by Liz Isaacson
She had come down with pneumonia that had taken her to the hospital.
But the real reason—or at least a very strong contributing factor—for her near breakdown was Carter Lewis.
Oh, how she’d loved him.
Too bad he didn’t love her back.
Patsy pushed the maddening, gorgeous, cocky cowboy from her mind as she peeled back her covers and set her hot chocolate on her nightstand. The cabin only had one bedroom that she and Sophia had put a dressing panel down the middle of. They shared a bathroom too, and Patsy literally had to go sit in her car if she truly wanted to be alone. So her loneliness made no sense. Yet, it lingered in her soul.
“Come on, buddy,” she said to the little dog, and she scooped him up and put him on the bed. “There you go. You can snuggle with me.” She smiled at him, and it wasn’t hard. Patsy thought maybe she should get a whole family of dogs to take care of. She could mother them as well as human children, couldn’t she?
She set up her tablet and pulled her covers up to her waist, then reached for her hot chocolate. She’d just gotten hooked into her favorite murder mystery show when her phone rang.
Patsy sighed, but she didn’t have the right kind of genes to ignore a phone call. She dug in the blankets to find her phone, finally touching the hard plastic case. She lifted it to see Cy’s name on the screen.
She immediately dropped the phone, her heartbeat booming like a big, bass drum. She muttered as she grabbed the phone again, but she’d taken too long--the call went to voicemail. She watched as the screen darkened, wondering what he wanted on Christmas Day.
Should she call him back? Let him leave a message and then wait an episode so she didn’t seem desperate?
Patsy wasn’t desperate for another man in her life. Since Carter, she’d dated three or four men, and every one of them had turned out to be a loser. She somehow had a magnet for them, and she didn’t have high hopes for her and Cy either.
He was easily the most handsome man she’d ever laid eyes on, though…
“And he doesn’t need your money, your sister didn’t date him, he’s not unemployed, and he didn’t cheat on you with your best friend.”
Patsy paused for a moment, thinking through her last few single years. Yep, all of those had been true. She no longer had the best friend, or the cheater. She didn’t have to “compare notes” with Betty, nor did she have to try to figure out what to do with expensive gifts from an out-of-work man who then wanted to borrow what he’d given her.
Her phone bleeped and the voicemail icon popped up at the top of her screen. Patsy had forgotten about the murder mystery, the real-life drama playing out in her life so much better. She swiped and tapped, and a few moments later, the line rang. She held the phone in front of her, the ringing coming through the speaker.
“You have one message,” a cool, clinical voice said.
“Hey, Patsy,” Cy said. “It’s Cy Hammond. I know it’s Christmas Day and all that, but my family is done with all the celebrations, and I wondered if yours was too.” Something scuffled on his end of the line, and Patsy giggled when she imagined the cowboy billionaire dropping his phone.
She couldn’t believe he’d called already. Honestly, with how they bickered, she was a little surprised he’d called at all. Surely he knew they didn’t get along the greatest. At the same time, the fire between them certainly was hot, and Patsy had been attracted to other men, but none quite so much as Cy Hammond.
He finally added, “If you’re free, I’d love to see you today. My brother says there’s great snowshoeing round here, and I figured you being a local and all, you could show me the best spots. Okay, well, you can give me a call if you want…bye.”
The call ended, and the voicemail operator started talking again. Patsy sighed and leaned back against her headboard.
Snowshoeing had not been on her list of things to do that day. But if she could see Cy…. She did know a lot of great trails around Coral Canyon.
She sat up and tapped again, her pulse positively panicking in her veins while his phone rang.
“Patsy, hi,” he said, sounding a bit breathless. Something whirred in the background, and Patsy tried to figure out what at the same time her brain told her to say hello.
“What are you doing?” came out instead, and she pressed her eyes closed. Had she sounded accusatory? Probably.
“Oh, I got on the treadmill,” Cy said. “I have this nervous energy….” He let the words hang there, and Patsy could see him doing that. Gray Hammond, Cy’s brother, had run the canyon sometimes this past summer, and since all the Hammonds were tall, broad-shouldered, and beautiful, she felt like she knew exactly what Cy running on a treadmill looked like.
“Listen,” she said, to which he immediately said, “Uh, oh.”
“What?”
“Anytime someone starts a sentence with ‘listen,’ it’s bad.”
Patsy smiled, because the teasing quality of her voice landed loudly in her ears. “This might not be so bad,” she said.
“Lay it on me, Pats.”
Patsy blinked, surprised into silence for a moment. Then she pealed out a string of laughter, the joy overcoming her hitting her hard and fast. Cy chuckled with her, and when they quieted, he said, “Sorry. I don’t know where that came from.”
“It’s okay,” she said. “I actually hate my name.”
“You do?”
“Yeah.”
“Why’s that?”
“How many Patsy’s have you met in your life?” she asked, cocking her head as if he were there.
“Well, I don’t know. I’m sure some.”
“I’m sure you haven’t,” she said. “Unless you spend a lot of time in retirement homes, Cy.” She giggled again, though she really disliked her name. “It’s an old lady name. My sister is Betty. She hates it too. We’re not ninety-five-years-old.”
Cy remained quiet for a moment. “What about Patty?”
“How is Patty better than Patsy?” she challenged, plenty of her own teasing in her voice. “Besides, that’s not a nickname for Patsy; it’s a whole new name.”
“Yeah, I see that,” he said.
“Is Cy your whole name?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said. “Two letters is all I got.”
“Oh, I think you have more than that,” she said. “Must be a family name.”
“How did you know that?” he asked.
“Lucky guess,” she said, smiling as she threw her covers off. “So listen, Cy. It’s freezing outside. Not sure if you’re aware of what state you’re in and what the thermometer actually says.” She stood in front of the window in the bedroom and looked outside. As if taking sides, Mother Nature sent a gust of wind across the back fence, sending snow flying up into the air.
“It’s supposed to snow this afternoon,” she said. “And it looks like it’s getting started.” She swallowed, suddenly needing something to drink.
“So another time,” Cy said, his tone turning dark.
“Well, I was wondering if you could stand to stay inside,” she said. “You could run a couple of miles, shower, and come up to my cabin. I have stuff to make pizza, and we could make dinner together, and light a fire, and put on a movie.” The idea sounded ridiculous to her own ears as she spoke it.
Make pizza?
This wasn’t a high school dance.
“What kind of pizza?”
“I have pepperoni, olives—”
“I’m kidding, Patsy,” he said, chuckling. A sliver of embarrassment moved through her, and she didn’t know what to say.
“You live at the lodge?”
“There’s a cabin behind it,” she said. “If you park way down at the far south side of the lot, you can see it behind the lodge. I’ll make sure the lights are on in the living room and bathroom. They’re on that side of the cabin.”
“I’m on my way,” he said.
“You’re not going to run?” She thought of that rubber band he wore around his wrist. Did h
e wear it all the time? Would he snap it when he was with her?
“I don’t need to now,” he said. “See in you a few.”
The call ended, and Patsy looked at the screen as the number showed, along with how long they’d been talking. Eight minutes. It had felt a lot shorter and a lot longer than that.
“Come on, Jonas,” she said. “We have work to do.” She hurried into the bathroom and made sure there was toilet paper and quickly used a cleaning wipe to disinfect the countertop, door handles, and toilet.
In the kitchen, she loaded the dirty dishes into the dishwasher, and she picked up her and Sophia’s boots from beside the front door. She stood there, surveying the rest of the cabin, realizing the small, intimate space she’d just invited the big, bold, boisterous Cy Hammond to share with her.
Her heartbeat flew into a frenzy, but her mind still got enough blood to tell her to warn Sophia. Patsy almost dropped her phone as she tried to get it out of her pocket. With it firmly in hand, she sent a quick text to her roommate.
I invited Cy Hammond to the cabin. Maybe I’m insane? We’re going to make pizza and—
Her mind snapped.
“Did I really said we could light a fire?” Horror snaked through her, because oh, yes. She had.
Light a fire.
Was that an activity couples did on dates?
Was this a date? She looked down at her comfortable elastic-waisted pants and long-sleeved sweater. Should she change her clothes if this was a date?
She shook her head, trying to get the self-doubt and questions to stop. She’d met Cy several times now. Sure, he had charisma oozing from him. He was gorgeous. He called to her as much as he annoyed her, and Patsy returned to her text.
I’m definitely insane. Tell me this is a bad idea.
Not a bad idea, Sophia said a few seconds later. And I’ll stay here through dinner. Have fun! Can’t wait to hear all about it.
Patsy let her phone drop to her side, her fingers barely holding onto it.
Chapter Five
“You’re going to get stuck at that lodge,” Cy told himself as he aimed the truck up and into the storm. Into it. Anyone with half a brain would know driving on this road in this direction was a bad idea.
And yet, he couldn’t get himself to turn around.
“Okay, talk to me, Lord,” he said. “Up or down?” Cy was having a very hard time deciphering which promptings were coming from God and which were his own desires to see Patsy that day.
He and Ames had sat on the couch for a solid hour, brainstorming things Cy could say to Patsy. It had been Colton who’d finally said, “She’s a local, you guys. Ask her to take you to do something locally.”
“Like what?” Ames had asked.
“I don’t know,” Colton said. “Wes made Bree take him hiking.” That had gotten everyone involved, which was exactly what Cy hadn’t wanted.
“I didn’t make her take me hiking,” Wes said, offended. “I asked her to show me her favorite trails.”
“There you go,” Ames said. “Hiking trails.”
“It’s ten below freezing,” Wes said. “You want her to take you skiing or snowshoeing.” He’d stood at that point as his baby had started to fuss.
“Patsy likes snowshoeing,” Bree had said, smiling at Cy.
After that, the plan to get a Christmas date with Patsy had come together. Cy didn’t want to believe that God had put everything together so perfectly, only to have the weather ruin what he hoped would be an amazing afternoon.
So he kept driving.
He wasn’t sure what about Patsy spoke to his soul so strongly, only that he dang near craved her presence. He wanted to run his fingers through her short hair and see if he could hold onto it while he kissed her.
He blinked rapidly, trying to regain control of his thoughts. He scoffed at the idea of kissing Patsy. They were a long way from that, and he shouldn’t even be thinking about it.
His truck shook with a particularly violent gust of wind, and Cy started praying that he’d make it to the lodge at all. Eventually, he saw the lights shining from the windows, and he pulled into the parking lot.
It wasn’t anywhere close to nightfall yet, but the gray storm clouds certainly made it feel like it. He’d just put his truck in park when the first flakes of snow landed on the windshield, and Cy killed the ignition and got out, already looking for the cabin behind the lodge.
Three rectangles of light beckoned to him, and Cy wasted no time in getting to the cabin. A wide porch extended from the front of the cabin, and it was covered, thankfully. But a covered deck didn’t protect from the subzero temperatures or the wind, and Cy quickly rang the doorbell.
“Coming,” Patsy called from within, and a few seconds later, the lock unlatched and the petite, pretty blonde woman stood in front of him.
Cy smiled at her, wondering what she thought of him driving into the center of the storm just to see her. It reeked of desperation, but Cy couldn’t go back in time now, turn around, and save himself some humiliation.
“Come in,” Patsy said, falling back a couple of steps.
Cy did, nodding his cowboy hat at her. “Hey, Patsy,” he said when he realized he hadn’t even greeted her yet. So he could add creepy, silent staring to his list of blunders.
Honestly, he felt like he’d never been out with a woman before. He reminded himself that he had as he closed the door behind him, sealing them in the cozy cabin together. “This is nice,” he said.
“It functions,” Patsy said. “And this is all there is, so this is the grand tour.” She gestured to the couch as if she were game show host displaying a luxurious prize. “This is the living room. As you can see, we have two couches in a shade of gray that matches the rug and the curtains.” She turned slightly and pointed into the kitchen. “The kitchen is where we’re going to start today, and we recently upgraded to these fingerprint-resistant, stainless steel appliances when our fridge went out.”
She grinned and walked into the kitchen. Cy stayed where he was, basking in the good energy she put out. She wore a loose pair of black pants that could’ve been slacks or lounge pants, and they looked great on her. A blue, long-sleeved shirt completed her ensemble, and the color brought out the dazzling azure of her eyes.
“I ate a ton for breakfast,” she said, which spurred Cy into motion, and he followed her into the kitchen. She glanced at him as he joined her at the butcher block in the center of the room. “So I skipped lunch. Are you hungry?”
“Not even a little bit,” he said. “We had a huge breakfast, brunch, thing only a few hours ago.”
Patsy looked down at the dry ingredients she’d gathered—flour, sugar, salt, yeast. “Maybe we should wait a little bit to make dinner.”
“Well, it’s only two-thirty,” he said. “So we have time.” He grinned at her and nudged her playfully with his elbow. “Unless you have the dining habits of someone you share your name with, and you eat dinner at four o’clock.”
She looked at him like he’d just spoken another language, and Cy cursed himself for trying to be funny about her name. Then, all at once, a smile spread those very pink lips, and she shook her head. “I shouldn’t have told you about my name.”
“No, I liked it,” he said. “I can see what you mean.”
“So who were you named after?” She turned toward him and leaned her hip into the butcher block. With her facing him, and her makeup done just-so, and her hair styled perfectly, and all that blue getting absorbed into her eyes, Cy was struck dumb by her beauty.
“Ah, must’ve been a black sheep in the family,” Patsy teased, breaking Cy from his trance.
“You know what?” Cy asked. “He was, and I’m definitely the outsider in my family.”
“Are you?”
“Oh-ho, yeah,” he said, half chuckling. “You’ve met my brothers. Tell me I’m like them.”
Patsy tilted her head, never looking away from him. “You own your own business.”
“Yes, well, We
s was born and groomed to be a CEO. The letters flow in his blood. Gray, the next oldest, argued cases for fun in high school. My mother sometimes joked that he’d come home from the hospital in a suit and tie.”
Cy shook his head. “Colton is the fun-loving one. The one everyone gets along with. Each of us thinks we’re his best friend, when really he’s best friends with all of us. He’s the glue between the two older brothers—the perfect Hammonds—and me and Ames—the oddball twins.”
He grinned at her, his words the truest he’d spoken in years. She looked like she didn’t believe him, though her smile remained.
“Hey,” she said. “You’re wearing jeans today, so I don’t think you’re that odd.”
Cy burst out laughing, his hand sliding easily along her waist as he put his arm around her. She giggled too and barely reacted to his touch. He wasn’t sure if he was happy about that or not. Sparks popped through him, and the motion had felt so natural. Almost like he’d touched Patsy this way before, like they were old friends, and he could lean down and press his mouth to hers, and it wouldn’t even be weird.
The moment broke, and Cy eased away from her. “So I stopped for marshmallows.” He looked toward the front door. “But I forgot them in the truck.” The thought of going back out into the storm didn’t appeal to him, and he glanced back at Patsy. “I thought we could start a fire and have indoor s’mores.”
“We have fondue forks,” she said, opening a drawer. She took out a few long forks and lifted them up.
“I’ll go grab the stuff,” he said. He zipped up his coat again and walked toward the door.
“Don’t die out there,” she said. “And when you get back, you have to tell me about your name. You still haven’t said who you’re named after.”
“All right,” he said over his shoulder, and he braved the wind and snow to make the trek to his truck and back. He didn’t bother knocking when he returned, because his hand that carried the groceries was going to be lost to frostbite.
He stomped his feet just inside the door while he wrestled it closed and turned to find Patsy kneeling in front of the fireplace. She’d started to build the embers into a flame, and Cy shrugged out of his coat and hung it on a hook by the door, took his groceries into the kitchen, and joined her.
