The Maverick's Snowbound Christmas Page 4

  “Close to it,” he agreed, accepting the situation for what it was. After all, he did live in Montana.

  Hadley began pushing some of the snow away. She looked almost frantic.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I have to get out. It’s still snowing. There will be even more in a little while. I’ll never be able to get back tonight.”

  Earlier, she’d sounded reconciled to the fact that she’d be here awhile. But maybe she hadn’t considered an overnight stay. Was she panicked because of their attraction?

  “Would that be so awful?” he teased, hoping to ease her anxiety.

  Then he saw a multitude of emotions flash through her eyes. Panic. Maybe even a little fear. What was that about?

  “I can’t be cooped up with you,” she said, kicking at the snow again but only managing to have it stick to her jeans and her boots.

  He wasn’t sure what made him do it, but he took her by the shoulders and turned her toward him. “Hey! You’ve got to relax. I have power bars stowed away in the tack room, peanut butter, canned stew and bottled water. As you said earlier, we have more than some people.”

  Just then, the lights in the barn blinked out.

  “Oh, no,” she said. “The electricity.”

  To reassure her, he gave her shoulders a little squeeze. “The space heater is run by gas, and I have battery-powered lanterns. Not to mention a butane stove to warm the stew. We’re not going to freeze or go hungry. This could be one of those times when you have to roll with the punches.”

  “Oh, I’ve rolled with plenty of punches,” she insisted, looking almost angry about it. She jerkily pulled away from him.

  He couldn’t understand her withdrawal and couldn’t help but take it personally. Apparently being cooped up with a cowboy wasn’t her cup of coffee.

  “Look,” he said, “you don’t have anything to fear from me. I’ll be the perfect gentleman.” He raised his hands in a surrender gesture. “I won’t touch you. Promise.”

  Then he pushed the door to the outside world closed again before any more snow could fall in. When Hadley didn’t say a word, he left her standing there as he returned to Amber and her foal.

  * * *

  Hadley stood in a far corner of the barn, cell phone in hand, trying to get a connection. She was upset with herself and upset with the situation. Eli wanted her to roll with the punches. She’d certainly done that in the past. But for some reason, it was harder to do it now.

  She tried again to connect with Melba or her sister. But her texts wouldn’t go through. She was glad she’d texted after she’d arrived. At least her family knew she was safe here.

  Safe?

  Oh, she was sure Eli would be the perfect gentleman because he said he would. From everything she knew about him he was steady, reliable and kept his word. Not only that, but from their conversation, she’d gleaned the fact that he wasn’t narrow-minded like some cowboys. He seemed to have a wealth of knowledge about many subjects.

  The bottom line was that she was attracted to him and didn’t want to be. Worse, she was cooped up with him in an almost intimate situation. The birth of that foal had made this situation intimate. She’d felt it when the baby was born and she and Eli had gazed into each other’s eyes. They both valued that momma and colt the same way. That had made Eli even more attractive to her. And when the colt had stood on wobbly legs and gone to his momma, she was so touched she could have cried.

  Trying to get a grip on the situation, she told herself she could handle her attraction to Eli. All she had to do was ignore it. She knew how disastrous instant attraction could be. She’d lived with the regrets that had come from it. Attraction had caused the biggest mistake of her life.

  Still, she knew she’d offended Eli, and she needed to apologize. She just didn’t know the best way to do it.

  For a while, Eli had been closeted in the tack room, coming out now and then to check on Amber and her colt. Whenever he did, his face softened just looking at them. But as soon as he turned away, he was stoic again.

  She had to fix this. They would be stuck here together until tomorrow. She’d accepted the situation for what it was—she was snowed in with Eli. But this awkwardness between them was her fault, and she had to remedy it.

  Thinking about the best way to approach the sexy rancher, first she checked on the momma cat and kitten. The kitten was nursing, and its momma looked content. Hadley hoped they were both healthy. When she left, she’d take them to Brooks’s clinic.

  Noticing the tin of chocolate chip cookies, she remembered she and Eli had eaten only a few. They’d be delving into the rest for supper. She checked her watch, glowing in the darkness of the barn. It was almost suppertime. Eli had set one battery-powered lantern near Amber’s stall and another in the tack room. He had a third he could carry wherever he went.

  She glanced around the tack room. Eli had mentioned a butane-powered stove. Maybe they could warm water for hot tea. She always carried tea bags in her purse. It was a habit she’d started in college when she’d had a mug warmer in her room. She still carried that mug warmer in her SUV, but it wouldn’t do any good if she couldn’t plug it in. But a portable stove would be a means to mediation. She decided a peace offering might be the best way to start conversation again with Eli.

  Rooting in her purse, she found the small plastic bag she kept the tea bags in. Taking her courage in hand, she walked to Amber’s stall. Eli was sitting on a stool watching the mare. It was actually hard to see him because he wasn’t right by the lantern.

  He must have heard her footsteps because he turned toward her. “They seem to be doing well,” he said in an even tone.

  “Yes, they do,” she agreed, not knowing how to begin. It seemed she was as bad at apologies as being cooped up with Eli. She wiggled the plastic bag in her hand. “I have a few tea bags. I thought maybe we could warm water on the stove. Even weak tea would be something to warm us up.”

  He studied her in the shadows. She noticed his jaw lose some of its rigidity, and his stance relaxed some. “Hot tea sounds good. I’ll see if I can rustle up a pot to use.”

  She followed him to the tack room and watched as he took out the portable stove and fired it up. Then he opened the cupboard and dug around inside. He produced not only a small saucepan but canned beef stew. “When I spend time down here with an ailing horse, I make do with whatever supplies are around. How do you feel about beef stew from a can?”

  “If we can warm it up, it will be great. If we can’t, I’ll leave the beef stew to you and I’ll take the power bar.”

  Opening another upper cabinet, he took out the box of power bars. “We can sit in here for a spell. If you’re cold, you can wrap up in a saddle blanket.” He gestured to a man’s suede jacket hanging on a peg behind the door. “Or put that on, on top of your coat.”

  “I’m fine,” she assured him, imagining the feel of Eli’s coat around her, his scent enveloping her.

  He handed her the saucepan. “If you want to start the water, I’ll find a flashlight. We might need that, too. The lantern batteries could run out.”

  As Eli left the tack room, Hadley realized that he was a planner and apparently thought ahead, always prepared with plan B.

  She set the water to boil and glanced over at the momma cat and kitten. They stayed cuddled together in the bed Eli had made.

  When he returned to the tack room with two flashlights, Hadley said, “I’ll have to feed momma again when we’re done. She needs nourishment to be able to nurse her baby.”

  From somewhere Eli had found two more foam cups. Hadley dropped a tea bag into each. “I hope you like orange spice. That’s all I have.”

  “Orange spice is fine. My mother has a whole cupboard full of everything from chamomile to Earl Grey.”

  Again Eli had surprised her. Men
didn’t usually notice that kind of thing. “You’re a tea drinker?”

  “It’s not always my choice,” he admitted. “But whenever Mom wants to talk, she pours us both a cup of tea. In a sense, I’ve learned what I like and what I don’t.”

  From the cabinet he pulled out a jar of peanut butter. “We can always slather peanut butter on the cookies.”

  With a smile, she suggested, “I think beef stew and plain cookies will be fine.”

  Once the water for the tea was poured, Eli popped the top of the beef stew can and dumped it into the saucepan. He found a few utensils in a drawer and used a fork to stir the stew. The light from the lantern was bright in the dark room and played over Eli as he prepared their dinner.

  She handed him a cup of tea. “It should be brewed. You don’t want it to get cold.”

  “It will feel good going down.”

  Every time Eli spoke, his deep voice seemed to mesmerize her. She found herself staring at his face, the creases around his mouth, his firm jaw, his lips. She didn’t know why, but she got the feeling that he was a sensual man, not afraid of touching.

  She quickly shut down that thought and took a sip of her tea. It was hot and did feel good going down. Now was the time to apologize.

  However, just as she was about to open her mouth, and probably put her foot in it, he looked away, down at the stew. “I think it’s ready,” he said, and she wondered if he’d been studying her face as carefully as she’d been studying his.

  He’d found only one bowl in the cupboard. It had a black stripe around the outer rim and was chipped here and there. “We’ll have to eat out of the same bowl,” he told her gruffly. “Or you can have the bowl and I’ll eat out of the pot.”

  “Whatever suits you is fine with me.” After all, she could roll with the punches, couldn’t she?

  After a quick glance at her, he said, “You take the bowl.” He produced a glove from somewhere, and when he sat on the desk chair, he laid it on his thigh. Then he propped the pot on that.

  They ate for a few minutes in companionable silence, hearing only the sounds of the wind against the barn, the soft whinnies of horses stirring in their stalls, the creak of the timbers overhead as the roof absorbed the cold.

  Finally, she moved restlessly on the stool and worked up her nerve. “Eli, I’m sorry about earlier.”

  “Earlier?” he asked as if he didn’t know what she was talking about.

  “I never meant to give the impression that I thought—”

  He cut in. “That you thought I was just a cowboy. That I only knew how to rope a steer. That I didn’t pay attention in school because my life was only here on the ranch.”

  She wasn’t sure what to say to all that.

  As if he’d never intended to say what he had, he sighed and ran a hand through his thick hair. “I guess we all have preconceived notions.”

  She was cognizant of the fact that he didn’t mention what his might be about her.

  He did add, however, “Just so you know, I ran track. I could have had a scholarship to college.”

  “You didn’t want to go?” There was no judgment in her voice. She seriously wanted to know.

  “I had other things on my mind then. And, no, I didn’t see the need. One year passed into two and then three. My parents depended on me, and I’d made a life here.”

  He wasn’t saying what had happened in those years after high school, and she really had no right to pry. She certainly didn’t want him asking her personal questions.

  After Eli had finished his stew, he set the pan on the desk. Hadley passed him her bowl, and he set that on top of the pan. She couldn’t help but slip her phone from her pocket and check it.

  “There’s still no signal,” she said with disappointment.

  “Your family knows you’re here.” His tone was reassuring.

  She shook herself free of the notion that her family was worrying about her. “Old Gene and Melba know I can take care of myself. I don’t think they’ll worry. What about your parents?” she asked him.

  “They’ll have watched the weather reports for here from Missoula. They’ll know what’s happening. I’ve often handled the ranch on my own, and they know everything will be taken care of.”

  “Because you’re the dependable one?” Hadley asked.

  “Something like that,” he said with a nod. “I’m the oldest, so I’ve probably always had more responsibilities than the others.”

  She could easily see that.

  “Ready for that cookie now?” he asked with a smile that made him look rakish and charming, even handsome. At first she’d thought his face was too craggy to be handsome, but she’d been wrong. And now with a bit of beard stubble shadowing his jaw, he was downright sexy. Way too sexy.

  “A cookie sounds good,” she said, noticing the husky tone in her voice. Eli Dalton made her insides quiver.

  The cookie tin was sitting on the desk. Removing the lid, he smiled at her. “There’s only one. Do you want it?”

  “We can split it,” she suggested.

  He took it from the decorative tin, and she couldn’t help but notice his long fingers and large hands. Those hands had been so gentle on Amber.

  As if he’d caught her watching him, he said, “I washed up a bit ago. I let snow melt and added dish detergent.”

  “I wasn’t thinking that—” Her voice broke off because she didn’t want to tell him what she had been thinking. That the touch of his hand on her skin would be a pleasurable thing. She was hoping he couldn’t see her blush in the dusky barn.

  He didn’t question her further. Rather, he broke the cookie in half and gave her the larger piece. That said something about him, too. Not only that he was a gentleman, but that he might often be self-sacrificing. No. She was reading too much into a simple gesture. No man she had ever known had been self-sacrificing, and certainly not the one she’d gotten entangled with.

  “What’s wrong?” Eli asked.

  She took a bite of the cookie. “What makes you think something’s wrong?”

  “You were frowning. Not just a simple frown, but a deep one.”

  “Just thinking about something in the past I’d rather forget,” she said truthfully, then finished the cookie and the rest of her tea. Her thoughts pushed her away from Eli. “I’m going to check on Amber.”

  Once she was on her feet, she didn’t want to seem rude, so she asked, “Are you going to name the colt?”

  “I’m going to wait until tomorrow so I can see him better in the light. I like to let the babies name themselves.”

  She liked that idea. In fact, she liked a lot about Eli Dalton.

  * * *

  Eli watched Hadley walk away with the third lantern, wondering what had unsettled her again. He took the empty cookie tin and the dirty pan to the counter. There he poured in the soapy mixture he’d made from the melting snow. That would have to do until morning or whenever someone plowed them out. That’s what it was going to take. He could probably forge a path through to the house, though it would be foolish in a blizzard. If he’d been more prepared, he would have tied a length of rope from the door of the house to the barn as a guide rope. But there was really no reason why he and Hadley couldn’t stay in the barn comfortably until morning. Then they could decide if they wanted to venture to the house.

  He wondered if the snow was still coming down. He didn’t want to attempt to open the door and have it get jammed in the snow, letting cold air in. But there was another way he and Hadley could check on the outside world to see what was happening.

  When Eli returned to Amber’s stall, Hadley was standing there watching momma and baby.

  “This is a sight you can never get tired of,” she said.

  He felt that connection again with Hadley because she understood the bo
nds between mother and baby. “I know,” he agreed. Then he said, “And I know another sight that’s spectacular, too. Come with me to the hayloft.” He picked up the lantern Hadley had carried to the stall.

  She glanced over her shoulder at him. “Seriously?”

  “I don’t have a secret lair up there,” he promised her. “I just want to show you something.”

  “Famous last words,” she mumbled under her breath, and he had to grin. Just what kind of men had she been associating with?

  “We’ll have to feed the horses, and I want to make sure everything’s locked up for the night first,” he explained. “This will be the first step in doing that. Come on.”

  “Do I need to bring anything with me?” she asked, trailing after him.

  “Nope. Just your sense of wonder.”

  When he stopped, turned around and studied her, he could see she had no idea what he meant. But she followed him, and that meant she trusted him...a little.

  Making sure the loft ladder was steady, he asked, “Do you want me to go up first, or do you want to climb first?”

  “You go first,” she said. “You know where you’re going.”

  Easily he climbed the ladder to the hayloft, still holding the lantern. He was used to doing it. Once there, he waited for her.

  She climbed up more slowly, careful each booted foot was steady as she took the next rung. As she reached the top of the ladder, he held out his hand. She hesitated only a moment, took it and held on until her feet were firmly planted in the hayloft and the straw there. Holding her hand like that, he felt more than a little warmth zing up his arm. But when she was balanced, she quickly let go.

  She looked around, and he could tell she was trying to compute what he wanted to show her. Bales of hay and a few farm implements sparsely dotted the hayloft. He went to the doors. They were made like shutters, two halves coming together to form the door closing. Now he unlatched the left side and let it swing open. Then he did the same thing on the right. The snow had stopped for now, but the wind still blew. The sight beyond the barn was worth the frigid rush of air.