The Cowboy Seal's Christmas Baby

“O-okay.”

“What?” He looked back. “I’m growing way too familiar with that look of yours.”

“I’m tired of dead ends. When will one of our theories pan out?”

“In due time. Relax.”

“How?”

“I don’t often share this—hell, I haven’t even thought of it in years. But back in my swinging single days, I was known for giving magic massages.”

“Yeah?” She couldn’t help but laugh.

“Yuk it up. After cooking dinner, I was going to offer you one of my top-secret, patented shoulder rubs, but if you don’t want one, I—”

“Oh—I never said that. In fact, just as soon as Chip’s finished his meal, let’s go ahead and have ours. I’m excited to gain firsthand knowledge of your supposed skills.”

“That’s what all the ladies used to say.” Through the open tent flap, she watched him walk toward his impressive fire pit. The way he filled out his Wranglers was mighty impressive, too.

This more playful side of him was a charmer.

Jane closed her eyes, imagining a young Gideon, fresh out of basic training, out for a good time on a Friday night. Was he like this all the time back then? Unfettered by the emotional baggage that now seemed to have him on constant guard? What happened to him? Would she ever know?

Chip had finished, so Jane began the now-familiar task of closing her bra and other garments. She set the baby on top of her sleeping bag that she’d already rolled out, then dug into her pack for freeze-dried dinner packets to prepare.

She called to Gideon, “Craving beef stroganoff or chicken and rice?”

“Neither!” he said above the noise of his hatchet biting into a small downed pine. She glanced over her shoulder to find he’d removed his shirt and slung it over his shoulder. He’d worked up a sweat. His chest and washboard abs glistened in the sun.

Oh my. Her mouth went dry.

If she was a married woman, she shouldn’t be this attracted to a stranger. Yet there it was—an undeniable visceral pull toward this cowboy who’d saved her and her baby’s lives.

Determined to turn her focus to anything more productive, she worked on changing Chip’s makeshift diaper. What she wouldn’t give for a box of premoistened wipes...

She made do with the remains of her water bottle and a wad of paper towels, then swaddled him in preparation for cooler temperatures once the sun dipped below the neighboring mountain range.

Outside the tent, she found that Gideon thankfully was clothed, only his black leather cowboy hat didn’t exactly detract from his looks while he started the fire. Soon, woodsmoke flavored the air, and he’d rigged a tri-pole wooden support frame for his cast-iron pot.

“You’re really good at all of this.” She perched on one of the logs he’d dragged next to the fire.

“Given the right tools, anyone could do it.”

“Not according to some of the reality-style survival shows I’ve seen.”

“Oh, yeah?” Still working, he rounded in front of her, giving her an up-front view of his powerful thighs and that Wrangler-clad behind. Cue her wild pulse. She licked her lips. This wasn’t good. “Do you remember being an armchair fan of that sort of thing?”

“No clue. But I guess I’d have to be if it’s coming to mind. It just seems like making a fire doesn’t come as easy to most people as it does to you.”

He shrugged.

“You never told me what you did in the Navy.”

“This and that.” He added a log to the fire.

“Did you do ‘this and that’ on a sub? An aircraft carrier?”

“I was a SEAL. My team and I pretty much did whatever needed doing. End of story.”