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.
Just as that thought raced through her mind, though, he urged his mount closer, kicked free of a stirrup and held out one hand to her.
She looked up at him and didn’t see even the tiniest flicker of welcome in his blue eyes. She hesitated, glanced over her shoulder at the approaching two tons of offended motherhood and chose the lesser of two evils.
Slapping her hand into his, she felt his long callused fingers fold around hers in a firm grip. Ignoring the warm tingle of awareness sparking between them, she stuffed one muddied stockinged foot into the stirrup and allowed him to pull her up behind him on the saddle.
Immediately Jake turned his horse around and kneed it into a fast walk. After a few feet he pulled back on the reins, bringing the horse to a stop. He turned in the saddle to look behind him, and she shifted to follow his gaze.
She smiled as she watched the calf dip its head below its mother’s belly and nuzzle around for milk. Of course, the cow still didn’t look very happy with the two interfering humans, but at least Casey’s young friend was safe.
And so was she.
“Here,” Jake said, and dropped his hat onto her head.
She tipped the brim back and looked at him.
Rain flattened his thick black hair to his skull, and he reached up to brush it out of his way. His blue eyes were hard as he stared at her, but there was a spark of something else there, as well. Then in a heartbeat it was gone.
“I’ll take you to your car.”
“Don’t bother,” she told him, remembering that loud snap when she’d stomped on the brakes. “I think it’s broken down.”
“Perfect,” Jake grumbled, and turned the horse’s head. “Wrap your arms around my waist,” he said. “It’s about a ten-minute ride to the ranch from here.”
“What about my car?” She pointed at the abandoned convertible.
Jake frowned and spared the car a quick glance. “We can call for a tow from the house.”
When the big animal beneath her jumped into a canter, she jolted backward into nothingness. Quickly she reached for Jake and folded her arms around his hard flat stomach. Scooting in closer to him, she pressed herself against his back and felt his muscles bunch beneath her touch. A warm curl of something she hadn’t allowed herself to think about in five years began to thread its way through her body. She squeezed her eyes shut. She’d thought those feelings were gone forever. Lord knew, she’d worked hard at forgetting them.
But apparently she hadn’t worked hard enough. Here she was, less than ten minutes with the man, and her knees had turned to rubber. Maybe what she should do was dredge up that memory of the last time she’d seen him. Remember the embarrassment. The humiliation. Surely that would be enough to quell whatever lingering feelings she had for the man.
No. Immediately her mind rejected the plan. She wasn’t going to relive that night again. Not for any reason. Not if she could help it, anyway. Besides, she told herself, her reaction to Jake no doubt had more to do with her already emotional state than with the man himself.
She was so cold. So tired. She thought about resting her head on his back, but then reconsidered. No sense racing out to meet problems with open arms.
Deliberately she sat up straight and loosened her hold on his waist a bit. Instead of letting her mind wander down dangerous paths, she concentrated on moving with the familiar rhythm of the horse’s steps. Years of riding lessons at exclusive stables were finally paying off.
Jake sucked in a gulp of air and she thought he muttered something.
She shifted to one side, tipped her head back and asked, “What did you say?”
“Nothing,” he snapped. “And sit still, will you?”
He dropped her off at the back door to the house, then took his horse to the barn. In no hurry to join the woman waiting in the kitchen, he took his time in unsaddling his mount and drying him off. Only when the horse had been fed, watered and put away for the night did he step to the open doorway and look across the open ground at the house.
Bright light spilled out of the windows, layering the ground’s puddled water with brilliant splashes of color. He turned his head to look at the guest house, two hundred yards away. The lights there were off but for a single lamp left burning in what he knew was the living room. The blue Ford pickup was gone from the front of the house.
So, the foreman and his wife had gone into town despite the storm.
That left him and Casey entirely too alone for comfort.
And he couldn’t get rid of her anytime soon, either. With his Jeep not working and the pickup gone for who knew how long, they were stuck together.
Dammit, why did she have to show up here? And why was she still able to take his breath away with a single glance?
Grumbling at his own foolishness, he stepped out of the barn, shut the double doors behind him and walked into the wind and rain. He crossed the yard slowly, as if hoping the cold would erase the spark of heat she’d created when she’d wrapped her arms around him. But it didn’t help. The fire in his blood remained, and as he recalled the feel of her legs pressed along his own, his body tightened uncomfortably. Halfway to the house, he stopped dead and tilted his head back to glare at the stormy sky.
Hard heavy rain pummeled his face and chest. A cold fierce wind rushed around him, tugging at his coat with frigid fingers. He squinted against the icy pellets and noticed an occasional spot of feathery white drifting down toward him.
Perfect.
Snow.
“What did I ever do to you?” he demanded hoarsely of a silent heaven.
The snowflakes thickened amidst the raindrops.
Jake straightened, shook his head, then loped across the muddy ground to the back porch. He stripped off his slicker and snapped it in the air, shaking off most of the water. Then he dropped it onto the closest chair, stomped the mud from his boots and opened the door to meet trouble face-to-face.
She was standing in front of the kiva fireplace staring into the flames still dancing across the logs he’d laid earlier in the afternoon.
“You’re shivering,” he said lamely, and she
