by Cindy Dees
He grinned. “Now and then. It takes about a fifty-mile hike with a full combat pack to get my attention. I’m actually out of shape right now. I started working out again this week, though. Give me a few months, and I’ll be back in battle trim.”
“Wow. I can’t wait to see how long you can go in bed then,” she teased.
“I’ll be happy to demonstrate.” He kissed her on the tip of her nose. “But right now, I’m starving. How about you?”
“Famished. Can I help cook?”
“Absolutely.”
They laughed and generally got in each other’s way until they managed to plate up cheese grits, sausage and a big bowl of cut fruit. They sat down beside each other on the sofa to eat.
They had just finished cleaning up when the sound of a loud motor approaching sent Brett over to one side of a front window to peer out cautiously. Anna tensed immediately. What threat did he sense? “Who’s out there?” she asked in alarm.
He glanced over at her, surprise written on his face. “It’s just my father.”
“Oh. The way you rushed over there and hid in the shadows made me worry.”
He blinked, looking surprised. “Sorry. It’s just habit. I was a soldier for a long time.”
When he was the gentle, funny, demanding lover in her arms, she forgot about the warrior he also was. She supposed he would always be a soldier at heart. There would always be some part of him that responded to threats in this way and that reacted instinctively to protect his loved ones. And that was okay. She could live with that side of him. She trusted that part of him never to hurt her.
Which was a weird sensation. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d trusted any man. And to trust one with hair-trigger reflexes honed to violence was the last thing she would have expected. But there it was. She trusted Brett Morgan.
She asked him, “Do you want me to make myself scarce in the bedroom?”
Brett threw her a startled look. “Of course not. We’re both consenting adults, not teenagers sneaking around. Besides, my father will be thrilled to see you.”
“Why?”
But there was no time for Brett to answer her question before John Morgan blew into the cabin on a gust of frigid wind. “I need your help, son—” He broke off and stared at her in open shock where she hovered in the doorway to the bedroom. A big smile broke across his face.
“Hi, Mr. Morgan,” she said shyly.
“Well, hello there, Anna. What a pleasure to see you!” John boomed. Huh. Brett hadn’t been wrong about the man’s enthusiasm at finding her here.
Morgan turned his attention back to his son. “I’m missing almost a hundred head of breeder cows. The new bull looks to have busted through the fence last night and led them out to the north range. Cloud ceiling is too low to take up the helicopter, so we’re going to have to find them and bring them in over land.”
Brett swore under his breath. “Lemme put on a few more layers of clothes and I’ll drive down to the house.”
“You’ll need to take the snowmobile. There’s three feet of snow on the ground outside.”
Anna gasped. Three feet? She rushed over to the window, and sure enough, the snow was almost up to the level of the porch, and Brett’s truck was buried past the tires. Winter was officially here. With a vengeance. “Can I help look for the cows?” she asked the older Morgan. “I know how to drive a snowmobile.”
“We’re all hands on deck right now. We could use the help if you’re willing.”
She nodded and headed for the bedroom after Brett to put on more clothes. They headed outside, and John bundled Reggie onto his snowmobile, riding in front of him, inside the circle of his arms. Meanwhile, she climbed on the snowmobile Brett pulled out of a shed behind the cabin, plastering her front to Brett’s back and hanging on tight. Her thighs cupped his, and the engine vibrated through her body provocatively. It was hard to believe that she could get so turned on after all the sex last night, but there was no mistaking the languid desire pulsing through her lower belly. She couldn’t get enough of this man.
Even through thick layers of both their coats, he was hard and strong and reassuring in her arms. What had she been thinking to send him away before? Although she still wasn’t sure exactly what he saw in her, she wasn’t about to fight against it any longer. She’d fallen, hook, line and sinker, for Brett Morgan.
When they got back to the main compound, he pointed the snowmobile toward the main barn, where a cluster of a dozen people stood around snowmobiles. Apparently, a batch of them had just come back from searching one part of the ranch, and a new batch was about to head out while the first ones warmed up and got a bite to eat.
A snowmobile was assigned to Anna, and as soon as it was fueled up, she followed the others onto the vast acreage. Even caught in the grip of winter, the ranch was breathtakingly beautiful. Stands of tall, fluffy pines drooped under blankets of snow, interspersed with the white skeletons of aspen trees. A wide creek ran swift and cold over a bed of gravel, its banks heavy with snow. And above it all the violet and black mountains loomed in breathtaking majesty. A sense of coming home enveloped her as she followed the trail broken by the other snowmobiles deep into the ranch’s splendor.
They reached the end of the trail, and John Morgan stopped to let everyone catch up with him. He gave terse instructions on who should fan out in which direction. She was given the task of heading east until she hit the fence line that paralleled the main road and then following it north.
Brett paused beside her long enough to warn her to be cautious of gullies along the drainage points leaving the property, and then he was off, roaring away in another direction.
She turned her machine toward the road, walkie-talkie tucked inside her coat to keep the batteries warm and operational. It was slow going breaking a trail through the deep snow, and more than once, she got showered in snow that got into the neck of her coat and stuck to her mittens. Thank goodness someone had given her a pair of thick wool felt mittens to go over her own knit mittens. Otherwise, she would already have frostbite.
Occasional vehicles came along the road just on the other side of the wire fence, and the drivers usually waved at her and smiled. She must look like a snowman riding a snowmobile. Every time she hit a deep spot in the snow, the treads threw up a rooster tail of snow that showered down on her. Snow stuck to her hat and shoulders and covered the snowmobile in white. It would be fun if the lives of a bunch of valuable and vulnerable cattle weren’t at risk.
She’d been riding along the fence for nearly an hour when she heard a gunshot ring out from somewhere nearby. She was passing through a copse of trees in a low area that came out to the road, exactly the kind of place the cows might have congregated to seek shelter from last night’s storm. She stopped and looked around. Was that gunshot a signal of some kind that they’d forgotten to tell her about? She pulled out her walkie-talkie to ask, when another shot rang out. Something flew past her face and she ducked instinctively. That had been a chunk of wood. What the heck?
A third gunshot rang out, and she swore she felt the bullet pass by her before it hit a tree and sent another barrage of splinters flying.
Holy crap. Someone was shooting at her!
Panic exploded in her chest.
Ducking low over her snowmobile, she gunned it, hanging on grimly as it jumped forward. She slid back on the seat and had to haul herself back into position using the handlebars as it bumped over uneven ground. Clinging to the machine grimly, she shot away from the road, which was her best guess as to where the bullets were coming from, based on which sides of the trees had been hit.
She wound through the trees and crashed through brush until the road disappeared from view. She kept going several more minutes for good measure, sticking to the woods for cover.
When she finally came to a stop, heart pounding a hole in her chest and her lungs achi
ng from the freezing-cold air, she looked around at trees and more trees stretching in every direction. Where was she?
It was really going to suck if the city slicker got lost looking for the lost cows and had to pull ranch hands away from the search for the missing cattle to rescue her. The sun was no help—it was completely hidden behind thick cloud cover.
As best she could tell, the ground was rising slightly in front of her. If she was lucky, that was west. She turned ninety degrees to the left, put the rise on her right, and moved out, praying she was headed south and back in the general direction of the main house.
She drove for what felt like forever. Surely she hadn’t come this far along the road. Had she overshot the main house? Was she even going in the right direction? She broke out into broad meadows sprawling in between stands of forest. Although they were beautiful, they did nothing to tell her where she was. She checked her cell phone for a signal but got nothing. No surprise way out here in the mountains.
More than once she pulled out the walkie-talkie to call for help, but unwillingness to be a burden made her shove it back inside her coat each time. She would figure this out herself, darn it. She could take care of herself!
She rode for perhaps another twenty increasingly panicked minutes. She was getting low on fuel, and the daylight was starting to fade. If she didn’t find the house soon, it was going to get dark, and then she’d be stuck out here for the night. The temperature was dropping, too.
She was about one minute from stopping for good and calling for help when the trees opened up in front of her. And there, across the valley, lay the glorious sight of the stone-and-log mansion and cluster of neat barns behind it. Tears squeezed out of her eyes and froze on her cheeks as she gunned the snowmobile across the valley.
A beautiful young woman with black hair and black eyes met her at the barn. “I’m Willa Mathers. Hank’s daughter. You must be Anna. You look half-frozen.”
“I am,” Anna replied. Now that her panic was draining away, she noticed the deep chill pervading her body. “Was somebody shooting a gun out by the main road a couple of hours ago? Was it a signal?”
Willa frowned. “We use the walkie-talkies to communicate. John doesn’t let anyone shoot or hunt on the ranch. The weanling horses look too much like deer, and Miranda would kill anyone who shot one of her horses.”
“Oh. Then I think someone shot at me when I was out by the road.”
Willa stared hard at her for a few seconds, and then pulled out a walkie-talkie and spoke quickly into it. Then she spoke very calmly to Anna. “Why don’t you go on into the house and get warm? I’ll put your snowmobile away for you. Brett will be here shortly.”
“Did you call him?” Anna asked accusingly.
“I did.” Willa looked at her compassionately. “If something happened to you, I’d hate to think what would happen to him. We’re just starting to get him back—thanks to you.”
Anna blinked, shocked. Thanks to her? “He’s the one saving me—” she started.
Willa waved off her words. “I’ve known Brett my whole life, and I’ve never seen him like he was when he came home a few months ago. He was getting worse, not better, until you came along. The whole family’s grateful to you.”
“I swear. I haven’t done anything special.”
Willa shrugged. “I’d love to sit down with you sometime and talk with you about what you did to get through to him. I’m writing my PhD dissertation on getting through to military patients with intractable psychological issues.”
Anna blinked. “Sounds rough.”
“It is. Hence my research in the field. Go on inside. I can hear your teeth chattering from here.”
Anna trudged up to the main house, and with every step, felt colder. By the time she reached the back door, her hands and feet were screaming with a thousand needles stabbed in them.
She stepped inside and Miranda exclaimed, “Good Lord, child. You look frozen! Take off all those wet clothes and go sit by the fireplace. I’ll bring you some hot spiced cider. When you’re warmed up, there’s a big pot of chili on the stove and plenty of food laid out.”
Anna stripped out of her sodden clothing and made her way to the giant hearth. Beneath a steady fire, a huge pile of coals poured out heat, and the stones she sat on soaked heat into her body. The hot mug Miranda brought her warmed her hands until her fingers started to itch ferociously. She knew better than to scratch her reddened flesh, and by the time she’d finished sipping the hot, cinnamon-laced cider, her hands felt better.
She made her way to the kitchen and was stunned by the volume of food there. It was enough to feed a small army. She ladled up a bowl of the thick, meaty chili that was spicy enough to warm her belly from the inside out. Anna was just mopping up the last of it with a hunk of corn bread when Brett burst into the house. He, too, was covered in snow and his cheeks were red.
He took one look at her and strode over to her, wrapping her up in a bear hug, snowy coat and all. She squealed as snow melted through her shirt and ran down her collar onto her neck. “I just got dry!” she exclaimed.
“Thank God, you’re all right,” he rasped. “Who shot at you?”
“I have no idea. As best I can tell, the shots came from the road. Could have been anyone driving by who saw me moving in the trees. They must have mistaken me for a deer.”
“You were a human wearing a red coat on a snowmobile,” he retorted.
“Yes, but I was covered in snow and down in a hollow. I’m sure it was nothing.”
“But what if it wasn’t?” he replied. The poor man sounded ravaged. “I’m not letting you out of my sight again until we get this thing with you sorted out.”
“There’s nothing to sort.” Although, as much as she wanted to believe that, she wasn’t 100 percent sure any more that it was true. It wasn’t deer hunting season, and everyone in these parts knew where the Runaway Ranch property lines were. It made no sense to shoot across a fence onto obviously private property.
Brett finally stepped back from her, and she shook off snow and water while he shed his outer layers of clothing. Anna became aware of Miranda standing at the kitchen sink, washing dishes while blatantly eavesdropping. She had no experience with big nosy families, but she supposed this was what one was like.
Over the next few minutes, several more ranch hands came inside to warm up and get a bite to eat. Darkness was falling fast outside. All at once, every walkie-talkie in the house flared to life.
“Found ’em!” someone called. “They’re foundering in deep snow and going to need help to get out of the ravine on the east side of Fly Creek by the north bend.”
Everyone but Anna groaned. She looked at Brett questioningly. “They’re way out at the north end of the valley. It’s going to take hours to bring them in. We’ll have to use snowmobiles to break a trail through the snow and then herd them down it. This is going to take a while.”
“Can I help?”
He kissed her briefly. “Stay here and help my mother cook more food. We’re going to need it when we get back later. And don’t leave the house until I get back. Promise me.”
She nodded and he kissed her again, hard and fast. But he still packed a world of care into it. With a last crooked grin for her, he hurried out the back door with the others.
Anna turned and found Miranda approaching her. The older woman wrapped her in a brief, hard hug that shocked Anna. Then she loosed Anna and said briskly, “How are you at peeling potatoes?”
Anna laughed. “Pretty good.”
“Then roll up your sleeves and let’s get to work.”
* * *
Brett paused outside the main house to have a word with Hank Mathers. He took the older man aside and said low, “Someone shot at Anna earlier. We need to leave a man or two here at the house to keep an eye on her. And they need to be armed.”
Hank n
odded grimly. “Don’t you worry, son. We take care of our own around here.” He thumped Brett affectionately on the shoulder.
Brett got the impression that Hank was talking about him, too. For the first time since he’d gotten home, family and friends’ concern didn’t feel like a burden. But when it came to Anna’s safety, he had no pride.
Bringing the herd of cattle home was cold, grueling work that took hours to complete. But at long last, the herd was locked inside a barn, heads counted, and miraculously, no cows appeared to have been lost.
Brett and the others trudged up to the main house, exhausted but pleased. It felt a lot like returning to base after a tough military mission successfully concluded. The same satisfaction coursed through him. Which stunned him. After he’d been involuntarily retired from the military, he didn’t think he would ever find anything to replace the feeling of a job well done in combat.
He took off his coat and went into the great room, where he spied Anna curled in a ball at one end of a big sofa, her cheek resting on her hands, fast asleep. Smiling, he scooped her up in his arms. She opened her eyes sleepily. “Are they okay?”
“The cattle? All under roof and none the worse for wear. They’re cozy in a barn and eating some hay.”
“Mmm. Good.” She snuggled into his arms, and his heart melted a little. At least she appeared to trust him without reservation when she was nearly unconscious. That was a start. He carried her upstairs to his old bedroom, which he hadn’t set foot in since he left to join the Army a decade ago.
Lord, it was exactly the way he’d left it. Newspaper clippings about his football team’s district win were still tacked to a corkboard. A trophy from a basketball tournament still stood on the dresser, and his varsity jacket still hung on a hook behind the door. Talk about walking into a time warp.
He tucked Anna into his double bed and crawled in beside her, fully clothed. It completely weirded him out to be lying in this bed with a woman. He half expected one of his parents to barge in here and ground him till the end of time for sneaking a girl into the house. But it would have felt weirder still to go to sleep without Anna safe in his arms where he could protect her.