his chest was putting too much space between them and allowing cold air to keep her front chilled. She tried moving them down to her side, but her fingers were cold and she wanted them warm. When she slipped them around to her belly, they bumped against a hot, stiff shaft.