The Maverick's Snowbound Christmas

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 bonds 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.”