She eyed the huge root ball that had unearthed itself when the tree had toppled. Snow hadn’t brought the tree down. Sure branches might break under the weight…but this…there hadn’t been much wind during the snowstorm, so this had to have happened the night before. Sure enough, another good glimpse inside her damaged trailer showed her the scattering of mostly melted snow that covered the floor, the obliterated nightstand, and the remains of her bed. Drying that out would be another nightmare. She turned back to the tree, glaring at the shallow, compact root ball as she paced to the hole in the ground once occupied by her new roommate evergreen. She squatted at the hole, brushing away some of the snow. The soil was wet. There must be bad drainage in this area, and looking closer, she thought there might’ve been a hollow down there too, further weakening the root system.
On the bright side, at least she hadn’t been sleeping in that bed when the tree had come down. Yet, on the other hand, here was
another
unexpected problem. A problem to add to the list already giving her a headache, starting with the time the backhoe had broken down. Or when the company she’d hired to help clear pasture for grazing had stood her up, then kept her deposit. She still had to take them to small claims court to get her money back, but what a pain, and worse, yet another delay when she was eager to being breaking ground on her new house.
She shook her head. Time to stop whining. She’d wanted this after all, and a ranch came with heartaches and headaches as well as the good times. Her thoughts shunted back to Harlan and how hard he’d worked, saving for his own land, and it still remained a dream for him. She’d do well to keep her mouth shut about any complaints and handle this quickly. No sense in salting wounds. Things were difficult enough as it was, with her leaving and him hung up on his “only a ranch hand” kick. She planned to disabuse him of that silly notion as soon as she could, but whining about her troubles wasn’t the way to go about it.
Besides, Harlan had taken it wrong when she’d told him she wanted to take care of this problem on her own. She’d noted the surprise and hurt in his eyes, but that was a cut she meant to make fast and let heal clean. She couldn’t always be looking to him to rescue her. There were things she had to prove—to herself more than anyone. This ranch wouldn’t run itself. There would be animals and eventually people counting on her. What was a little tree damage in the face of all that responsibility?
She blew out a long breath, a white cloud of it gathering around her face. Then she set about taking pictures with her cell phone camera, though it would do little good, as the trailer hadn’t been insured. She’d only meant to live in it for eight months or so while major construction was underway before selling it off again. And money had been tight after paying for all the contractors and fees and permits…
Her cell phone rang, startling her with how loud it sounded in the Colorado quiet, causing her to fumble it. She caught it at the last second before it fell in the mud and glanced at the number. The ranch. Must be her aunt. She answered it, but it was Harlan’s voice that came over the speaker.
“How bad?”
A twitch of annoyance made her mouth tighten. “Oh, it’s bad. A tree face-planted on my bedroom.”
“Didn’t realize trees had faces to plant.”
She snorted, despite herself. “All right, wise ass. You get a free pass for that one.”
“Mind if I come down and look it over?”
She hesitated. “I said I wanted to handle this myself.”
“Fair enough. Maybe I’ll bring some lunch.”
“You’re going to make lunch?”
“How about beef jerky on bread?”
“God. That’s not right, Harlan.”
“I’ll use mayo.”
This time she laughed. “All right. Come on down. But your food better be good or I’m complaining to the management.” She disconnected, wondering if she’d made the wrong choice by letting him come down here. First thing men loved to do was fix things…well, right after they took over the project and starting giving orders.
No, Harlan wasn’t like that. She had to give him the benefit of the doubt.
A few minutes later a truck engine rumbled and tires crunched on rock and gravel or squelched through mud and snowmelt. She glanced down the road. Snowbrook’s beat-up GMC truck came jouncing down the dirt road toward her. Harlan parked and climbed out carrying two brown lunch sacks. When he spotted her, he smiled that slow, easy smile. Despite her dismay about the fallen tree, she found herself smiling back.
Harlan handed her a sack and nodded at the fallen tree. “Mind if I have a looksee?”
She hesitated, then shrugged. “Go ahead.”
He approached the damage slowly, squinting at it with his head cocked to the side as he looked it over. She watched him, not sure what she was feeling. Anger, but not at him. Frustration. And…resentment. On edge, no doubt about it. She didn’t want pity for this, or commiseration, or anything. She could handle this.
“You take pictures for the insurance?” he asked.
“I took pictures.” She lifted her cell phone and waggled it in the air. What she didn’t tell him was that the trailer was not insured. Or how it had seemed a foolish cost when she’d got the darn thing for a song. Or how the trailer was old and tired, and only needed to survive long enough for the house to be built—half a year at most. And now…this.
“What do you say I grab some chainsaws and we cut it up. Best revenge on a tree that falls on your bed is to turn it into firewood.”
“This isn’t funny, Harlan.”
“I’m not laughing.”
She eyed him, looking for the lie, searching for any hint that he was—maybe even deep down in a place he was ashamed of—happy this had happened to her. He hadn’t wanted her to leave Snowbrook, and look here, an act of nature had nearly derailed her.
“I’m not giving up on this,” she said, nearly spitting the words. “This doesn’t change anything.”
He scratched his chin. “Well, it changes where you’re going to hang your hat for a while. Until we can get some framing up, repair that roof. Other than that, I completely agree. Things can always be fixed.”
She bit at her lip, not wanting to let the relief show on her face…or the shame. So quick to judge him, to believe the worst of him. As if he’d take joy in her misfortune just so she had to stay at Snowbrook for a little longer. What kind of person believed that kind of thing? It was unworthy of her.
“Of course, the tree fell right where my room is,” she said quickly, trying to cover.
“Thank God you weren’t inside.”
A wry smile crossed her face. “Since the storm happened during the day, guess I’d deserve a tree falling on my head if I were still lying around in bed with all the work I have yet to do.”
“I think I can give you a good reason to lie around in bed,” he answered with heat in his voice that warmed her to the core.
“Don’t tempt me, because that sounds more fun than removing this tree that’s fallen in love with my trailer.”
“Like I said, give me fifteen minutes and I’ll be back with two chainsaws and my winch. We’ll have your place treeless in no time.”
“No, I can’t deal with this today.” She suddenly realized how weary she felt—disheartened, mostly because the day, her life, had been on a road she’d been enjoying immensely. And that had been going on for, what, less than a day? And now this. She didn’t have the heart to argue with him anymore or explain why she wanted to handle this problem on her own. She was just…tired. She rubbed her temple, trying to shake herself free of the blues tinting her thoughts. “I’ll throw a tarp up or something and head back to Snowbrook.”
He was quiet for a moment. “All right. How about I make the hot chocolate?”
A smile spread across her face. “Deal.”
Chapter Six
Harlan was putting the finishing touches on two mugs of hot chocolate when Carol’s truck rolled down the drive at Snowbrook and parked over by the barn. By “finishing touches” he meant he’d poured a bit of tequila and peppermint schnapps in them. It was late afternoon, the sun almost setting. He’d headed back to Snowbrook first because Carol had wanted to stay at her trailer long enough to make a few calls and throw a tarp over the damage. He’d told her not to hurry because he wanted everything perfect when she arrived back home, including the spiked hot chocolate recipe. He guessed after today’s events Carol would appreciate the change.
The backdoor opened and she came inside, stomping off the snow from her boots. She smiled when she saw him approaching with two mugs, her pretty eyes lighting up with pleasure, and she quickly shucked out of her coat and hung her hat on a peg. He moved the mugs out of reach, away from her hands.
“Kiss first, cowgirl,” he said gravely.
“That’s extortion, Tex.” But her smile widened.
“I know.” He leaned in and kissed her. Her lips were cold, but he warmed them. She pressed against him—she fit so well against his body—but he still held the mugs, so he couldn’t wrap her in his arms without instigating a hot cocoa disaster.
“Is that for me?” she asked, blinking innocently. He handed over the mug without reply and watched as she held it to her face and inhaled deeply. “Peppermint?”
He nodded, trying not to smile. She took a sip and her eyes widened.
“Like it?” he asked.
“You spiked it! That’s…tequila and peppermint schnapps.” She took another sip. “And it’s gooooood.”
“Thought we both needed something to warm us up. More than the usual hot chocolate, after a day like this.”
She shook her head. “Started off perfect enough, though. Should’ve known it’d never last. I got the tarp up, held down with some bricks, but that’s a temporary fix, if that.”
He considered offering to lend a hand again, but now didn’t seem the right time as she’d brushed off his previous offers. Still, he wanted to do something for her, help her somehow. She was all bent out of shape about the tree damage, understandably so. Yet, that was a situation he knew he could handle easily enough. He couldn’t wrap his mind around why she’d first wanted to go it alone in dealing with the issue. When would she realize she didn’t have to prove anything to him?
No matter. He had other plans in that area. Now, though, he decided he needed to get her mind as far away from her problems as he could manage. So he nodded about the tarp, kept his own counsel, then slurped his spiked hot chocolate and made a show of smacking his lips.
“Damn, I make a fine cup o’ chocolate,” he said. “Sometimes I manage to impress even myself.”
She smirked. “Yeah, yeah. You preen worse than a peacock.” But she took another drink. “Although, this
is
pretty good.”
“Would you believe your aunt taught me how to make it?”
“Nuh-uh. My aunt? That harmless lady who likes to knit? I don’t believe it for a second.”
“True, though. When you finish up, you want to join me on a walk around? There’s some last minute things that need tending.”
Carol arched an eyebrow at him. “Don’t know if you noticed, but I just got out of my cold weather gear.” She lifted her mug. “And I’m finally starting to warm up.”
He slipped an arm around her waist and gave her a soft kiss. “Promise to make it worth your while.”
Her expression remained dubious, though she did come along…after finishing her drink.
The sun had set minutes ago as they walked toward the Snowbrook stables, and the sky changed to a gentle purple with streaks of fading orange shading a few low clouds.
Carol was staring off in the direction of her land as though she could view it through the trees. “Am I cursed with bad luck?”
He stopped and cocked his head. “Not sure if I should take that personal or not.”
She snorted. “Not
you
, you lummox. A car crash followed by a tree smashing my trailer? Is the universe trying to tell me something?”
“We can talk about that if you like,” he said, taking both her hands in his. “Or I can take your mind off it for a while. Your choice.”
“Take my mind off it, please.”
A smile spread across his face. “
Please
even. Reckon I like that.”
“
Reckon
you better stop gloating and get with the ‘taking my mind off it’ part.”
They entered the stable. The lights flickered to life with a gentle hum, and the air was warm and dry from the ambient heaters they ran in the winter. Pike nickered a greeting, followed by Dakota, Sable, and Jubilee. Together, they checked the hay, the auto-water troughs, made certain all the saddles and tack were stowed correctly, and spent a little time talking and petting each horse before moving on. Harlan glanced at the windows as they were finishing up. Dark out. Now or never on making his move. He flipped off the lights.
A loud crash and clanging startled him, followed by a curse from Carol.
“You okay?” he asked, concerned and feeling like an addle-headed fool for trying this.
“I knocked over a box of horse shoes. We lose power?”
He turned on the battery-powered lantern he’d brought and dialed up the dimmer until the tack room was bathed in a gentle yellow light. A box had spilled several steel horseshoes onto the wood floor. Carol bent over and scooped them up, while he admired the way her ass looked in those blue jeans. His cock stirred eagerly. Whoa, boy.
She set the box on the shelf again and turned back to him. She noticed where his eyes were and her mouth curled into a smile. “See something you like?”
“Appreciating the gorgeous view, ma’am.”
She laughed and glanced across the tack room to one of the windows and saw the exterior lighting was still on. “Wait, we didn’t lose power after all.”
“I shut off the lights. This is more romantic.”
“I could’ve tripped over something and killed myself because of your beef-headed stunt.”
He moved to her and slipped his arms around her, leaned in for a quick kiss. “Mood lighting.”
“An electric lantern.
Mood
lighting.”
He nodded gravely before kissing her. He slid his hands up her sides, lifted them to her face, and held her still long enough to stare into her eyes. He could see the building heat in them, her pupils wide in the dimmed glow of the lantern. He kissed along her neck, nuzzling her. She gasped out a quick breath that turned into a deep moan when his hand cupped her breast and began to stroke her through the fabric of her shirt and bra.