Surely he felt it, too.
His thumb brushed against her chin, almost as if he were caressing her. “If you don’t get your memory back, you can just stay up here forever with me.”
Cass’s breath caught in her throat. This wasn’t in her head. He was leaning close to her, so close that if she breathed too deep, her breasts would brush against his chest. Her gaze fluttered over his face, and she wanted to put a hand on his chest, to slide it up to his neck and pull him down against her in a kiss. What would this handsome, stern cowboy kiss like? Would he kiss her gently? Or would it be full of all the passion he had bottled up inside? God, she really wanted to find out. She bit her lip with the need of it.
His gaze moved to her mouth, and she knew he was watching her with just as much intensity. A moan rose in her throat. She’d never been so full of need for someone she’d never even kissed before. Everything about Eli just called to her, though. His strength, his clean, warm scent, his smile . . . his loneliness. She suspected that even when the ranch was full of other people, he stood apart. She knew how that felt, deep down in her gut. She understood it.
And she wanted to kiss him so hard that he’d realize that he was never alone again. “Eli,” she whispered, leaning in and tilting her face up.
“Cass,” he murmured, and a shiver went through her at the sound of her name on his lips. It sounded so good, so right. So—
A crash from the kitchen made them both jump. Eli turned away, groaning. “That’ll be the dogs.”
“Of course,” she said, flustered, and clutched her wounded hand to her chest as she followed him out of the bathroom and back to the kitchen. She lagged behind him a few steps. Not because she was tired, but because she wanted the mental privacy of having a few moments to herself. She didn’t know what to think.
They’d almost kissed, and Eli had practically jumped to get away from her once the moment was broken. Maybe all the attraction was on her side and he was humoring her. Just being a lonely guy presented with a woman who was throwing herself at him.
Ugh. How could one almost-kiss feel like it had gone so wrong so quickly?
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Eli wrestled the bacon package away from the dogs. Frannie had already eaten several raw strips, and Bandit had carried another chunk into the living room, no doubt to hide it away. “Good boy, Jim,” he told the only non-thief, and was rewarded with a lazy tail wag. Jim was apparently the only ranch dog not ruined by Cass’s kind heart. He should have told her that feeding them treats led to thieving and the like, but he didn’t have the heart to destroy the pleasure that shone in her eyes when she fed them. It was clear she loved animals, even if she swore she didn’t have any.
He mopped up the blood, too, and then straightened things up while she lingered behind him, a distressed look on her face. She was silent, which wasn’t like her, and he cursed himself for jumping up like his pants were on fire. Sure, the timing was wrong, but he hated that he’d made her feel uncomfortable. That just made things worse.
“Thanks for cleaning up,” she said softly from behind him.
“Of course.” Like he was gonna make a woman with a hurt hand clean up her own blood, and then demand she make him dinner. He glanced over at Frannie, who was making coughing noises like she was about to vomit. Figured. “I’ll take the dogs outside in case they yack up the bacon.”
“Oh no. I’m sorry.”
“Ain’t your fault,” he told her, even though it kind of was. He knew she hadn’t meant to, and intention was everything. That was why he was so very mad at himself. If intention was everything, the fact that he’d wanted to kiss her was a problem. Didn’t matter that he didn’t do it. What mattered was that he’d wanted to.
“Okay.” She clutched her injured hand and stood awkwardly in the kitchen. “Hey, um, Eli?”
“Yeah?” He stiffened, waiting, almost dreading what she was about to say.
“When do you think you’ll be able to get my phone and purse from my car?”
That hadn’t been the question he was expecting. “You want that stuff right now?”
She blushed. “Not right now. I mean, it’s late. Of course not right now.” She fidgeted with the bandages on her hand. “I was just thinking that it has some of my personal info on there. My address. My last name. Maybe if I get that stuff, it’ll help jog my memory. Once I’m recovered, I’ll be out of your hair and on my way. Win-win situation for the both of us.”
Is that what she thought a win-win was? It was more like a lose-win situation for him, because he already hated the thought of her leaving. He didn’t want her to go, and the realization staggered him. He’d never cared if anyone left in the past. But the thought of never seeing Cass again? It hit him in the gut and made him feel physically ill. Of course, he couldn’t tell her that. Not when it was clear she wanted to go. Why else would she ask? He straightened, getting up from the floor and tossing the dirty towel in the sink. “It’s the same as driving on the roads right now, Cass. Isn’t gonna happen until the weather clears up.”
“Ah.” He didn’t know if she was upset. That one syllable made it hard to tell.
“Need a few days of sunshine. Then we’ll see.”
“All right,” she said softly, and they stood there staring at each other.
He desperately wanted to say something. Anything. He didn’t want her to hate him because he was attracted to her. He didn’t want her to be scared. He needed to think of something to reassure her, but nothing came to mind and so he just gazed at her, because looking at her was becoming as important as breathing.
Frannie ruined the moment by puking up the stolen bacon on the rug.
* * *
• • •
Cass slept badly that night.
Her hand throbbed, which didn’t help things. And she didn’t want to ask for aspirin, in case Eli thought she was being ultra wimpy and needy. So she tossed and turned, trying to not brush against her hand or dream about Eli. Didn’t work. She couldn’t help but think about Eli the entire time she lay in bed. How soft his gorgeous, piercing eyes had gotten when he gazed down at her. How good he’d smelled—like leather and fresh herbs and sweat—when he’d leaned in. How much she’d wanted him to touch her.
And how relief had flashed across his face when they pulled apart. That was the moment her brain kept reliving over and over again. He didn’t want to kiss her. Didn’t want to be attracted to her. That hurt. A lot. It made her dreams restless, and when she woke up in a cranky mood the next morning, finding Eli gone without so much as a note made things worse.
To top it all off, it was snowing again. Big, fat flakes drifted down from the gray sky, piling more snow onto an already white landscape. Cass scowled at the dawn as she went to feed the chickens. Even they were jerks to her—one pecked her hand when she was trying to spread the feed evenly in the trough, and another squawked and flapped its wings as if Cass were trying to kill her instead of feed her. She definitely was not feeling popular today. Frannie had abandoned her to remain sleeping under the Christmas tree, curled up in the skirt.
All and all, it was not starting out as a great day. Cass soldiered on, although all she wanted to do was sit down and cry. She finished her chores, ate a cold breakfast of bread and jam, and then found her crochet hook and fumbled her way through a series of stitches that wouldn’t make her bad hand ache. She didn’t cook anything, because she figured it would just end badly. So she crocheted and stewed over last night’s aborted kiss. She glared out the window at the snow, she glared at the Christmas decorations he hadn’t even commented on, and when she saw Eli distantly out in the pasture with the herd, she glared at his back, too.
The day passed achingly slow. She finished his hat and stared at the completed project for a while, not sure if she should unravel it in a fit of irritation or put it under the tree. She wrapped it anyhow, just because she couldn’t stay mad. Even if he di
dn’t want to kiss her, it didn’t change the fact that he’d saved her life. That was worth a hat at the very least, so she put it under the tree and fussed with the bow until it looked perfect. She thought about crocheting him something else, but her hand was starting to ache, so she just rubbed the bandages and gazed out the window as it grew steadily darker throughout the afternoon.
Eli didn’t come inside for lunch. When dinner passed, she peered out the window to see if she could locate him in the pastures, but all she saw were the cattle’s dark shapes. She made peanut butter and jelly sandwiches—because she couldn’t hurt herself on those—and sat at the dining room table, waiting. Being alone all day sucked. It made her realize how uncomfortable the rest of her stay would be if he avoided her, and the thought made her ache. She didn’t want that to happen. She’d apologize to Eli and get all of this out in the open, then. She’d lie that the knock on her head had really messed with her thoughts and she didn’t truly like him or want to kiss him. It was just the concussion. Nothing more. Then he’d give her one of those gorgeous, relieved smiles that told her he wasn’t really interested in her, just responding to the situation, and she’d tuck her easily broken heart away and try to forget about the cowboy she lusted over on a wintry Christmas holiday.
Christmas Eve was the day after tomorrow, after all. Surely the weather would break after that and start to clear up. That was how Murphy’s Law worked, wasn’t it? If you had somewhere to be, everything cleared up after the fact. Of course, she wasn’t exactly sure where she needed to be. Cass sighed and stared out the dark window, then curled up on the couch to wait.
She drifted off and when she woke up, she realized it was fully dark outside. The wood-burning stove was mere coals, and the Christmas CD she’d put in had ended some time ago. She rubbed her eyes and glanced around the too-quiet ranch house. “Eli?”
No answer.
She got up and padded around the house, checking all the unlocked rooms. No Eli. The kitchen was undisturbed, the sandwiches still neatly arranged where she’d left them hours ago.
He should have been back by now.
A sudden, panicky thought occurred to her. What if he was hurt? What if something had happened to him and he needed a rescue, just like the one he’d done for her? She raced toward the mudroom and started grabbing her layers.
“Frannie?” The dog was nowhere to be found, and Cass had to backtrack to find her hidden behind the Christmas tree, tail thumping as she curled up on the tree skirt. Her heart softened at the sight of the fluffy dog so comfortable in such a sentimental spot, right next to the lone present under the tree. “All right, you stay there, girl. I’ll go find your dad.”
With that, she bundled up and headed out into the night, determined to find him.
Of course, without the sun, it was bitterly cold and her lungs ached with every breath. Even through all her layers, she didn’t feel warm. Shivering, she trudged out into the snow, heading toward the pasture.
As she got closer to the cattle, she noticed they were packed tightly together, their backs facing her as if huddling against the wind. She didn’t blame them—it was fiendishly cold. “Eli?” she called out, scanning for him. She didn’t see him anywhere, though, and she was a little afraid to go in with the cattle, because they were big and intimidating to someone who had never really been on a farm or a ranch before now. “Bandit? Jim?”
The wind carried her voice away, and she wandered around the edge of the fence in the dark, nearly twisting an ankle with every step. There was never an answer, no matter how many times she called, and Cass was outside for what felt like a half hour before she gave up and headed toward the barn. She wished she’d brought a flashlight, but the snow in the dim moonlight lit up enough for her to see by. Her teeth chattered as she headed toward the house, and a weird sob felt like it was close to breaking from her throat. What if she was right and Eli was gone after all?
She had to find him. If he was right and she was the only one on this side of the mountain, it was her turn to do the lifesaving. She was utterly terrified at the thought, but she couldn’t leave him. No one could save Eli but her.
Choking back the sob in her throat, she went to the barn. She could saddle a horse, theoretically, and look for hoofprints in the snow . . . provided they weren’t buried. Or she could take out one of the tractors. Something. All she knew was that she had to find him, and it’d go much faster if she wasn’t on foot.
She’d figure out the logistics of things as she went. Did she know how to ride a horse? No. Did she know how to work a tractor? Nope. But that wasn’t going to stop her. Eli needed her, and so she’d be there for him.
Cass pushed open the barn door and immediately felt warmer. There was a distinct musty, horsey smell in here, but it was comforting compared to the frosty feeling of the outside. On a brick-like stack of hay in the corner, she saw Bandit and Jim curled up, sleeping. Well, that was two less she had to rescue, though she wasn’t thrilled at the sight of them. “Traitors,” she whispered.
They only wagged their tails at her, and she imagined they looked guilty.
She walked past them, gazing helplessly at the stalls of the horses. There were ten of the boxy stalls, but only four horses. Eli had told her that sometimes the cattle were separated and put into the stalls, or if they had to bottle-feed babies, they were kept in the barn because they’d been abandoned by their mothers. Right now, though, she only counted the four horses. She moved toward the closest one and put her gloved hand between the bars and into the stall. “Are you the most friendly one here? I need an easy horse to ride that doesn’t mind a rather unskilled pilot.”
The thing sniffed her hand, and then tried to bite her glove.
She yelped and pulled back. “Not you, too. Why is everyone on this farm such a jerk?” She had a petty moment and flipped the damn horse the bird, and then went to the next one. It ignored her, hindquarters in her direction. All right, well, she’d take a calm horse over Bitey Biterson in the next stall over. “Come on, boy,” she cooed at him, unlocking the latch on the stall and rolling the door back. “You and me are gonna—”
“What the hell are you doing?” Eli stormed around the corner, a dirty rag in his hand. He looked utterly furious at her, and put a hand out. “Stop right now! I mean it, damn it!”
She stared at him. He was here, alive and well and not frostbitten. He was also yelling at her like she was the one who had done something wrong. Cass stared at him in shock as he moved in front of her, shut the stall door again, and then turned around to give her the angriest glare she’d ever seen on his face.
And then she burst into tears.
“Ah, hell,” Eli said, tossing down the dirty rag in disgust. He dug through his pockets for a handkerchief, and when he pulled it out, it was oily from the stuff on his hands, and he swore again. “Don’t cry. Damn it, Cass.”
“Quit yelling at me,” she sobbed back at him. And because she was so mad, she punched him in his shoulder. It felt ineffective and weak, so she did it again, just because.
He gave her a shocked look. “Of course I’m going to yell at you,” he said, raising his voice until she was pretty sure he was yelling all over again. “You were about to walk into a stall with a horse facing the wrong direction! Do you want a hoof to the head? Do you want him to break your ribs? Because if you get in there with him, that’s what’s going to happen.”
He was definitely yelling . . . and it only made her cry harder. “I was coming to save you, you . . . prick!” She smacked his shoulder again. “I thought you were dead!”
“Why would I be dead?” he roared. “I’m not the one constantly in danger just by walking into the kitchen!”
Cass sucked in a breath and gave herself the hiccups in her effort to stop crying. “I was scared you were dead,” she repeated again, scowling at him. “Don’t be mad at me!”
“Why did you think I was dea
d?”
“Because you didn’t come inside! It’s late!”
“Yeah, it’s late! Did you notice that I’m the only one around here?” He spread his arms wide. “I’m doin’ the work of four people, Cass. At what point do you think I have time to sit around the fire with you?”
“You’re being a jerk,” she cried. She hated that every word out of his mouth sounded so logical. She hated that she was the hysterical one in this. “I was worried!”
“So worried you decided to kill yourself by pissin’ off all the horses? Jesus, Cass! Are you trying to get hurt again? Is that what this is?”
Like she was deliberately going to hurt herself? “Excuse me for caring about you,” she shouted at him and clenched her fists. Of course, that hurt because her one hand was still throbbing from yesterday’s cut, and she gasped at the pain that shot up her arm. It just made her angrier. How dare he be mad at her? As if it was a bad thing to care about someone! “You know what? Fine! I don’t want to spend Christmas with you! I don’t even like you anymore! Go and die out in the snow. See if I care! Sleep out here for the next week! It doesn’t matter to me!” She turned her back on him and went to storm away.
A hand grabbed her shoulder.
Cass turned around, her temper flaring. She was determined to give him a piece of her mind. In the next moment, he cupped her face and his mouth was on hers.
Shocked, Cass remained perfectly still for a moment, unable to believe it was really happening. After all this time, Eli was kissing her. His mouth slanted over hers, hard and angry with emotion, but it was still breathtaking to feel his body against hers, the warmth of his mouth on her. The brim of his hat was shadowing both of them, and she could feel it tip back when it hit her hair. Of course, then she was distracted by his lips again. His mouth was both hard and soft against her own, and she melted into the dual sensation of it. He pulled away a scant second later, before she was even getting into the kiss. “Cass—”
All I Want for Christmas Is a Cowboy Page 12