A Husband For Christmas: Snow Kisses / Lionhearted

“Stop it, for God’s sake,” he said bluntly. “So you got mauled. You’ve had a terrible experience, and I’m sorry as hell, but it doesn’t change who you are!”

Her lips trembled. “I feel unclean,” she whispered, shaken. “As if I’d been robbed of something I had the right to give to a man I chose. He touched me in ways no man ever did, not even you...”

He drew in a ragged breath. “Yes, you were robbed, but not of your chastity. Even if he’d raped you, you’d still have that.”

She stared up at him numbly. “What?”

He lit a cigarette with unsteady fingers. “Oh, hell, I’m putting this badly.” He blew out a cloud of smoke and stared down at her with narrowed eyes. “Abby, how long ago did it happen?”

“Week before last,” she confessed.

“Okay, and you’re still raw, that makes sense. But you’ll get over it. And it will be different, with a man you care about.”

Her lips pouted. “It wasn’t any different this afternoon. You scared me to death.”

His face paled, but he didn’t look away. “My fault. I’ve been without a woman for a while, and the feel of you went to my head. I was rougher than I ever meant to be. But you’ve got to help yourself a little by not dwelling on what happened to you.”

“How can I help it? It makes me sick just remembering...!” she burst out.

“Put it in perspective, honey,” he said curtly, jamming his bandaged hand in his pocket as if he were afraid he might try to touch her with it. “Has it occurred to you that by letting the experience warp your mind, you’re giving that piece of scum who attacked you more rights over you than you’d give a husband?”

She stared at him, stunned.

He took another long draw from the cigarette. “You’re giving him the right to dominate your life, by dwelling on what happened, by blowing up what he did to you and letting it lock you up emotionally and physically.”

“I...hadn’t thought of it like that.”

“Suppose you start.”

She wrapped her arms around her trembling body. “You can’t know how it is for a woman,” she murmured. “Against a man’s strength...”

“I can remember a time in your life when you very much liked being helpless against mine,” he said under his breath.

“That was different. I knew you’d never hurt me.”

“You knew that this afternoon, but you fought me like a wildcat.”

She flushed. “You hurt me!”

His jaw tightened. “Do you think because I have to be hard with my men that I’m that hard inside? You get under my skin like no other woman ever has. You deliberately needle me and then take offense when I defend myself. It’s always been that way.”

“I never thought you could be hurt,” she murmured, avoiding his piercing gaze. “Least of all by me.”

“Why talk about it?” he asked wearily. “It’s all water under the bridge now.”

“Thanks for the therapy session,” she said softly and smiled, because she meant it.

He smiled back. “Did it help?”

She nodded. Her eyes searched his. “Cade, I’m sorry I screamed this afternoon.”

He reached down and smoothed a lock of hair from her face. “I didn’t know. Now I do. Give it time—you’ll be fine. I’ll help.”

“Thanks for letting me come.”

He looked strange for a minute. “When Melly said you wanted to get here early for the wedding, so you could spend some time on the ranch, I didn’t know the real reason. I thought...” He dropped his hand with a gruff laugh. “You can still sleep with me, if you want. I wouldn’t touch you.”

Her soft eyes searched his, and he looked back as if it were beyond his power to remove his eyes from hers. “Calla and Melly would be shocked to the back teeth,” she whispered, trying to joke about it and failing. It would have been heaven to lie in his arms all night. “But thank you for the offer.”

He shrugged. “It wasn’t for purely selfless reasons,” he said, winking at her. “Bed’s damned cold in early spring,” he chuckled.

She hit him softly. “Beast!”

“Think you can sleep now?”

She nodded. “I feel a little different about it. Maybe I just need time to put things into perspective, after all.”

“If you’d like something to occupy your mind, I’ll take you out to see the rest of the calves in the morning.”

“Oh, boy,” she said enthusiastically. “But what if it snows again?” she asked. “It was awfully cloudy this afternoon and cold as blazes and the radio says—”

“When has snow ever stopped me?” he asked, chuckling. “Night, honey.” He turned and strode off toward the stairs.

When has anything ever stopped you? she asked herself silently.

Except once...she’d never realized until now that he’d really wanted her that night. He’d been so cool and calm on the surface that she’d halfway convinced herself he had only been satisfying her curiosity to keep her from experimenting with younger, more hot-blooded males. But now she began to wonder. She was still wondering when she fell into a deep, satisfying sleep.

7 (#ulink_a795cdd0-91f3-53cd-a23b-bf1dc57ba4e6)

Cade had offered to take Abby back to see the calves, but by morning the snow had covered Painted Ridge and he was out with his men trying to bring in the half-frozen calves and their new mothers. According to Hank, Cade was cursing a blue streak from one end of the ranch to the other.

“Wants his other gloves,” Hank growled at Calla when he paused in the hall, the familiar wad of tobacco tucked into his cheek. “Ruined a pair trying to unhook one of them damned cows from the barbed wire.”

“He goes through gloves like some men go through food,” Calla grumbled, shooting an irritated glance at Hank for interrupting her in the middle of lunch preparation. “Only got one pair left as it is. You best remember to tell him that!”

“Can’t tell him a damned thing,” Hank muttered, waiting uncomfortably in the hall. His wide-brimmed hat was spotted with melted snow, and his heavy cloth coat was equally damp. “He hit the ground cussing this morning and he ain’t stopped yet. I just follow orders, I don’t give ’em!” he shouted after Calla.

“Is it bad out there?” Melly called from the den, where she was busily operating Cade’s computer.

“Bad enough,” Hank replied. “Hope your fingers are rested, Miss Melly, ’cause you’re sure going to do some typing when we get a tally on these new calves!”

“As usual.” Melly laughed. “Don’t worry about it, Hank, I get paid good.”

“If we got paid what we was worth, Cade would go in the hole, I guess,” the thin cowboy said to no one in particular. He glanced at Abby, who was standing there quietly in her jeans and a blue turtleneck sweater. “I hear you’re going to stay with us till Miss Melly’s wedding. How’re you settling in?”

She smiled. “Just fine. It feels like old times.”

“Far cry from the city,” he observed.