Red Dress considered. "I nanny for his son."
"Aha." Someone deserved happiness for Christmas. Why not Red Dress? "Maybe he wanted to broach the idea without you knowing it was him, to feel things out. Then if you said no, it wasn't an outright rejection."
"I don't know," Red Dress said slowly. "I mean, he did ask me if I was dating anyone. But then he told me about this friend of his. Who was shy." She paused. "He's a widower," she said softly.
It sounded just like a made-for-TV movie.
"So, there you go," Delaney said. "Maybe he was uncomfortable just coming right out and asking you out. There's only one way to find out. Ask him outright."
She saw the skepticism cross Red Dress's face. "I should go home," she said. "I'm pretty sure my makeup is ruined."
"Oh, I can fix that."
Delaney pulled her reluctant new friend into the bathroom.
She rummaged in her purse. "Here we go." She handed Red Dress a packet of makeup wipes. "Those babies will take anything off."
The other woman hesitated before taking them. "I don't even know your name."
"I'm Delaney." She smiled.
"I'm Amber. Nice to meet you."
Amber leaned over the counter as she used the makeup wipe beneath her eyes. She sighed and began scrubbing at her entire face.
"Our skin tones aren't a match, but I think I can fix your eye makeup," Delaney offered.
"I think I'll just go like this. I've taken up too much of your night. You're missing the party."
Delaney grimaced. "Yeah..." Now it was her turn to sigh. "I'm not exactly on the guest list."
The idiocy of her actions hit her all over again.
She'd never have known what it felt like to be held by Cash if she hadn't shown up tonight.
And wouldn't have known what it felt like to miss it.
"And not being on the guest list is why I'm having man troubles."
Amber shook her head, confusion on her expression.
But Delaney just gave her a gentle push toward the door. "Don't worry about me. You go get your guy." At least someone could have a Christmas romance.
Delaney almost made it out.
She hadn’t found her ring. It was past time to give up. She’d phone Mallory after the holiday and ask if she could come back and search the house. Tonight was a loss.
She'd skirted the ballroom without running into Cash and had almost reached the front entrance and the foyer where the coat check had been set up.
And then a hand clamped down on her wrist.
"Wh—"
She barely had a chance to look back before the predatory guy from earlier gave her a none-too-gentle nudge in the back. She stumbled in the heels, but he used the momentum she'd already built up to push her into a shadowed hallway.
"Let go of me," she cried out.
She'd only had a glimpse of the ugly gleam in his eyes, but it was enough. She didn't care if she made a scene.
She didn't want whatever ugly thing he was thinking.
He pushed her against the wall, still holding her wrist and now twisting it painfully. "You thought you'd be rid of me that easily? Maybe no one else recognized you all dolled up like that, but I know exactly who you are. We both know you don’t belong here."
The words were spoken too close to her face. His hot breath stunk of alcohol, and she saw the slightly wild look in his eyes. She did recognize him. Had seen him once when she’d cleaned for his parents. He’d been scruffy and unshaven and dressed like the loser son he apparently was.
And she knew he never would’ve dared touch her if she’d been one of the high-society women.
You don’t belong here.
"Where's your pretty boy rancher to rescue you now?" he taunted her.
"Help!" she cried out. Surely the coat-check attendant could hear. They weren't that far down the hall.
And then his hot, sweaty hand came up to press over her mouth, his wrist pushing her jaw. With his bigger body pressing her into the wall, there was no space, nowhere to go.
She struggled anyway, fighting against his hold. She screamed with his hand over her lower face until her throat and lungs burned. If she could just get one hand loose—
She couldn't breathe—
And then he was gone. He spun away—no, he'd been thrown off of her.
By Cash, who knocked her attacker against the opposite wall. The man’s shoulder and head hit with a satisfying thud.
She gasped in a breath, then another. Her windpipe felt as if it were on fire.
"Andy!" Cash roared over his shoulder, and another cowboy in a suit and dress boots rushed from the party.
Delaney felt raw, laid bare. She turned her back, not wanting to be seen, now that her attacker's hands were off of her. She straightened her dress, thankful that the skinny spaghetti straps had held. Adrenaline rushed through her pounding bloodstream. She had to close her eyes against relieved tears—or maybe they were an after-effect of the fear that had nearly immobilized her.
What if Cash hadn't come?
Over the roaring in her ears she heard him speaking, presumably to his friend Andy. "Get this"—expletive—"out of here. I know you're off duty, but if I have to wait on the sheriff—" His voice got lower or maybe her breaths got louder as she tried to contain the sobs that wanted so badly to escape.
I'm okay. I'm okay.
But she couldn't seem to push away from where she leaned against the wall. It was holding her upright. It was a very polite wall.
"Delaney." He was right there behind her, his voice incredibly soft. "Honey, I'm scared to touch you."
She couldn't catch her breath to tell him to shove off. Or to tell him she was okay.
Her emotions were a rioting mess. She didn't want his touch. Did she?
There was a rustle of clothing behind her, and then, "I'm just going to wrap my jacket around your shoulders. Delaney?"
Somewhere, she found the strength to nod.
Warmth stole through her as his man-sized tuxedo jacket slipped over her shoulders. She didn't feel the press of his hands.
His jacket was warm from his body and smelled like him. And she desperately needed to erase the memory of the hot stink of alcohol, so she breathed in deeply.
Just taking the one breath calmed her. A smidgen, but she'd take it.
So she did it again, burying her nose in his lapel.
"Do you need a doctor?"
She shook her head in reply to his soft question. She didn't want anyone else to see her like this, broken and raw.
"Can you turn around at least, so I can see for myself? Please?"
Earlier, she'd imagined his please, imagined him begging for a kiss.
This please, delivered in a voice so raw and hurt that it made more tears sting her eyes... this please, she couldn't deny.
She turned to face him, lifting her chin. Except, she couldn't contain its wobble.
His eyes... he looked as if he were burning up from the inside out. He scanned her face, down her body. Her wrist ached where the attacker had yanked and wrenched it. But she didn't think she'd have other bruises. Except the one on her soul.
"Do you need a doctor?" he asked again.
"I'm—" fine. She couldn't get the word out. Her face crumpled, and to her consternation, she reached for him.
He pulled her in tight, his ranch-strong arms coming tightly around her. Hers went around his waist, and she pressed her face to his chest.
Right now, she didn't care if he knew her identity. She just needed to be held.
And hold her he did. She hadn't felt protected, cherished like this since Jonah.
Some of the tension that had faded in Cash's embrace returned. What was she thinking?
She backed away, and he quickly let her go.
Cash didn't think of her the way Jonah had. This afternoon, he'd treated her like pond scum.
Her emotions were all over the place. That was the only explanation for caving in to his embrace.
&nb
sp; "I need to go home."
Cash's expression filled with concern. "You should probably sit down for a minute. I think the sheriff's office is going to want to talk to you."
"No. No—I don't want to press charges." Her attacker was well-connected. She wasn't. If word got around, she could lose more jobs. With no income, what would she and Evan do?
Cash's eyes were dark. "If you don't, I will. He came into my house and assaulted one of my guests."
Except she wasn't a guest. Not really.
"I think he'd had too much to drink. That's all." Her eyes skipped over his shoulder as she said the words. Yes, the man had smelled like alcohol, but she'd recognized the predatory look in his eyes the moment she'd run into him in the ballroom.
Cash crossed his arms over his broad chest. Without his jacket on, the white shirt he wore stretched over miles of muscles. "Somebody acts that way in a crowded party, no telling what they'll do in a dark parking lot. He'll face this, whether it's you or me who makes it happen."
And to heck with what you want.
That message came through loud and clear. Cash would get his way, even if he had to bulldoze over her.
But where earlier she might've fired back at him, argued, she was too raw and broken to form a single word.
And his macho-man act was just a reminder of who he really was. And how different they were.
She slipped his jacket off her shoulders, shivering a little at the rush of cooler air against her bare skin.
"Thanks," she whispered.
She skirted around him.
Cash did his best to curb the caveman roaring inside him. Mine.
Some jerk had touched Delaney. Hurt her.
Dude was lucky Cash hadn't bashed his face in.
He'd wanted to.
He hoped Andy had knocked his head on the frame of his squad car.
All the adrenaline rushing through Cash's system wasn't helping him here.
Delaney was walking away, heading for the foyer and the coat check.
He'd said something wrong. Watched as her walls had come up, her lashes had flicked down and hidden her eyes from him.
She didn't want to report an assault like that? A few minutes later and who knew what the jerk would've done to her? Who knew what he might do to the next woman?
And Cash didn't think she was refusing in order to protect the guy.
Somehow, she was trying to protect herself.
"Wait," he said. "Please."
But she barely glanced over her shoulder. Her heels now clicked against the tile in the fancy foyer his great-grandparents had built.
She said something to the coat check guy, handed him a ticket and a folded bill.
He should let her go. She was shaken up, but he didn't see any visible injuries. If she said she was okay, he had to believe her, right?
Everything inside him screamed don't let her go.
He'd once asked Dad when he'd known Mama was the one for him. And Dad had smiled this secret smile and said "you'll know." Cash had been angry, thought Dad was just putting him off.
But what he was feeling tonight was real. He just knew.
That he didn't want Delaney to walk out of here. Not like this.
Maybe not ever.
Coat Check Guy had ducked into the rows of coat racks on their rented stands. This might be Cash's only chance.
"Delaney..."
She looked over her shoulder at him. Her eyes were hooded.
He hated putting himself out there. He never took the risky bet. But he also hated the thought of her walking out. "I think we've got something going here, don't you?"
Those moments when she'd been in his arms for their dance had been incredible. Every second was burned into his brain, a sparkling memory for all time.
But when she'd been in his arms just now... something had happened to him. Connected them.
Disbelief crossed her face. She turned to face him directly.
He experienced a moment of doubt at her expression. No. What was between them was real, even if she couldn't admit it yet.
"I'll drive you home," he blurted. That would give him at least another twenty minutes to press his case. The Double Cross was a good ten minutes out of town. With the snow on the road, he'd have to drive slowly and carefully.
"No."
Her refusal rocked him back. He shook his head, felt muzzy as if he'd been punched.
"C'mon. You can't deny there's something between us."
Her disbelief transformed into something more. She stepped toward him, her eyes now snapping with ice. "You don't even know who I am." She laughed a little, but there was nothing funny about it.
She'd been shocked at him earlier. It was clear she was still mad about it.
"So tell me," he said. Because whatever she had to say, he could fix it, if only he knew. "Who are you?"
"I'm the maid you fired earlier today."
Her words didn't make sense to him. The maid...?
And then the ugly truth hit him in the face like a two-by-four.
He scanned her up and down. Gone was the woman in slim jeans and a way-too-baggy polo shirt. Gone was the loose ponytail, gone were the shaggy bangs.
In her place was an elegant woman in a hot dress and heels whose hair was mussed from her ordeal.
How come he hadn't seen it before?
Shame rushed over him. Had he even looked her in the face earlier? He’d been so caught up in trying to fix the mistake he’d made, he hadn’t paid close attention to the woman in his way.
"I didn't fire you," he said. Lame. So sue him, he was still reeling.
Her lips parted in extreme skepticism.
Before he could wrap his brain around what she'd said, Coat Check Dude was there, holding out a worn black peacoat. Perfect timing, Dude.
She slid one arm into the coat, but Cash wasn't done. Not by a long shot.
"So what was tonight, then? Did you come here to humiliate me?"
A shadow of guilt chased across her face, but her lips firmed. She definitely wasn't smiling at him. "I lost my wedding ring today. The Double Cross was the only place I've been, so it has to be somewhere in the rooms I cleaned today."
Wedding ring. The hits just kept coming. She was married?
He couldn't breathe as she went on.
"I thought I could sneak through the party without anyone noticing, find the ring, and go home. Believe me, I didn't want to run into you."
The way she said the word left no uncertainty about her feelings toward him.
"Did you find it?" he asked hoarsely.
She tied off her belt, not looking at him. Shook her head.
When she looked up, the ice queen from their first—no, second meeting—was back. "If you or Mallory finds it, I'd appreciate a call. I'll come get it." She gritted her teeth as she admitted, "It's important to me."
Of course it was.
She didn't wait for an answer, just turned and walked out the front door, leaving him with a blast of cold in his face and feeling like a fool.
He was an idiot.
Chapter 4
Cash stood in Dad's office. Except it wasn't Dad's, not anymore. Now it was just the office.
From here, he could see the last of the party guests' taillights tracking down the quarter-mile drive to the state road.
The party had wound down quickly after Delaney's departure. The snowstorm had worsened, and folks had been in a hurry to get home.
Mallory had been nowhere to be found. Neither had his buddy Maverick. Cash wasn't worried. Mallory'd been concerned over a horse earlier in the evening. She'd probably dragged Mav down to the barn—or his best friend had dragged himself. The man had a hero complex where Mallory was concerned.
Cash stared at the small, potted Christmas tree that Mallory had stuck on the edge of the desk.
I'm the maid you fired.
He couldn't get Delaney out of his head.
He let his eyes roam the room, let himself go back to earlier in
his memories.
He hadn't fired her. Not really. He'd told her to get out. That wasn't the same thing.
He'd threatened her, though. Been rude. Annoyed that she'd been in his way when he'd lost ten grand in one of the accounting ledgers. Frustrated at the interruption, then at his papers being spilled across the floor. It would take that much longer to put them back in order.
He'd been a jerk. The only reason he hadn't recognized her tonight was because he hadn't looked her in the face earlier.
He could make all the excuses he wanted: he was busy, she shouldn't have interrupted him... but the reality was there.
He hadn't treated her with basic courtesy.
Mama would've tanned his hide.
Dad would've never been in this position. It didn't matter who they were, school janitor, the lowest paid guy at the sale barn... Dad took the time to really talk to everyone he came in contact with. He knew their name and their life story. Dad wouldn’t have lost the ten K, either.
Cash had never been able to live up to his old man's legacy.
And it had never bothered him. Not really.
Until now.
His eyes lingered on the last, most recent picture of his parents before they'd died. Dad and Mom had taken a trip to Cancun together that fall. They posed on the beach, arms around each other.
He'd been invited on the trip but had been deep in a coding project and unable to get away from work. At least that's what he'd told himself. He wished he'd taken the time off, gone on the trip. Why hadn't Mallory gone?
They'd been too wrapped up in their lives, hadn't known just how short time was.
He still regretted it.
Emotion surged, and he turned to the desk, swept the stupid pile of folders and papers off the surface. His action sent the papers flying in an arc, then floating crazily to the floor.
Panting, he stood above the mess. Considered sending the little Christmas tree to follow. Or giving the desk a kick.
But he did neither of those things. Instead, he sank to the floor. Putting his back to the sturdy wooden desk, he hung his head, put his hands over his burning face.
He missed his parents. He needed them.
And they were never coming back.
Dad would've told him to get off his butt and make things right with Delaney. No matter how much humble pie he needed to eat. He owed her an apology. Maybe two, if his behavior tonight had made her uncomfortable. In his mind's eye, he could still see her, scared and trembling, after he'd pulled off her attacker. That hadn't been Cash's fault, but he'd made no effort to hide his attraction to her. If he'd made her feel one-one thousandth of the same fear that idiot had, he owed it to her to say he was sorry.
The Rancher’s Unexpected Gift: Snowbound in Sawyer Creek Page 3
