“What a wonderful early Christmas present,” she said in a soft voice. “It’s been a magical night.”
“Indeed.” It had been pretty damn magical for him, too.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Eli gave Cass the shirt off his back and she curled up in it, unwilling to leave her post near the tree in case Frannie needed her. She put out some leftovers and set them on a plate, along with a fresh bowl of water, and sat and waited. Eli joined her, shirtless and in nothing but his jeans and socks, and it was a curiously intimate moment. She found herself reaching for his hand as they sat next to each other, and was pleased when he linked his fingers with hers. He didn’t seem like the type to hold hands, but she liked that he would anyhow.
“I think I count five balls of fluff,” she told him, barely able to see movement through the branches of the tree. “Two of them look white like her, but the others have the same coloring as Bandit, the scamp.”
His laughter made her feel warm. The squeeze he gave her hand? Even warmer. “Don’t be too hard on Bandit. Ever since I got Frannie, it was the plan all this time for her to have one litter before I got her fixed.”
“It was?” She looked over at him, surprised. She also really, really liked his laugh and tucked their joined hands against her leg, because she loved his touch just as much as that delighted laugh. “You’ve been planning this all along? Is it doggy true love, then?”
“Dunno about that.” Eli gave her an amused grin. “But when I bought Frannie, she was the last pup the breeder had, and the last one she’d have for a while.”
“This is the part where I should tell you to adopt instead of buy, right?”
He shrugged. “I bought her because I needed to make sure she was a ranch dog. I’d have loved a mutt just as much, but not every mutt has the herding instinct. With Frannie’s breed, I knew she’d be a good cattle dog. Those are just as important on the ranch as any of the horses.”
“Oh. I didn’t know.”
“I know you didn’t.” His thumb rubbed against the seam of her jeans on the inside of her thigh. “And Old Clyde had a pair of Great Pyrenees for the longest time. Big fluffy white monsters. Could herd cattle like nobody’s business. Frannie looked downright petite next to them. They died about a year ago within a few days of each other, and Old Clyde was just devastated. Had those dogs for over a decade, and I think he loved them more than most people. They were getting on in years, of course, so he knew it was coming, but to lose both at once was a real blow. I’d just gotten Frannie and she was nothing but this adorable white bit of fluff, and Old Clyde just looked so sad every time he saw her. So I suggested we let her have a litter, and then I’d get her fixed. One of those little guys is gonna be for him. Maybe two if he wants.”
Her heart stuttered. If that wasn’t one of the sweetest, most thoughtful things she’d ever heard. “You’re a good man, Eli. That’s lovely of you.”
“I wasn’t the one carrying it, so I don’t know that I can take the credit.” He winked at her. “But it made Old Clyde real happy, and he’s been waiting a long time to see these little ones born. He’ll be thrilled when he gets back.”
“I can imagine. Who wouldn’t want a puppy?” Even now, just seeing those little balls of fluff moving around behind the tree made her heart squeeze. Every time Frannie licked one, Cass’s heart squeezed again.
Of course, every time Eli looked over at her, her heart squeezed, too. Lots of squeezing going on.
“What about the rest of them?”
He considered for a moment, and then pulled her against him, until she was tucked under his arm. “We’ll figure it out.”
He’d get them good homes, she knew. He wasn’t the type to abandon someone in his charge. Her hands went to his waist and she laid her head on his shoulder. She was still half naked, because she hadn’t buttoned his shirt, and her jeans were still undone, but it didn’t matter. She felt pretty. Cared for. Loved.
Happy.
Gosh, when had she been so happy? She racked her brain, desperately wishing that memories would pop up, but nothing came forward. No last name. No job. No idea why she’d been heading into the mountains. At some point, those memories would return—she refused to think otherwise—and she’d have to deal with real life. The idea made her stomach knot, as if real life were something she desperately wanted to avoid, and she didn’t know why. She wouldn’t think about that tonight, though.
Tonight, it was Christmas Eve, and she was going to spend it in the arms of the cowboy she was falling for.
* * *
• • •
They watched Frannie and her puppies for hours. Once Frannie emerged to eat, Eli carefully moved the tree away from the wall and Cass squeezed in to rescue the newborns from the corner. She wanted to wash the tree skirts and get the dog fresh blankets, and she was a little worried that all those pine needles that dropped from the tree might land on the puppies. Eli prepped a large box and she padded it with blankets, and then one by one the delicate little bundles were moved to their new bed. Frannie hovered while Cass gently moved them, and once they were in the new box, she climbed in and began licking them again.
The three pups that looked like Bandit had the splotchy gray and gold and white coloring that Eli said was typical of the breed—Australian shepherd. They had Frannie’s thick coat, and Cass bet they would be gorgeous when they got older. The two smaller puppies were pure white miniatures of their mother, and she suspected those were the ones that Old Clyde would want. Since it was Christmas Eve, she named the three big ones Gold, Frankincense, and Myrrh—or rather, Goldie, Frankie, and Myrtle. The two tiny ones would be Joy and Noel.
Eli just rolled his eyes at her names, but she didn’t think he minded. She threatened to name them after reindeer, and that got a belly laugh out of him.
It was a lovely evening, Cass thought. When the dogs were settled, she and Eli curled up on the couch together and talked of anything and everything. The weather, politics, television shows, books they’d read. Cass found that she had more memories than she thought, because she was pleased to find out that she’d read the Harry Potter books just last year, and Eli never had. She made a private vow to get him copies, because she thought he’d like them. The last book he said he’d read was Lonesome Dove, and so she called him a cliché. That had brought a fiendish gleam to his eyes and they’d ended up in a tickle fight on the couch.
The tickle fight had ended up in more kissing.
So much kissing.
And god, she loved kissing him. The way his mouth fit against hers was perfection, and she loved the way he tasted. It felt weird to think of people having a “taste” but there was something about him that just made her crazy with lust, and she couldn’t get enough of his touches, his kisses, his everything. They’d made out on the couch for hours, mostly just slow, lazy kisses, exploring each other from the waist up. He’d played with her breasts until she was whimpering, and she’d ran her hands all over that delicious, tanned body of his. She’d tried to push him for more, to have sex, but he’d simply put his hand in her panties again and made her come twice in short succession, and well, she couldn’t really complain after that. She was too dazed.
The last thing she remembered was his arms around her and his mouth pressed to her forehead as she went to sleep.
Cass woke up to a puppy’s mewling yip sometime close to dawn, and scrubbed a hand over her eyes. She squinted at the watery gray sunlight leaking through the windows and tried to figure out where she was. Not Eli’s bed, but the couch. They’d slept on the narrow length, tangled together all night. It was wonderful. She wondered if they’d be sleeping together every night from now on. Even if there wasn’t sex, she just liked cuddling up next to him.
And, okay, the cuddling would hopefully lead to sex. Fingers crossed. She was pretty sure he wanted her—hours of kissing couldn’t lie—but she was also pretty sure he
moved a lot slower than she did. And that was all right, as long as they met somewhere in the middle.
She wasn’t even upset that he’d gone out on Christmas morning and hadn’t woken her up. If there was one thing she’d learned over the last week, it was that the ranch didn’t wait for anyone to sleep in, and it certainly didn’t wait for holidays. She could appreciate that, though, and she appreciated how hard Eli worked. There wasn’t a lazy bone in his body. He was far too responsible. And, goodness, when had responsibility become so damn sexy? But it was, and it made her want to do something other than sit around all day.
Well, at least she had chickens to look after. And now puppies. Between that and keeping the house tidy, it was something. Cass went through her chores, hoping for a glimpse of Eli out in the pastures. He’d left her a note in the kitchen, telling her that he’d wrap things up early and to wait for him to eat. He’d signed it with a big “E,” and she’d dreamily traced that “E” over and over again as she ate breakfast.
The day was bright and sunny, making the snow so shiny it almost hurt her eyes. She wondered if it was going to melt soon.
She wasn’t sure if she wanted it to ever melt.
After the chickens were fed and the laundry was started, she checked on Frannie. The dog was happily nursing her pups, her tail thumping at the sight of Cass. She scratched the fluffy head and let her be, wandering into the bathroom. After staring at her reflection in the mirror for a bit, Cass decided that the big gash on her forehead had healed up pretty nicely. It’d leave a scar, but hopefully not a dreadful one. Someone would hate it . . .
Someone.
Someone.
She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to concentrate. A face floated at the back of her mind, but disappeared as quickly as it had flickered through. That was progress, though. She’d take it. It was a flash of memory, returning in less than a week.
Who knew where she’d be in another week?
For some reason, the thought wasn’t comforting. There was something she was hiding from, Cass sensed. Something that she was running away from. Some sort of confrontation she was avoiding. That had to be why she dreaded the thought of getting on the Internet and looking herself up.
Maybe in another week she’d be ready to confront it.
Maybe.
* * *
• • •
Cass was flipping through a cookbook in the living room when the mudroom door opened. She glanced at the clock and was delighted to see that it was indeed early. Just a little after lunch. She threw the book aside and raced into the kitchen to greet him. “You’re back early, all right. What—”
She’d expected to see him in the mudroom, pulling off his boots or peeling off layers. Instead, she was greeted with a fierce kiss, his cowboy hat smacking her forehead and tipping backward as he pulled her against him. Cass was thoroughly kissed until she was dazed and panting, and then he released her with one more small peck on the lips. “Merry Christmas,” Eli murmured.
“Hi,” she breathed, clinging to his coat for support. “Did you miss me?”
“Hell yeah.”
“I missed you, too,” she told him, and felt herself blushing.
“Luckily we have the rest of the day together,” he said, giving her another smacking kiss and then releasing her. “Let me undress and I’ll join you.”
“I’d love to help you undress,” she told him breathlessly, and was rewarded with a heated glance over his shoulder. She fanned herself with a hand as he headed back toward the mudroom, because that wasn’t the greeting a guy gave his girl when he wanted to go slow.
She was totally getting laid tonight.
Her pulse thrummed with anticipation as she watched him take off his outer layers. She picked up his hat from the kitchen floor, and it reminded her of her Christmas present for him. Excited, she rushed into the living room and snagged it from under the tree, then returned to the kitchen to wait for him. She set it down on the table in front of her, proud of the wrapping job she’d done on it. It had taken two tries (and several paper cuts) before she was able to make a pretty box, but the end result was rather professional, if she said so herself.
When Eli stepped into the kitchen in nothing but a sweaty white T-shirt and jeans, scratching at his chest, she sucked in a breath. It was unfair that a man should be that handsome when he was dirty. There was a smear of dirt on his forehead and his hair was slick with sweat, but he still looked good enough to eat. “I should shower before . . .” He paused, noticing the present on the table in front of her. “What’s that?”
Cass held it up triumphantly, excited. “Merry Christmas!”
He blinked at her, unmoving. “That’s . . . for me?”
“Who else would it be for?” She chuckled and pushed it toward him. “Open it!”
Eli took one step forward, hesitated, then took the box from her. The smallest smile curved his mouth, as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing, and it broke her heart. Somehow, she thought he hadn’t gotten many presents in his life. His incredulous reaction followed by shy pleasure was that of someone who expected nothing, and who always expected nothing. Her poor, sweet cowboy. Now she wished she’d somehow figured out something else to make him instead of just a stupid hat.
But what was done was done. He took the box from her and she clasped her hands in front of her chest, brimming with excitement. “I hope you like it.”
His gaze flicked to her and his smile widened. “How can I not?”
“You don’t even know what it is yet. Let’s hold off judgment until you see it.”
With careful hands, Eli pulled the ribbon off of the top and peeled the wrapping paper back as if he wanted to keep it all without a single crease. He lifted the lid off the box and then pulled out the red hat she’d made him, with the silly white edging and the earflaps. Mentally, she cringed. This wasn’t what you gave a big, sexy man. “It’s not much,” she began.
He set the box down and held the hat in his hands, rubbing the yarn and just staring at it for so long she began to feel anxious. “You . . . made this?” Eli looked up at her.
“I did.” She squeezed her hands together tightly so she wouldn’t wring them in nervousness. “I know how to crochet, apparently, and I saw the yarn there and I wanted to make you something as a thank-you for saving me. I felt like you should have something to open on Christmas day, even if you’re not a big fan of the holiday. It didn’t seem right otherwise.” Cass bit her lip. “It’s just a hat, but it was all I could do. And I’ll pay Maria back for the yarn—”
“You knitted this for me?” There was a husky note in his voice.
“Well, it’s crochet, but yes. I know it’s kind of bright but I figured you could wear it under your cowboy hat, maybe, and . . .” Her voice died as his jaw clenched. “It’s not much.”
When he looked up at her, his eyes were curiously shiny. “You didn’t have to do this.”
“I wanted to do this, Eli.”
He crushed it to his chest. “Best damn present I’ve ever gotten,” he told her in a gruff voice.
She laughed, because it was either that or start sobbing, and she suspected he wouldn’t be a fan of the sobbing. “Oh, come on. You had to have gotten better than that in the past. Your parents—”
“Didn’t have any.”
“—Must have . . . wait, what?” She stared at him in surprise.
He shrugged. “I mean, I did. I don’t remember them, though. They sent me to a state home at age seven and then from there, I was bounced around between foster homes. Some were good foster homes, of course, but I never stayed in those for long.” His smile was thin, brittle with old pain. “Not a lot of people want a troublemaking older boy with abandonment issues. They want a cuddly baby. I eventually landed with a very strict family who didn’t believe in personal wealth and who thought Christmas was just an excuse for com
mercial greed and excess. I told you I joined the army right out of high school—it was because I couldn’t wait to get away from them.” He stared down at the hat in his hands. “No one’s ever taken the time to make me something because they cared. So . . . thank you.”
“Oh, Eli—”
“Don’t,” he told her with a small shake of his head. “Hard enough to talk about. Let’s not make it weird.” He gave her a small, crooked grin and her heart melted all over again.
“All right,” she said softly. “I’m just glad you like it.”
Eli turned it over in his hands, thoughtful. He glanced up at her and his face was more composed, the raw openness of a few moments ago gone. “I didn’t get you anything.”
She waved a hand in the air. “It’s not about getting. It’s about giving.”
“Well, maybe I want to give. What do you want?”
“You,” Cass said softly.
He gazed at her with a thoughtful expression on his face. Slowly, he reached up and put the red floppy hat on his head, the flaps curling up against his ears. It looked a little ridiculous, and she was about to tell him so when he leaned in and kissed her again. He smelled like sweat and horse and cattle, but she didn’t care. This was Eli, her big, sweet cowboy with a crusty exterior and a wounded heart, and she was utterly crazy about him. So she flung her arms around his neck and kissed him back with all of the emotion she had bubbling up inside her.
“You want me,” he murmured as he pulled back. “You’ve got me, Cass.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
He showered first. Of course he did. Eli was nothing if not clean, and Cass fluttered around the kitchen and the bedroom, straightening things and staying busy while he cleaned up. She gave Frannie and the other dogs more food, just in case she was occupied for the rest of the day, and gosh, wasn’t that wishful thinking? She fed the chickens one last time, and then she went into the other bathroom to fluff her hair and make sure that her freshly shaved legs were smooth. She’d shaved earlier that day in hopeful anticipation, and she was glad she was an optimist about these sorts of things.
All I Want for Christmas Is a Cowboy Page 16