Lassoing A Montana Heart

by Flightner, Ramona

  He let out a shaky breath and then another, as he prayed for the cold to put a damper on his ardor. Nothing could have prepared him for her soft admission. For her confession that she was as attuned to him as he was to her. Not a day passed that he didn’t long to see her. No matter that he had attempted to ignore her. It had all been in vain.

  Clinging to Frederick’s words, Slims had fed his anger that she hadn’t wanted the hands to eat with them. Even as each meal, where she had shown a warm welcome and a genuine interest in all present, had proven there had been a misunderstanding, Slims had chosen to nurture his resentment. Anything to protect himself from the growing attraction he had for her.

  “Look how well that worked,” he muttered, hitting his fist on the railing, as his mind filled with the sensation and the memory of holding her. Kissing her. Feeling her desire match his. Never had he thought to know such passion from a mere kiss. He rubbed at his lips, feeling bereft that they were parted from hers.

  “Fool,” he admonished himself. With a long sigh, he knew he must avoid being alone with her again. She was a drug he could not become addicted to, for she could never be his.

  * * *

  A week later toward the end of January, Slims sat at the kitchen table, sipping at his coffee, after eating his fill of the simple, delicious breakfast Davina had prepared for them. He hid his smile behind his coffee cup as he watched her battle embarrassment as Dixon flirted with her. He wasn’t overly concerned, as she seemed more flustered than charmed by the younger man’s attentions. She had grown increasingly disconcerted during the past week, now that she knew the man wasn’t just chattering at her but flirting with her.

  Slims raised an eyebrow as Frederick entered the kitchen and smiled at everyone, although Frederick’s hair stuck out at odd angles, and he had dark circles under his eyes. Battling a yawn, Frederick sat in his customary chair. “I trust everyone had a restful evening.” He grimaced as he looked at Davina. “Well, except for you, cousin. I fear you suffered as Sorcha and I did.”

  “What happened, Boss?” Dalton asked, as he sipped at his coffee. He eyed the platter of bacon, as though deciding if he wanted another serving.

  “The babes are teething, and they weren’t shy about hiding their misery last night.” He yawned hugely, stretching his arms overhead. “Sorcha’s abed. Mairi and Harold are finally asleep and will hopefully rest for another hour or so.”

  The men nodded and began to speak in barely audible whispers. “Will they be all right, Boss?” Dixon asked. He jumped as Shorty belted him on his arm and shook his head at him. “Well, it’s a decent question.”

  “They’re teething, boy. Every baby has to get his teeth. I’m sure you drove your mama mad when you got yours.”

  Dixon shrugged, as the other men snickered.

  Frederick moved to pour himself a cup of coffee and gazed outside. “Looks like as fine a day as we’ll have for a while.” He glanced over his shoulder at Slims. “Do you think you could make it to town?”

  Slims rose and looked out the window. “If I go alone, there will be little to worry about.”

  Shaking his head, Frederick slurped a sip of the hot drink. “No, you know Davina has to go with you. To attempt to retrieve her trunk.” He looked out at the cloud-covered sky. “What do you think?”

  Slims swore under his breath. “Damned if I know. It’s been like this for over a week and barely snowed enough to cover a hoof print.” He leaned his hip against the counter. “It’s still, but that could be a sign of calm weather or a wicked storm brewin’.”

  Frederick nodded. “I agree. It’s your decision. But, if you’re going, go soon.” He slapped his friend on his shoulder, before returning to the table and smiling at Davina, who had watched their interaction with concern in her gaze.

  Slims quietly shut the kitchen door behind him and strode outside to stand near the drive, as he looked to the heavens and breathed deeply of the clear, cold air. At times he thought he could smell snow on the breeze, but today all he noted was an increased chill. He had read about the use of barometers to aid in predicting weather changes, but they did not have such a device at the ranch. Instead he had to try to read the weather, which was an imprecise art.

  Shorty sidled up next to him. “What do you think?”

  Slims stared at the overcast sky. “I think everything would be simpler if I could hightail into and out of town by myself. But Boss wants me to take her. And that makes everything more complicated.” He shook his head in dismay. “What do you think, Short?”

  “We haven’t had snow for days. It doesn’t feel any different today than it has since the last big snow two weeks ago. There’s no reason the weather won’t hold long enough for you to race in and out of town. As long as that woman doesn’t have a mind to shop at the store.”

  Slims chuckled. “She doesn’t strike me as a woman with a hankerin’ for fine china and lace. But what do I know?” He shared an amused glance with his friend. “I’ll inform Boss, and then I’ll help you ready the sleigh and horses.”

  Shorty nodded, walking toward the barn.

  Slims took one last glance at the sky, fighting a sinking sensation that, no matter what he did, it would be the wrong decision. “Well, might as well do somethin’,” he muttered, as he moved to the house to inform Davina to prepare for their quick trip into town.

  * * *

  After snuggling under the blankets beside Slims, Davina worried that a residual awkwardness would exist between them after their kiss a week ago. However, Slims stared at the horses and the snow covered road and acted as though she weren’t even present. Although she knew she should be offended, a wave of exhaustion engulfed her. She yawned and valiantly fought to remain awake.

  However, after her near-sleepless night with the twins crying their agony over their teething, she lost her battle, and her head bobbed with the sleigh’s movements. Soon it came to rest on Slims’s shoulder, where she unconsciously curled farther into his warmth.

  Slims swore, and the sleigh veered off the road. Davina jerked awake. Screeching, she gripped the edge of the seat and the sleigh, fighting being thrown from it, as the sleigh rocked precariously before coming to a precipitous halt. She peered over the blanket, where a fierce gust of wind froze her exposed skin and made her even more reluctant to leave her warm cocoon. Instead, she scooted over to nestle against the large man. “Why is it already night?” she asked around a huge yawn, intent on resuming her nap.

  “It’s not,” he half yelled to be heard over the wind as he gasped for breath. “A storm hit, and we were halfway between town and the ranch. I had hoped we could make it to Leena and Karl’s, but I can’t see anything.”

  She sat up, the blanket dropping around her waist, and she belatedly realized it was covered in inches of snow. “We canna stay here overnight.” Davina stared at Slims with dawning horror, as she began to comprehend the gravity of their predicament.

  Slims shook his head. “No. And pray this storm blows out tonight. We wouldn’t want to be stranded here for days.” With those ominous words, he tied down the reins and hopped from the sleigh. After patting each horse on the head, he walked away, disappearing after a few steps into the storm.

  “Ye canna think to leave me here!” Davina cried out. “I ken I’m not the ideal woman, but ye canna be that cruel.” She stared out into the overwhelming gray and whiteness as snow continued to fall. Fighting an almost uncontrollable panic, she forced herself to remain seated in the sleigh, tugging the blanket around her shoulders. Rather than praying for the storm to end quickly, her prayers were simpler. Over and over, she repeated in her mind, Please come back. Please come back, as tears silently coursed down her cheeks. A wicked wind began to howl, freezing her tears on her cheeks, and she tugged the blanket over her again, any perception of safety and comfort vanquished by a sense of impending doom.

  “Miss?”

  She leaned forward at the faint call.

  “Slims?” she screamed. “Slims!” />
  “Keep callin’ my name. I can’t make heads nor tails of where I am.”

  Davina continued to call out to him, her prayer for him to return to her answered when he suddenly appeared beside her. She jumped at his sudden reappearance. “Slims,” she gasped.

  “Thank God, woman,” he murmured. He shivered as another cold breeze blew. “If we’re fortunate, I’ll be able to walk the horses and the sleigh to a nearby cabin.” He extracted a rope from the back of the sleigh and moved to the front of the team, where he tied it to the harness between the two horses. It was a novice way of moving the team, but he kept a short lead on the animals and soothed them with his soft voice, as they walked gingerly forward.

  Davina sat in the sleigh, huddled under her blanket, clinging to hope that they would arrive to the cabin safely. They moved in jerky motions but always in a forward manner. After what seemed like an eternity, but what she knew was most likely only a matter of less than one-quarter of an hour, she faintly heard Slims say, “Whoa,” to the horses. “Are we there?” she called out, to be heard over the wind.

  “Yes,” he yelled. “Wait for me.” He appeared and held out his arms. “Let me carry you.” Without waiting for her response, he picked her up and slung her into his arms. “You’d have fallen in the deep snow.” He trudged with steady strides through the ever-deepening snow toward a dark mass which took shape as a cabin only as they were upon it. Shielding her with his body, he flung the door open and set her inside. “I’ll be back after I’ve tended the horses. Try to stay warm.”

  She gaped after him as the door slammed shut. After a moment filled with shock and uncertainty, she shook the snow-covered blanket out near the door and fought bone-deep shivers. Long shadows filled the single room, with the frigid air seeping in through gaps in the wood planks and under the door. A pallet of sorts was in one corner, but there was no stove or anything else that would warm them.

  She moved away from the door, toward the pallet, pulling her coat tightly around her. After she sat on the pallet, she wrapped the blanket around her, trying to envision a warm day in the Highlands. The feel of the sun on her face. Anything to banish the sense of dread and doom as the gusts rattled the small cabin, making it feel as though it were to be torn to pieces at any moment.

  She stared at the door, willing Slims to return. She instinctively knew that, if he failed to return, she would not survive this ordeal. His presence was intrinsically tied to her enduring this nightmare experience. After what seemed like an eternity, and, as the storm raged and as the sky darkened even further, the door rattled open. At first, she feared the wind had burst it open, and she gave a small scream in fright. But then she recognized Slims standing there, shaking and quivering.

  Pushing herself up, she tripped on the blanket and raced to him. “Come away from the door, Slims,” she said, tugging on his arm. “Come inside.”

  “It’s barely warmer in here than out there,” he muttered, dropping the objects in his arms.

  She looked down, seeing the fur blanket that lined the sleigh and another blanket. “Come to the pallet.” She urged him to sit down, but, as her hands roved over him, while flinging the blanket around his shoulders, she realized he was soaked through. “Take your clothes off.” She flushed at the command but then ignored any sense of wickedness or shamelessness as he shook in her arms.

  “I can’t make my fingers work the buttons,” he stammered out.

  With a disgruntled mutter, Davina moved in front of him, her fingers agile and born of desperation, as she freed him of first his coat and then of his waistcoat and shirt. “Why ye chose today of all days to wear so many clothes,” she muttered.

  “I was goin’ to town,” he shivered out. “Like to look my best as the foreman.”

  She bit her lip at any further complaints, her hands pausing at his pants. She shared a long look with him and then worked on those fastenings too.

  “I’ll leave my underthings on,” he said.

  “Ye willna,” she snapped. “I was a married woman. Ye willna shock me into a faint.” She motioned for him to strip as she moved away to gather blankets to wrap around him. When she saw white underclothes join the pile of his clothes, she handed him a blanket, waiting a few moments before turning to fuss over him. “We’ll wrap this one around ye to get ye nice an’ warm.”

  “Nothin’ but your body heat will work,” Slims said, as he groaned, falling backward onto the pallet. “God, just let me sleep.”

  “Nae!” Davina cried, pouncing on him. “Ye are no’ to sleep. Do ye hear me?”

  “The dead could hear your screeching,” he muttered. He batted at her hands. “Quit pokin’ at me, woman.”

  “I’m pokin’ at ye so ye’ll sit up. Ye need to stay awake. Ye canna sleep, Slims. If ye do, ye may never wake again.”

  He let out a deep breath. “Perhaps that wouldn’t be such a bad thing,” he muttered.

  “Nae,” Davina cried again. “Nae, ye willna die. Ye canna, ye daft man.”

  Opening one eye, he stared at her, as a smile played around his lips. “For a small woman, you are very bossy.” He stared at her a long moment and then smiled fully.

  “An’ why should that amuse ye?” Davina asked, as she snuggled up against him, ignoring his grunts and groans of protest. When she was comfortable, she pulled the last blanket over them, covering them both.

  “I’m not amused,” he said, as he wrapped an arm around her waist. “I feel like a fool, for I should never have doubted you were Sorcha’s cousin.” He made a soothing sound, as she stiffened in his hold. “If I’d seen you acting like this at the ranch, I would never have worried.”

  Davina rested for a long moment with her back to his front, her fingers absently playing with the hairs on his forearm. “Ye worried about me?”

  “I sure as hell did,” Slims slurred, grunting when she elbowed him in his belly to wake up. “Frederick and Miss Sorcha are the closest I have to family. As I’ll ever have.”

  She pressed closer to him as a bout of shivering overcame him. She ran her feet up and down his legs, quivering with the cold that emanated from him. “I thought most men were furnaces,” she muttered.

  He chuckled. “We are when we haven’t spent too long in a blizzard.”

  She yelped when she inadvertently touched his freezing feet. “Oh, yer puir wee feet!” she gasped. “We must warm them.” She ignored him and wriggled around until his feet were wrapped up more securely in the outermost blanket. She soon realized that would be insufficient to warm them. “We should wrap the fur around yer feet for a while.”

  “Can’t you stay still for one minute?” Slims complained, as she elbowed him in his chest and crawled over him, rearranging blankets as she tugged the fur to his feet. She wrapped up his feet, holding the fur over his frozen feet and pressing the wrapped bundle to her chest. He stared at her in wonder, whispering, “Heaven.”

  “What?” she asked, her brown eyes lit with purpose and determination.

  “I’ve died, and I’m in heaven,” he said a moment before he passed out.

  Davina gaped at him, wondering if the wind had played tricks with her hearing. Rather than beat on his leg to wake him up, she watched the steady rise and fall of his chest to reassure herself that he slept due to exhaustion, not due to a near-death experience. Although she was chilled, helping Slims had aided in calming her fears.

  She waited a quarter hour, felt his feet again, and sighed with relief to find they were not nearly as cold. After rewrapping them, she crawled up his body, nestling against him once more as she tucked the blankets around them. With a sigh of contentment, she relaxed further as Slims wrapped an arm around her belly, pulling her close.

  “Sleep, love,” he murmured in her ear.

  She smiled, for once following his command without qualm.

  * * *

  An eerie silence woke him. Slims’s head jerked up, as though a clap of thunder had sounded. Cocking his head to one side, no sound could be heard. The
ferocious winds from the night before had completely calmed, and now the silence was nearly deafening. He blearily stared around the room, his gaze taking in the scattered mass of his clothes tossed in a haphazard mess on the floor. Belatedly he realized he held a warm woman in his arms, and he stilled his motions, eager not to wake her.

  He gazed down at the woman cradled in his arms, marveling that she was here. The last thing he remembered from the previous day was her warming his feet by holding them pressed against her chest. With a groan, he dropped his head back, fighting the image of her caring for him in such a tender way. No one had shown him such regard since he was a young man. Since he had learned the meaning of betrayal. He fought against softening any more toward her, but he knew it was futile. Her actions from the previous day had earned her his loyalty.

  She murmured and stirred, rubbing her face against the blanket resting on his chest. He felt an irrational jealousy for the blanket feeling the softness of her skin, rather than him. He raised one of his large hands to smooth away strands of her hair that had fallen into her eyes.

  “Shh, darlin’, you’re well,” he murmured.

  She sat up with a start, elbowing him in his belly.

  “Oof,” he muttered. “I remember that well.” He watched her with an amused glint in his eyes, the laugh lines around his eyes crinkling as he fought a smile. “Remind me not to anger you in the future.”

  “What am I doin’ here in yer arms?” she gasped, wriggling against him.

  “Hold still, or you will soon have an emergency,” he muttered. When she froze, he chuckled. “I thought you said that you’d been married and that you weren’t easily shocked.”

  “I lied!” she gasped, as her bare foot ran up and down his calf, earning a groan from him.