her heart.
“Hello, Jake.”
Two
Hello, Jake?
That was all she could say? Standing in the middle of his field in a soaking-wet wedding gown, hovering over a mewling calf, and she says, “Hello, Jake”?
A groan rattled through him. When Jake had spotted that convertible on the side of the road, he’d figured someone was in trouble. That road only led to his and Don Wilson’s ranches, so there never was much traffic on it. Jake had expected to find some tourist lost in the storm or someone on their way to Don’s place.
He sure hadn’t expected a bride.
Let alone this particular bride.
Man, a day could really go to crap in a hurry, he told himself. Not twenty minutes ago he’d been feeling great. He should have known it wouldn’t last. But dammit, he never would have guessed that it would be Casey showing up out of nowhere just in time to ruin his good mood.
Ruefully, though, he admitted that her appearance did make a sort of karmic sense. He mentally bowed to the inevitable and asked, “What the hell are you doing here, Casey?” His gaze swept over her ruined bridal gown quickly. “Looking for a church, are we?”
“Running from a church, actually.”
“Uh-huh.” He leaned forward in the saddle. “And where’d you bury the groom?”
“It’s a long story.” Her face paled a bit.
“Naturally.”
Tipping her head back, she managed to swing her soggy veil out of her face long enough to look at him. Those green eyes of hers locked onto him, and Jake felt his insides tighten into knots.
“I’ll tell you all about it later,” she said stiffly. “But right now, would you mind helping me?”
No one should be able to look that good covered in mud, he thought absently. Then when desire began to rear its ugly head, he heard himself ask gruffly, “Help you what?”
“Save him.” She wagged her head at the calf still cradled in her arms.
No animal had looked less in need of saving. In fact, Jake admitted silently, he wouldn’t mind trading places with the damn thing. But he remembered clearly that even years ago, she’d had a soft heart for animals. He chuckled slightly as he recalled the year she’d realized hamburgers actually came from cows. She’d been horrified. Probably came from living in town all her life. Hell, the only time she or her brothers ever even saw an animal up close was when they came out to the ranch. Their parents had never allowed their children to have a pet of any kind.
Her brothers. Jeez, it had been a long time since Jake had seen the twins. Of course, between working twenty-five hours a day on the ranch and his brief but memorable marriage to Linda, he hadn’t had time for any of his old friends.
“Jake? Earth to Jake.”
“Huh?” He frowned and forced himself back to the problem at hand. “Oh, yeah. The calf. Save him from what?” He was too wet and cold and tired to be dealing with this. He’d learned long ago that when talking to Casey, it paid to stay alert. Even then, it often wasn’t enough.
“He’s scared,” she said.
“Scared?” Jake’s fingers tightened on the reins. Knowing he would regret it, Jake heard himself ask a question, anyway. “And just what is he scared of?”
“The storm, of course.”
The wind howled through the trees as if to underline her statement, and the calf squirmed against her. Casey’s eyebrows lifted and she nodded shortly as if to say, “See?”
Jake’s teeth ground together. She was as stubborn as ever. And as beautiful, his brain added, even with her hair hanging in limp soggy strands along her cheeks. Even with her wedding dress splotched with mud. Even with her emerald eyes squinted against the downpour. Uneasily Jake watched her widen her stance and wiggle her behind as she struggled to get a better grip on the animal.
Something hard and tight settled in his chest, wrapping itself around his lungs and heart. He struggled to draw a breath. Even after five years she still had the same old effect on him.
For the first time since leaving the ranch house, he was beginning to wish his Jeep wasn’t out of commission. At least then he’d be seated on a nice comfy bucket seat, instead of futilely trying to find a comfortable position in the saddle. Dammit. He’d always enjoyed riding in the rain.
Until now.
Immediately he told himself to get a grip. She was wearing a damned wedding gown. She’d said she was running from a church. But she hadn’t said whether she’d started running before or after the wedding.
The notion of Casey’s being someone else’s wife tightened that cold band around his chest another notch.
Rain pelted his hat and slicker. He felt the slap of each drop and welcomed it. At least he knew what to do about rain. She was another matter entirely.
“Are you going to climb down and help me or not?”
Jake shook his head, tightened his grip on the reins with one hand and rubbed his jaw viciously with the other. There was no way he’d be able to climb down from his horse and walk. Even if his rain slicker did hide his body’s reaction to her, his discomfort would be all too visible.
But he had to do something.
This ridiculous conversation was getting them nowhere.
“Cows live outside,” he said.
The calf bawled piteously.
Casey cooed in sympathy, then flashed Jake a hard look. “He’s just a baby.”
“Who weighs more than you do.”
A deep reverberating sound rolled out around them and Casey half straightened, still keeping her arms around the animal beside her.
“What was that?”
“That would be his mama, I’d bet,” Jake told her when she swiveled her head to look at him.
The calf called a quavering answer and its mother mooed back.
“Here she comes,” Jake said, and dipped his head toward the distant line of trees.
She looked in the direction he indicated and sucked in a quick breath. Mama indeed. A huge cow was lumbering toward her, moving much more quickly than Casey would have thought possible. Apparently her friend didn’t need saving as much as she did at the moment. Immediately she released the calf and started for the man and relative safety.
She grabbed up fistfuls of skirt, hiked the hem past her knees and trudged through the mud. The cow’s hoofbeats pounded against the sodden ground and sounded like native war drums to Casey. It seemed to take forever to cross the few feet of space separating her from the horse, and naturally Jake wasn’t offering the slightest bit of help.
