“Careful, they’re really hot,” Val warned, passing two to Cord.
He set one behind the girl’s head and neck and slipped the other one at the small of her back. “Hurry up with them blankets, Wyatt!” he called out.
Once they were cocooned in warmth, it would just be a matter of time before she woke up or proved her condition was permanent. There really was no point trying to head to the hospital, nearly an hour’s drive away. The roads were treacherous and there was nothing the personnel there could do that Cord and Val weren’t trained for.
Wyatt came up next and draped the warm quilts over the two of them. Already Cord’s brow beaded with sweat, but he needed to stay put and offer his body as a source of natural warmth.
“You know her name?” asked Val. Val took up residence on the arm of the old sofa again. Wyatt pulled one of the dining room chairs close to the sofa and sat down, leaning over his knees on his elbows.
“No. Didn’t even think to look for a purse or ID. I only focused on getting her out of the car and safe from the storm.” Wyatt sat straighter and exhaled, dragged a heavy hand through his hair. “You think she’ll be all right?”
“Can’t tell yet. Prayers wouldn’t be a bad idea, though.” Cord became lulled by the soft, rhythmic sound of her breathing.
The room was so dim with the windows boarded up and only a stormy night on the other side. Firelight flickered, creating random shadows along the walls. Crackling and snapping of burning wood comforted Cord, and the familiar smell filled his lungs. Even in the short time this stranger had been in the house, he felt more focused, more needed than he had in years. It would feel good to have a woman of his own to care for, to love. But it was all a fantasy created in his mind, loneliness playing tricks on him. This girl could be anything but sweet, married, or more trouble than he could handle. It was hard not to create endless scenarios with her soft little body pressed tight against his.
Chapter Five
Her thoughts drifted in and out of reality and a dreamlike state. Samantha tried to piece together the fractured memories swirling in her head. It hurt to think. Her head pounding like a sledge hammer worked against her skull. But she had to think. The car was trapped. She was so cold. She had shivered uncontrollably as her vision went blurry. Her mind became a jumble of irrelevant thoughts. That was all she could recall.
She wriggled her toes. Warmth. Samantha was shrouded in so much warmth, like a loving caress she never wanted to end. She thought she’d never know what it felt like to be warm and comfortable again. Was this heaven or hell? She couldn’t remember being rescued, so maybe it was all a bizarre dream, her body’s attempt to transport her to a happier place in her final hour.
“Open your eyes, darlin’.” A male voice echoed in her mind.
She recognized the soothing baritone from her dreams. She wanted to respond, to comply, but her body was so sluggish, like wading through molasses.
“Look! She moved her toes.” Another voice. My savior.
Yes, now she could remember bits and pieces. When all was lost, his voice had cut through the darkness, and he had lifted her as if she weighed nothing more than a loaf of bread. Then she had blacked out again.
There were hands on her now, rubbing her skin, brushing her hair. It felt good, brought her dormant body to life. Every minute that passed brought reality to the forefront of her mind. She must be in a hospital. Samantha finally managed to crack open one eye, the natural light blinding her.
“That’s a girl.” Someone shifted her body into a sitting position, which made her so dizzy she thought she might be sick. She knew the noise she heard was her own groan, but she barely recognized the sound of her voice. “Get a bucket, Val.”
The man was right. She vomited a minute later, her stomach heaving in deep, guttural waves. Someone held her hair from her face and rubbed her back during the ordeal. Samantha was too sick to care what she looked like or who watched, but probably would once she returned to her old self.
A warm, moist cloth brushed over her mouth after she'd been sick. It was like being a child again, taken care of by her two sisters when she had the stomach flu. Going so many years on her own, it was nice to have someone else take care of her for once. But who exactly? She felt better with her stomach empty. Her headache was no longer as pounding, but still distracting.
“My head,” she managed to mutter.
“That’s normal, sweetheart. After your stomach rests a bit, we’ll get some hot broth into you, along with some pain killers.” The man then shouted, “Val, warm up the chicken soup.”
“Where am I?” She tried to concentrate on her breathing and talking at the same time. Thankfully the urge to be sick wasn’t returning, but she was so weak.
“You’re safe on our ranch. Wyatt found your car on the side of the road in the storm.”
Right. Oh shit! “The car. Is the car okay? It’s a rental.”
“Don’t be worrying about the car. You need to worry about yourself right now.”
Of course, the man was right. She needed to get better, to feel well enough to get up and deal with her avalanche of problems. Being far from home, responsible for a rental car that could be in any shape, and with no money to her name had her chest tightening from worry.
She opened both eyes, forcing herself to get with the program. With a deep inhale of warm air, scented like sweet, burning wood, she focused on the man in front of her. He seemed to freeze on the spot once she looked up at him. She thought her mind was playing tricks on her because the man was tall, built like a brick house, wearing jeans and nothing else.
“Mornin’. My name’s Wyatt.” He knelt down in front of her, his shoulders so broad and toned. “Tell me your name, darlin’.”
“Samantha Brown.”
“Samantha. That’s a pretty name, and you have the sweetest voice.”
She felt her cheeks blush and turned to the man speaking beside her. He was tucked tight to her side, his arm around her waist. When she glanced down, she saw he only wore fitted boxers, and she was in her skimpies. She hadn’t even noticed him.
“Where’re my clothes?” She clutched the blanket around her shoulders closed, anxiety creeping up on her. This place was completely foreign, and it appeared she was alone with two strange men…Make that three. A third man walked into the room. At least he had clothes on, jeans and plaid. He was just as tall as Wyatt, with bright blue eyes and a mop of dirty-blond hair like the man beside her. She had just entered Alberta when she pulled to the side of the road, so these guys must be cowboys. Real live cowboys.
“You were in rough shape when Wyatt brought you to us. We had to warm you up. But don’t you worry, there was no funny business.”
She looked to the man beside her and back to the new guy. “You’re twins?”
He smiled, a wide smile with healthy white teeth. “That’s right. I’m Cord and he’s Val. I’m two minutes older, by the way.”
“You have to bring that up?” Val teased, coming closer.
She felt so surrounded. There may not have been any funny business, but damn, these guys were hotter than hot. She’d never seen bodies so ripped and tempting apart from movies and magazines.
“You’ll feel right as rain before you know it. We’ve defrosted you, so to speak, and now you need to build up your strength. The soup will help with that.” Cord didn’t move away from her side, even now that she had regained her faculties, but his nearness didn’t bother her as it should have. In fact, it felt nice—his heat, the firmness of his skin, and masculine aura. The static of a walkie-talkie went off, garbled voices speaking into the air. “No doubt there’ll be trouble. We best get suited up, Val.”
Cord stood, leaving her alone on the sofa. She missed his heat already. “Get your naked self decent, boy.” Wyatt swatted the other man for wearing just his boxers. Samantha couldn’t help but watch Cord go, his ass hard and round, his back broad, tapering down into a narrow waist. Once he disappeared up the stairs, she looked arou
nd the room. The place wasn’t modern and looked preserved from a time past. The furniture and décor were dated, as if an elderly couple occupied the house, not three strapping young cowboys.
“What’s going on?” she asked.
Wyatt crouched in front of her. “My brothers volunteer for the fire department. They live here alone when I’m not home, so it only makes sense for them to help in the community. There’ll be plenty of trouble now that the storm has passed on. There’s still no power, and many of the townsfolk around here are elderly.” All three of them brothers? They were all sturdy and ruggedly handsome, although the twins had lighter hair than their brother. “Don’t worry though. I’m sure you’re on the mend or they wouldn’t be leaving.”
Volunteer firemen? That was such a selfless thing to do, just like helping bring a stranger back to health. She didn’t even know them but already judged them as good, honest men.
“They shouldn’t be worried about me.” There could be more people like her, stranded in the cold, or worse.
“We’re all worried about you. But I’ll be here until they get back. Do you think you could handle some soup? It’s chock-full of good things. It’d do you a world of good.”
“I’ll try. Thank you.”
He stared at her as if he’d never seen a woman before. She was fully covered by the quilt and could only imagine how hideous she looked after what she went through, but he watched her with adoration. Samantha was no stranger to flirting and the leers of men from working as a waitress and traveling public transit on a daily basis. Wyatt didn’t look at her like that. There was something wholesome about the way his blue eyes assessed her with unblinking focus. He didn’t appear to be lacking in the eligible bachelor department either. Any woman would give her right leg to hook up with such a hardcore cowboy. Even now, she had to remind herself that this was reality, not a fantasy from one of her romance novels. He was that good-looking.
Wyatt patted her knee before standing. She could hear him rummaging about in the kitchen when the twins came down the wooden stairs dressed in full emergency gear. A man in uniform had always done crazy things to her body. But these two were just, wow. Tall, broad, with flat stomachs, and fuck-me blue eyes. She wished they had met under different circumstances. But she’d just puked her brains out in front of them and had been unconscious under their critical scrutinizing for God knew how long. Besides, these were obviously old-school cowboys used to pretty, blonde buckle bunnies with mountains of cleavage. Who was she? A penny-broke waitress from the city with nothing substantial to offer.
They both stopped dead at the bottom of the stairs, side by side, reflections of each other. Their T-shirts were dark blue with the department insignia in the upper right corner over hard pecs. Their shirts tucked into fitted pants that had orange reflective stripes on the sides. Heavy black boots and orange, waterproof jackets completed their look. She couldn’t tell them apart yet. One held his helmet and visor, while the other had it resting on his head, unbuckled. Was that hunger in their eyes?
She even glanced down at herself, wondering what on earth they could find appealing about her disheveled state. But there was no denying that gleam in their eyes. It spoke volumes, told her about the naughty things they’d love to do to her…together.
Never in her life had she thought about getting it on with more than one man. It just wasn’t her cup of tea. However, imagining both of these men claiming her body in a passionate, primitive dance made her body tremble, and not from being cold. The cold was only an unforgiving memory, one she wouldn’t soon forget. But right now her body was heating from the inside out.
“Cord, should I strain this?” Wyatt’s voice drifted out from the kitchen, pulling the twins out of their trance.
“Yeah. We don’t want anything heavy on her stomach. Everything good is in the broth anyway,” Cord said as he joined the other man in the kitchen.
Val approached her, sitting on the cushion beside her. His jacket creaked as he sat. He smelled of musky cologne and all male. “We’ll be back as soon as we can, okay, darlin’? You should try and take a warm shower now that you’re awake, and make sure to drink your soup.”
She only nodded, partially in shock from his thoughtfulness. Samantha wasn’t used to anyone doting on her. Nobody she knew at work gave a shit if she lived or died. The new attention washed through her like a drug, making her willing to do anything these men told her.
“That’s a girl.” He leaned over and kissed her forehead. She’d never had a father figure in her life, and male tenderness was something new to her. When he pulled back, he had a gentle smile on his face, and he tucked some wayward curls behind her ear. “We’re gonna take good care of you.”
Chapter Six
The next morning Cord checked in on their guest. They’d given her the guest room upstairs, which used to be their parents’ bedroom. It felt strange walking into the room they'd kept locked and sealed for so many years. In many ways, Val was right. They lived in a mausoleum, too afraid to change anything in the house. It would betray precious memories to move on with life, to change rather than preserve.
But living in the past only guaranteed them a loveless future, void of new memories. As much as he wanted to start fresh, embrace life and all its opportunities, a part of him couldn’t let go.
Having Samantha in the house was a welcome change, something different to focus on than the monotony of daily life. They’d been called out for service again, but he had to check on the cute little brunette before he left for the day. He sat on the edge of the bed, trying not to disturb her as he took her vitals. She was warm and her pulse strong. After they built up her energy with more of their homemade soups, she’d be well on the road to recovery.
His fingertips were pressed to the pulse at her neck when her eyes flitted open.
“Sorry to wake you, sweet thing. Just wanted to check in on you before I left with Val.”
“It’s okay.” She sat up in the bed, but quickly lowered herself back to the pillow. “I feel lightheaded. Is that normal?”
“Very normal.” He leaned over and kissed her forehead, only realizing what he’d done after the fact. "You just need a good long rest to fully recover. We’ll make sure you get it.”
She wasn’t like one of his usual patients. There was something about her, a sweet innocence that pulled him in.
“I don’t even have my e-reader. I’ll be bored to tears if I have to be in bed much longer.”
He smiled at her. He couldn’t help himself. The girl was too cute with her wild curls and big doe eyes. He had no clue what an e-reader was, but if he had one he'd give it to her in a heartbeat. “I'll keep you entertained, but you have to promise to stay in bed. I don’t want you getting worse on me while I'm off to work.”
“You're leaving?” He easily interpreted the disappointment in her voice. It felt good to be wanted, needed.
“Soon. Want to play a game of cards before I have to head out?”
“Okay. What do you know how to play?”
He opened the nightstand drawer where he knew a deck of cards was stored. Nothing changed on the Carson ranch. As he shuffled the deck Samantha shifted higher up on the pillow. “Let’s start simple. Go Fish?”
She agreed on the game and he doled out the cards. With each hand, they made eye contact, laughed, and brushed fingers reaching for cards. Samantha aroused new emotions in Cord. She wasn’t like a hardcore cowgirl, cheap thrill, or sisterly-type. He had a feeling she was the real deal, the type of woman he could actually settle down with and not regret the choice. But hooking up with a woman meant change he wasn't sure he was capable of.
“Are you cheating?” She narrowed her eyes at him, holding her cards to her chest.
“What?”
“I know you have a five, but you said ‘go fish.’”
“Don’t know what you’re talkin’ about darlin’.”
She continued to eye him skeptically until she finally sat her hand face-down on the sid
e table. “Let me see...”
“You can't look at the other player's cards.” He held his hand out of reach.
She shifted in the bed until sitting on her knees. Samantha reached over his lap, attempting to grab the cards he held. He couldn’t help but laugh. It felt good to laugh. Sure, he had the five she needed, but it was fun toying with her when she took the game so seriously. His brothers always pulled fast moves when they’d play together.
“Cord!” She climbed over his lap, fighting to see his cards which he held in an outstretched hand. Her dizziness must have passed because she was quite determined, a new spunk making its emergence. The feel of her weight on his lap, her soft body pressed against his had his cock hardening, and he hoped she didn’t feel it.
“Ah, ah, ah.” He grabbed one of her wrists and play wrestled her to her back. She was out of breath from struggling, but even more so when he started tickling her sides. God, she was beautiful. His.
“Stop…Stop!” She giggled and warned him between breaths, seeming to forget about the cards altogether. When he let her be, not wanting her too winded in her condition, she lay still on the bed. Only the sound of her heavy breathing accompanied the intimate closeness, the gentle weight of his upper body over hers, and the way she stared into his eyes. He wanted more than anything to kiss her, to feel those soft, full lips against his, but held back. Before he closed the door to the room, he whispered tauntingly, “I did have the five.”
* * * *
At lunch hour, Wyatt strained a fresh batch of chicken soup through a metal colander. It smelled hearty—potatoes, green beans, farm-raised beef—and got his stomach rumbling. Although he didn’t care for fast food, it was something he’d become accustomed to, and he rarely enjoyed a good home-cooked meal. Sometimes other ranchers would invite him to dinner with their families, or he’d barbeque up some beef with fellow riders at the side of the road on portable grills. Being home was nice.
Espino, Stacey - Hardcore Cowboys [Ride 'em Hard 1] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) Page 4
