Stranded With The Rancher

“The sudden change surprised me, too. That parka will keep you warm.”

“I’m sorry for just showing up like this. What can I do to make the situation better?”

He stifled a frustrated laugh and reached for the extra sleeping bag. After unrolling it, he pulled out the pillow tucked inside. Once he’d grabbed a blanket, he threw it and the pillow on the end of the bag.

“If you want to put your suitcase over here next to your sleeping bag, I’ll turn on the heater and warm up our dinner. Then we’ll talk.”

The fierce wind and rain didn’t let up. Wyatt had set up a temporary kitchen near the back opening with his food supplies and heated the coffee on his stove. “Sugar?”

“Yes, please.”

He dropped in two cubes and handed her a mug. The steam mixed with the flowery fragrance she’d brought inside the tent. She had moved the stool over to the end of the sleeping bag and brushed her hair. It gleamed a shimmering silvery blonde in the light of the lantern hanging from the ceiling of the tent. The wind gusts had grown worse, causing the lantern to swing.

To his dismay, his attention wandered to the pale yellow crewneck cotton sweater she’d put on beneath the parka. His gaze fell lower to her legs. The cowboy boots managed to accentuate the elegant length of her figure. He estimated she was five foot seven or so.

Still surprised to find himself in a small tent with a beautiful woman in the middle of a terrible storm, he got busy opening containers of biscuits and beef stew. When the meal was ready, he handed her a bowl of food and a spoon. She thanked him, and he sat down cross-legged on his sleeping bag while they ate.

“Do you think this storm is going to last long?”

Wyatt figured she must be terrified out of her wits, but she handled it with amazing calm. “I’m afraid it’s going to go on all night.”

“You’re kidding! But it’s only September!”

He got up to serve himself a second helping. “Ten years ago an early-fall storm swept through the Wind River Range unexpectedly. This feels just like it. I’m surprised my granddad sent you up here.” However unexpected the impending storm, a seasoned man like his grandfather must’ve known it was coming. Was the old man losing his touch?

“Your grandfather was anxious I get the chance to speak to you before I go home on Saturday. I’m certain he didn’t know.”

Wyatt hated to tell her this, but no one was going home on Saturday, or anytime soon. “Jose has worked for my grandfather for years in all kinds of weather. He must not have sensed how bad the coming storm is, or he would have refused to bring you.”

“I’m sure the last thing he wanted to do was drive me up here.”

Wyatt glanced at her. “He was just doing what my grandfather pays him to do. Would you like more stew or biscuits?”

“No, thank you. The food was delicious.”

He had to admit her polite manner warmed him. Wyatt glanced at his watch. Eight thirty. Before she went to bed she would need to go outside to the compost privy he’d set up in the one-man tent. But it was a little early for that. Wyatt got to his feet and put her bowl over by the makeshift kitchen area he’d set up with a little camp table. His custom-made tent had been enlarged on purpose to handle more gear.

“I have to talk to Pali, but I’ll be right back.”

After rummaging in his duffel bag for his hooded windbreaker, he put it on over his parka and let himself out of the tent, into the raging storm.

Wyatt ran against the powerful wind and stinging rain to Pali’s trailer. Gip must have heard him outside and barked, because his friend opened the door so he could get in fast. The two men stared at each other.

“We’re in for it this trip, Pali. Remember ten years ago?” Wyatt had been nineteen back then. Pali had been twenty-three.

The other man nodded. “Twenty-four inches of snow. We were stranded with the sheep for days.”

“Yup. It’s going to happen again.”

“Do you want the woman to stay in here? I can room with you.”

“Thank you, but I believe she’s nervous and probably won’t like being alone. I think it will be better if she sleeps in my tent tonight. Tomorrow could be a different story. Do you need anything before I go back to her? Thank God I brought plenty of food and supplies.”

“That’s good to know, but I’m fine.”

“All right. See you in the morning.”

He patted Gip’s head before facing the elements again. This time, icy shards of sleet attacked him. It was turning fast. There was going to be a storm the likes of which he suspected Alex Dorney had never experienced.

* * *

WRAPPED IN THE PARKA, Alex sat on the stool and drank another mug of coffee. It was great coffee, much better than she was used to, and she was comfortable enough because of the heater Wyatt had turned on. But she continued to shiver at the ferocity of the storm raging outside. If she didn’t know better, they could be on Mount Everest, which was a silly thing to think since she’d never been on any mountain.

She didn’t fear for her life. Royden Fielding’s grandson had already proved he was a breed apart from any man she’d ever met or known. She was convinced he could handle any situation and wouldn’t let anything happen to her. But home felt an eternity away and she was stuck up here with a total stranger who hadn’t asked for her company.

A man who didn’t have the right to be so impossibly gorgeous. Being a writer who made her living choosing the right words, Alex kept coming back to that particular adjective because no other synonym, like striking, attractive or handsome, adequately described him. She wondered if he was married. If so, he didn’t wear a ring, and his grandfather hadn’t mentioned a wife.

When he came back into the tent, removing his windbreaker and parka, she couldn’t decide which look she liked better—the firefighter in dress uniform or the hunky mountain man needing a shave. He wore a long-sleeved wool shirt and jeans that molded to his powerful thighs. The combination of disheveled raven-black hair and eyes that glowed blue was too much. Maybe the lack of oxygen really had affected her.

“Ms. Dorney? The privy tent is right around the side of this one. You can hold my windbreaker over your head while I take you out. Shall we go now?”

“Yes. Thank you.”

She’d been worrying about that. After she carried the mug over to the little kitchen camp table, he handed her the windbreaker to arrange before he put his parka back on. “The wind is gusting, so just hold on to my arm.”

“Oh—” she cried when she stepped out of the tent. The blizzard blew nonstop snow in her face. She might as well have been blind as he led her to the little tent he unzipped. After he handed her a flashlight, she managed to zip up the tent and do her thing. The whistle of the wind sounded so eerie, she was afraid she’d be carried off into the void.

In any other situation, she’d rather go through this alone, but at the moment she was thankful he was right there when she unzipped the flap again. He pulled her against his rock-solid body and zipped the tent closed, then held her around the waist until they reached the entrance to the big tent. The warmth and safety of it and him, felt like heaven.

He took the windbreaker and shook off some of the snow before zipping them inside. Alex walked over to the heater and knelt in front of it for a minute.

“More coffee?”

“No, thank you. I think I’d better not.”

“Smart girl.”

“More like desperate.”

When she stood up, she found him smiling. It warmed every ounce of her body. The high altitude couldn’t be blamed this time for turning her legs into traitors.

“Here I thought I’d be staying overnight in a saloon with rooms upstairs when I drove into Whitebark.”

“And a bunch of rowdy cowhands throwing a week’s pay at you for the chance to be up there with you?”

She laughed. “Something like that.”

One black brow lifted wickedly. “The place exists.”