“All right.” Cass got to her feet, wondering at the abrupt change of subject. Perhaps she’d prodded a bit too much. Gotten too friendly, when it was clear she was just another ranch chore to be looked after. To Eli, she was another cow, another chicken, another horse—heck, another dog—to feed.
The thought was a depressing one.
* * *
• • •
The chickens were put back into the warm coop after a brief bout of freedom, and then Eli told her that he needed to feed the cattle and she should head inside. They’d get the tree later.
Cass wondered if they were going to get a tree at all, and she felt a little guilty for even asking about it. Today was the first day she’d seen how much Eli did around the ranch, and it was intimidating to realize that he never stopped moving, and that there were always more chores to be done.
Since she didn’t want to be underfoot, she went inside with Frannie, who hung out near her legs, watching her and making Cass feel even more helpless because the dog was so attentive. She rubbed the furry white head as she stared out the window, watching Eli as he worked. He was a distant dark speck in the pastures, moving among the cattle and then taking a tractor-looking contraption out and bringing bale after bale of hay into the field. It began to snow again, big fat flakes that drifted onto the already thickly blanketed snow on the ground. With every flake that fell, she knew it was going to be that much longer for her to go back home.
Wherever home was.
For now, it was this ranch, and so she needed to not be a burden. Cass found an absolute crap-ton of eggs in the ranch’s large walk-in freezer in the basement, which explained why the chickens weren’t laying in winter, she supposed. They laid like fiends during the summer months. She moved some of the eggs to the fridge and then made egg salad sandwiches. For some reason, she knew how to make egg salad, so she guessed she wasn’t totally vegan. She made extra sandwiches and put them in the fridge, propped up a note on the table to let Eli know, then bundled up and went out to give the chickens round two of their food.
By the time that was done, she was tired and her head throbbed. There was an old stereo with a CD player, and she found a bunch of classical music and a copy of The Nutcracker, so she put it on. Time to Christmas this place up. But by the time she pulled out a few neatly organized boxes of Christmas decorations and moved them into the living room, Eli’s pillow and blanket on the sofa were too much to resist.
“Just a quick nap,” she told Frannie with a yawn. “Recharge my energy and then go out and feed the chickens. Again.”
Frannie just wagged her tail.
“Right. Sounds good to me, too.” She patted the sofa, because if she squeezed up against the back of the couch, there’d be room for her and the dog both, and cuddle-company sounded nice. The dog hesitated long enough to make Cass wonder if Frannie wasn’t allowed on the sofa, but then she jumped up and lay down next to her, and it was so nice and snuggly that she didn’t care. Pregnant mamas needed naps, too. Cass sighed and closed her eyes, resting her head against the pillow.
She’d just rest for a minute. That was all. The “Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy” swirled around her, and Frannie laid her head against Cass’s arm, and she dozed off.
* * *
• • •
A crash woke her up.
Cass jerked awake even as Frannie scrambled off the couch. She rubbed her eyes, squinting at the large window in the living room. It was nearly dark outside, the snow a purplish blanket on the ground. Oh no. She’d slept for longer than she thought. “The chickens,” she murmured aloud to herself, flinging the blankets aside and sliding her legs over the side of the couch. It was dark inside, and she hadn’t fed the woodstove, so it was also cold.
“They’re fed,” came a gruff voice from the far end of the room. Eli. “Go back to sleep. I knew it was too much for you to do. That’s my fault. I shoulda made you just nap all day.”
“It wasn’t,” she exclaimed, a sinking sensation in her stomach. She’d messed up. She’d fallen asleep and he’d counted on her and she’d failed him. “I promise it won’t happen again, Eli. I didn’t mean to sleep so long.” She stumbled over the blankets and moved across the room, flicking on the light switch. Cass turned around. “I’m so sorry. I—”
She stopped.
In the opposite corner of the room, the cowboy had dragged in a massive Christmas tree. It was clear he’d just cut it down, as it was dripping snow and water all over the floors, and pine needles were everywhere. It didn’t matter. He’d gone out and gotten her a tree. She felt suspiciously like weeping. “I slept through getting the tree? I’m so mad. I wanted to help.”
Eli’s mouth crooked up on one side. He let the tree thump to the floor, and it made another horrific crashing sound. She wondered if there was ice on the dang thing. Probably. “You were tired, so I let you sleep. Figured I could go out and get you a tree.” He gestured at it with one glove. “This one okay or do you need something bigger?”
Bigger? Cass was pretty sure if you stood this one up on end, it’d be at least a foot or two taller than her, and the branches were fat and thick. “I don’t think bigger would fit inside this house.”
“Sure it could.” He turned around. “Give me an hour and I can have a larger one back—”
“No,” Cass blurted, moving forward to stop him. “No. I love this one. Don’t go get another.”
He paused, tilting back the brim of his hat as if suspicious of her answer and needing a closer look. “You sure?”
“I’m sure. It’s wonderful. I’m just surprised you brought it back.” She pressed her hands over her rapidly beating heart. “I thought you’d skip it since I didn’t go.”
“Even I could tell you were tired.” His voice was soft, soothing. “It’s been days since you had a brutal accident, Cass. You need to rest. If that means you take a lot of naps, then you take a lot of naps. I’d rather you do that than push yourself too hard and get hurt again.” He pulled off his hat, and his hair was sweaty and rumpled underneath it. “Let me strip down and I’ll help you set it up.”
“Strip down?” she squeaked, surprised. “You’re going to get naked?”
“Get naked? What? No.” His eyes went wide and she could have sworn a hint of a blush crossed his tanned face. “No, I meant get out of these extra layers. The cattle are all fed for the night.”
“Oh.” Now she was blushing, too. Of course that was what he meant. There was no such thing as naked Christmas-tree trimming. At least, she didn’t think so. “Wait—I should feed the chickens one last time—”
“All done. No more chores for today. All you have to do is relax.” He winked at her, the movement so natural and easy that she felt like hugging him. Why was he so wonderful?
“I wanted to help,” she told him, feeling silly and useless. “I really did.”
“I know.” Eli’s smile was so warm and genuine that she felt her body heat up in response. “But just having company for the long winter nights is enough right now. Don’t worry about it.”
“I’m not worried,” Cass protested, moving closer to him. She told herself it was because she wanted to look at the tree, but the truth was, it was impossible to look away from his magnetic gaze. Was he sweaty? Yes. Was he tired? Yes. Was he still utterly gorgeous? Oh yes. If he was hers, she wouldn’t care about a bit of sweat or dirt. She’d curl her hands in that jacket of his and pull him against her for a long, swoon-worthy kiss that would make her toes curl. He had a nice mouth for kisses, she determined after studying him for a moment. Firm but with full enough lips that it’d be a pleasure to taste him.
He stared down at her for a long moment, and she realized she was gazing at his mouth. She also realized she was standing so close to him that it wouldn’t take much for them to kiss. He would just need to lean down a little, and she could wrap her arms around his neck . . .
> The room felt charged with electricity, and she gazed up at him, holding her breath. The look in Eli’s eyes was soft as he regarded her, and for a time, it felt as if he was going to touch her. That he’d take the first step and put a hand around her waist and pull her against him. That he’d kiss her. The air practically crackled with attraction, and she knew she wasn’t imagining it.
Eli wanted to kiss her. His gaze flicked to her mouth and his lips parted.
Yes, she thought. Now. Do it. Kiss me. It seemed so natural. Hadn’t they been fighting attraction for what felt like days? She’d thought her world was upended when she lost her memories, but having Eli here with her, at her side, made her feel . . . anchored. Safe. Like it wasn’t a problem. Like the Cass she was right now wasn’t lacking. She was just . . . perfect.
So she waited, her face upturned, her eyes dreamy. Waited for him to make the first move. His lips were so close to hers, and her skin tingled with the moment.
He leaned in. “I should go change,” he murmured, and then headed to the kitchen, leaving her alone in the living room. “Be back in a flash so we can put that tree up.”
Oh.
“Okay,” she said, and was proud that her voice didn’t wobble. All right, maybe they weren’t feeling a shared attraction. Maybe she was the only one that had felt it. That stung a little. But she’d thought for sure that there was loneliness in his eyes, and she’d understood that.
She’d thought maybe they wouldn’t have to be lonely anymore because they could have something together. But maybe that was just wishful thinking.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Cass was quiet as Eli fitted the trunk of the tree into a base and set the entire thing upright in a corner of the living room, far away from the woodstove. She had him turn the thing this way and that, trying to get the fullest part of the tree visible. She directed him with words and gestures, of course, but the openness she’d had earlier was gone.
He supposed that was his fault. He hadn’t meant to practically kiss her. It had just happened. He’d returned to the house, tired and a little irritated that the chickens hadn’t been fed one last time. It was dark and cold, and the snow was pouring down again. But the moment he’d gotten inside the ranch house, the way he’d felt changed. She’d looked so pretty and soft sleeping on the couch under his blankets that it had made his body react with fierce hunger. With need and longing. She was so innocent and lovely as she slept, and he could have woken her up with a kiss like they did in the fairy tales.
Instead, he’d gone outside to feed the chickens and scrubbed his overheated face in a handful of snow.
He’d almost broken his own word. Eli had vowed to never make Cass feel unsafe while she was stuck up here with him. Of course, the moment she woke up, what did he do? Loom over her and practically kiss her because she was so damned sweet that he couldn’t resist.
He’d ruined whatever they’d had going. That energy between them. That easy camaraderie that sometimes morphed into something else, something deeper, better. That budding something. Now she stood awkwardly with her arms crossed over her chest, and he didn’t know what to say. They both just stared at the tree in the corner of the room.
“Thank you,” she said after a moment. “I know it doesn’t seem like I’m grateful, but I am.”
“Didn’t say that. You’ve got a lot going on, that’s all.” His tone was flat. He was disappointed in himself. If she didn’t smile anymore because she didn’t feel comfortable around him . . . he’d never stop blaming himself. She needed safety right now more than she needed a cowboy slobbering all over her. “Least you got your tree,” he added lamely.
“We have a tree,” she corrected. “And tomorrow, I’m going to decorate it.”
Eli glanced over at her and her eyes were shining with happiness just staring at that stupid tree. Like it meant something to her. Like it represented more than just a holiday where people handed out cheap garbage gifts and pretended like they meant something. Like it was more than just commercialized nonsense. He didn’t say that, of course. He didn’t want to see the light go out of her eyes. So all he said was, “It’s nice.”
Cass smiled at him, and she was so lovely that his heart near broke in his chest. He wanted to smile back at her, but he didn’t trust himself.
After a moment, her smile faltered and she gestured at the kitchen. “I made egg salad sandwiches. If you’re hungry.”
He nodded. “Thank you. That’s kind of you.” Inwardly, he was thinking back to her last attempt at cooking. Egg salad sandwiches sounded like something that could go very, very wrong. He’d eat every damn bite, though, if it would make her happy.
“I made enough for both of us,” she told him, and brushed past to move into the kitchen. Her arm grazed against his and Eli could have sworn that it sent a shock wave through his body. “Wash up and then we’ll eat. I’ll put on some coffee.”
Coffee with egg salad for dinner? “Just water for me, thanks. And I’ll be right back.” He headed to the mudroom, stripped off his layers, and then went to the guest bathroom of the ranch house—since his was attached to his room, and to get there he’d have to go through his bedroom, which was currently hers, and that would have felt like a violation of her privacy. He splashed off the worst of his grime and soaped his face and hands, then dried off with a red towel. When he pulled it away from his face, he saw a Santa figure staring back at him. Damn. Even here he couldn’t get away from Christmas. She was mighty determined to make the house festive, wasn’t she?
Instead of being annoyed by it, he was starting to think it was . . . cute. Sweetly idealistic. That was the kind of person Cass was, he figured. Seeing the best in people and situations. Trying to smile through life. Not like him, where everything had made him bitter early, and now all he wanted to do was put his head down and plow through each day.
He quickly changed into a plain white shirt and pulled it down over his head even as he came into the kitchen. “I appreciate you making food, but you don’t have to—” Eli paused when he saw her blank expression. She had a plate full of sandwiches in her hand, but her gaze was locked onto him. Specifically, on his abdomen . . . which she might have just seen. “Everything all right?”
“Oh my, yes,” she breathed, and then jerked her attention back to his face, a guilty look on her features. “I mean no. I mean . . . what was the question?” Flustered, she moved to the table, now set with two big glasses of water, and placed the sandwiches between the plates. “Here, let’s sit and eat.”
Eli watched as she slammed into her seat, avoiding looking in his direction. He rubbed his stomach. He didn’t have tattoos or any piercings under there, so all she’d have seen was his stomach, and he wasn’t out of shape or anything. She was acting like she’d seen his dick, which was pretty odd. He couldn’t figure out what she was thinking.
Sitting down, he took one of the sandwiches and ate a careful bite. Not bad. He ate an entire sandwich and picked up another before noticing she was only nibbling on hers and feeding bites to Frannie under the table. If it was one of the other ranch hands, he’d have reached over and smacked the sandwich out of his hand for ruining the dog—because a dog given scraps begs forever. But with Cass, he couldn’t get mad. She had a soft heart for his Frannie, and he loved that.
So all he said was, “Might want to share with Jim and Bandit, too.”
Cass gave him a shy smile and took another one of the sandwiches and pulled it apart. The waiting dogs thumped their tails eagerly, and she laughed with delight when they gently took the food from her fingers. “They’re such good dogs. I love them.”
“You sure you don’t have pets?”
“I’m sure.” The look on her face grew sad. She glanced over at him. “It’s been days, Eli. When do you think I’m going to get my memory back?”
“Dunno. You want to look it up on the Internet? There’s a computer in the b
ack. If we can get a satellite signal, you should be able to use the web. I’ll give you the password.”
For some reason, she seemed strangely reluctant at the thought, as if getting online bothered her.
“What is it?”
“I don’t know.” She rubbed her arms briskly, as if she was cold. “It kind of feels like if I use the computer, I’m . . . exposed? It’s hard to say. It’s just a weird feeling. I can’t explain it. I just don’t want to. Does that make sense?”
“To me it does. I’m not a big fan of it myself.” At her faint smile, he added, “I’ll call Doc Parsons in the morning and ask him, if you’re worried.”
“It’s all right. Let’s give it a few more days. Maybe I’m panicking.” She propped one elbow up on the table and studied him as he methodically ate another sandwich. “Since I’m a big blank, will you tell me about you?”
His mouth went dry. She wanted to know about him? “Ain’t much to tell.”
“Nothing at all?” Cass looked so very disappointed. “I don’t have anything I remember about me. I can’t believe we’re both big blanks.”
“I find it hard to believe you’ve got nothing under there,” he said, trying to ease her fears. “I bet there’s plenty. You just have to bring it to the surface.”
“Like what?”
Well, damn. Now he was on the spot. What did all those magazines that Maria was constantly flipping through say? “Uh, favorite color? Do you have one?”
She blinked for a moment, her lashes fluttering as she considered his question. “I . . . think I like red. You?”
“I like red,” he agreed, mostly because she liked it. “And you like dogs. That’s two things.”
“Wow, two whole things,” Cass teased, leaning back in her chair. “Why would a girl ever think to worry?”
“All right, then.” He gestured at the sandwiches. “Favorite food?”
All I Want for Christmas Is a Cowboy Page 9