“Maybe I should call Josselyn and see if she can come over and watch you while I’m gone.”
“Watch me? Like I need a babysitter?”
“Here we go again.” Craig nodded at Caroline’s arms, which were now crossed in front of her.
“What does that mean?” She narrowed her eyes at him. “Has my work schedule been a problem for you in the past?”
“In the past?” He mumbled something else under his breath but she didn’t quite catch it.
“Or currently?” Her bare toes dug into the plush rug under her feet as she prepared to stay rooted to the spot until she got some answers.
“Um...” Craig took a step back.
“Please tell me you’re not one of those old-fashioned macho types who think their women need to be taking care of the farm and raising their babies?”
“I don’t even have a farm.” Craig was now backed up against the arm of the sofa. “It’s a ranch. And no, I don’t have a problem with what you do for a living. You can work wherever and whenever you want. I was just concerned about your injury.”
“Then what did you mean by ‘here we go again’?”
“I meant that when you get determined to do something, you go from a sweet, docile little thing to some sort of broncing—I mean, fierce warrior like that.” He snapped his fingers.
Broncing? Caroline really hoped that the man hadn’t been about to compare her to an angry rodeo animal. They were both pretty worn-out, though, so she decided to give Craig the benefit of the doubt.
“Well, if it’s any consolation, I rarely bring out this so-called ‘fierce warrior’ unless absolutely necessary. At least not with most people.” She tugged her lower lip between her teeth as she studied him. Then she asked, “Do we usually argue a lot?”
“What? No.” One side of his mouth curled downward. “What would we have to argue about?”
“Sorry. Again.” She felt her chest ease back, realizing she hadn’t been aware she’d puffed it out in the first place. “I guess I’m just on edge because I’m pretty exhausted, even though it feels like I’ve been in a deep sleep for the majority of our engagement. Anyway, I was focusing on all the things I can’t remember instead of being grateful for all the stuff that’s clearly in front of me.”
“In front of you?” Craig’s skin seemed to lose some of its tan color.
“You.” She rubbed his biceps in an effort to reassure him, but the physical contact only reminded her of how hard and well-shaped his muscles were under his shirt. She yanked her hand back a bit too quickly. “You’re here in front of me. A wonderful man who was willing to spend the entire night in a miserable chair beside my hospital bed. A man who is willing to risk his proper reputation to spend the night with me at my house in order to nurse me back to health, even though I’m totally healthy, by the way.”
He coughed. “Risking my reputation?”
Really, Craig was quite adorable when his eyebrow dipped into a squiggly line like that. Caroline had to wonder how often she confused the poor guy. Probably all the time if that was the cute face he made whenever she did.
“Thank you for being so good to me.” She rose on her toes and kissed him on his cheek.
Craig didn’t jump away from her in a desperate panic, but he also didn’t return her kiss. He just stood there, stiff as a granite statue, his eyes dark and full of caution.
So far, she got the impression that he was definitely the type of guy who would be overprotective. She hoped his lack of response was because he didn’t want to unleash his passion and accidentally injure her. The alternative would be that he didn’t feel any passion for her at all, and Caroline didn’t want to think about that dismal possibility.
“I’m going to go take a nap,” she finally said, because one of them needed to say or do something. His only reaction was a brief nod.
As she walked to her bedroom, she was too nervous to turn around to look at him. But she listened to him unzip his duffel bag as her head hit the pillow. She fell asleep before she could hear anything else. When she woke up an hour later, she found a note by her bed.
Went to pick up your stuff from your office. Craig.
There was nothing about when he’d be back. Or if he’d even be back at all.
* * *
Craig was trying another key off the same ring Caroline had used to open her front door when his cell phone rang. Still standing in front of her office, he scrambled to pull the vibrating thing out of his back pocket, thinking Caroline had woken up and needed him. But she didn’t have her cell phone, and he hadn’t seen a landline at her house. In fact, she didn’t even have his number. Which might present quite a problem once she realized the man she thought she was going to marry wasn’t listed in any of her contacts.
Looking at the name on the display, Craig sighed before sliding his finger across the screen and answering. “Hey, Rob.”
“Oh, good, you finally found time to answer your phone, big brother.” Rob’s voice always had a teasing edge, but today it was downright buoyant, as though nothing was going to sink his good humor. “Mom wants to know if you’ll be bringing your new lady friend home for Thanksgiving.”
Craig squeezed his eyes shut and counted to three. “What new lady friend?”
“The one our baby sister, Celeste, heard you had in the front seat of your truck about an hour or ago.”
“How could C.C. hear about that already?” Craig asked, using the youngest Clifton’s nickname. “She’s not even home from college yet.”
“Some kid from her vet science class used to babysit for Will’s neighbor, who saw you with the pretty gal that works for that wedding planning outfit over at Sawmill Station. Said you both went into Will and Jordyn’s house and then little bit later, you left together. With your duffel bag.”
That was how things went in a small town. A neighbor told a friend, who told a cousin, who told their former fourth-grade teacher, and before a person could blink, it was on the front page of the Rust Creek Falls Gazette. He knew it was bound to happen. He just hadn’t expected word to get all the way to Thunder Canyon that fast.
Stupid him.
“It’s a long story, but there is absolutely nothing going on between me and Caroline Ruth.” Craig immediately looked around the wooden platform in front of the old-fashioned train depot, hoping none of the Daltons, who owned the land, overheard the blatant lie. Clearly, there was something going on between him and the beautiful woman who, brain injury aside, should’ve known better than to kiss him. Even if it was only on his cheek.
Those sweet lips of hers held a promise of something more. What that was, Craig didn’t want to know. Finding out wouldn’t be fair to either of them, but especially not to Caroline, who looked incredibly innocent and fresh standing in front of him in those pajama pants that were so thin they showed the outline of her rear end. He didn’t even want to start thinking about that sweatshirt that fell off her shoulder, displaying a slinky spaghetti strap against her smooth, creamy skin.
“Caroline Ruth,” Rob repeated, his smug tone latching onto the slightest revelation of new information. “Good thing our grandfather is coming for dinner this year. He eats so slow, you’ll have plenty of time to tell your family all about this so-called ‘long story.’”
“Nothing to tell.”
“Want to know what I think?” Rob asked.
“Actually, no. I don’t really care what you th—”
“I think that there’s plenty to tell about this Caroline Ruth and that’s why you’re trying to keep everything under wraps.”
“Speaking of wraps, have those new posts come in yet for the southeast fence line?” Craig knew the best way to deal with his family was to redirect.
“Dad and I already took care of the fence,” Rob replied, making Craig think that he’d successfully changed the subject. But his brother was like a ma
ngy dog with a bone. “You know we’re all going to find out about her anyway. Might as well come clean.”
“Nothing much to tell.” Craig scratched the scar tissue along his neck, thinking of ways to downplay the recent events that had completely bucked him like a greenhorn with his hand stuck in the bronc rein as he got dragged along for the ride. “Caroline is planning Drew and Josselyn’s wedding. She took a pretty big fall in her office and smacked her head. When she came to, she thought she knew me, and the doctor said it was best not to correct her until she regained her memory.”
“No way!” Rob whooped and Craig had to pull the phone away from his head before he ruptured an eardrum. “Like she’s got amnesia? I didn’t think that kind of thing happened in real life.”
“It’s not exactly amnesia,” Craig started, before deciding it was probably best not to overexplain and get caught up in the details. “Anyway, that’s why I said it was a long story. And I would appreciate it if you didn’t tell anyone else what’s going on. Caroline might not want strangers knowing her personal business.”
“Right. So then how exactly did you get involved in her business?”
Craig sighed, but it came out as more of a growl. “Because her boss is out of town and her family’s in another country and, with the concussion, the doctor didn’t want her to be alone. So I gave her a ride home and I’m keeping an eye on things.”
“Keeping an eye on things, huh?” Rob didn’t bother to cover the mouthpiece on his end as he snorted.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You’re my big brother. I know how you keep an eye on things. Growing up, you watched all of us like a hawk.”
“I’m protective. So what?”
“Protective is an understatement, Craig. Remember the time we went to the county fair and Dad told you to watch us at the mutton busting competition? I was in third grade, but you told the judges I was only six because they made all the kids in that age bracket wear helmets.”
“I’d like to point out that you were small for your age and the following year, they made everyone wear helmets. I was simply ahead of the times.”
“Then,” his brother continued, refusing to cede Craig’s point, “you followed me into the pen and slipped the sheep I was riding a huge chunk of caramel apple. When the announcer blew the horn, instead of sprinting around the arena, the animal just stood there chewing its sticky cud.”
“That sheep was nicknamed Wooly Widowmaker and I probably saved you from a broken arm and a lifetime of embarrassment. So, as much as I’d like to sit around and listen to you grovel out your eternal thanks, Rob, I actually need to get going.”
“Anyway, back to the reason why I called. Are you bringing your new lady friend for Thanksgiving or not?” his brother asked.
“It depends.”
“On what?”
Craig looked at Caroline’s key ring hanging limply in the office door. “On whether she remembers who the hell I am before then.”
Chapter Seven
Caroline drenched the chicken pieces in flour as the oil sizzled in her cast-iron skillet. How could she remember the exact temperature for getting a perfect scorch on her fried chicken, yet not remember whether or not her fiancé even liked her cooking?
Glancing at the digital clock on the stove, Caroline realized that she was stressing about what to feed Craig when she should be worried about the fact that he might not be coming back at all.
No. Of course he would come back. Her gut knew it, even if her head was slow to see all the other signs. He’d sat with her in the hospital all night. If he was going to bail out on her, he would’ve done it long before now.
She’d spent the past hour walking around her house, looking in drawers and pulling out old family photo albums, gaining more comfort and confidence each time she’d come across another detail in her life that she recalled clear as day. If she had her laptop, she would get online and do some research on amnesia and concussions and anything else that could be wrong with her brain.
Not that anything else seemed to be wrong. As far as she could tell, Craig was the only person in her world that she didn’t remember. Sure, it was disconcerting, but it would’ve been downright eerie if she didn’t have that steady sensation that there was definitely something about the man that felt right.
Turning up the volume on the music channel on her television, Caroline sang along with the classic country station, taking further solace in the fact that she still knew all the words to every George Jones, Dolly Parton and Conway Twitty song by heart.
When Tammy Wynette came on and encouraged her to stand by her man, Caroline hiccuped a little giggle. Her mother had once caught her only child listening to that particular song and immediately put on her Helen Reddy CD and had her daughter memorize the lyrics to “I Am Woman” instead.
Caroline really needed to email her parents. She’d video chatted with them on Monday, but they never went more than four or five days without at least a text conversation. They were bound to get worried if they didn’t hear from her soon. Not that Caroline would tell them about being in the hospital. Her dad had a writer’s imagination and she didn’t need him thinking the worst and flying back to the States early just to check on her.
A light knock sounded at the door and she padded out of the kitchen in her pink fuzzy slippers. Looking through the peephole, she felt a charge of excitement surge through her when she saw Craig standing on her porch.
“You didn’t have to knock,” she told him as she yanked the door open so quickly, it bumped against her shoulder. “I left it unlocked for you.”
“I didn’t want to just barge in and scare you, especially if you were still asleep.”
“I’m awake.” She smiled, then felt her lips falter as she realized she was standing there like an eager cocker spaniel, stating the obvious. Caroline stepped aside to let him into the house.
Craig handed her the laptop case and her smartphone with twenty-four missed calls and twice as many text alerts. He sniffed and asked, “Are you cooking something?”
Caroline was still leaning against the open door frame and the chilly air reminded her that she’d taken off her sweatshirt when she’d started working in the kitchen. Craig’s eyes dropped to where her hardened nipples pressed against the soft cotton fabric of her tank top. However, instead of shivering from the cold, Caroline was filled with a rush of warmth from his intense stare.
If it had been any other person standing there, she would’ve clutched the laptop to her chest and blocked his view. But there was something slightly empowering about having this type of effect on her man. Overcome with a boldness she couldn’t explain, Caroline pushed her shoulders back, making her small breasts thrust further out. She saw the muscles in his throat swallow and then she actually did shiver.
“Yes,” she finally said, then spoke louder. “I’m making fried chicken and mashed potatoes. I wasn’t sure what you liked to eat so I hope that’s okay?”
Walking toward the kitchen, she set her laptop down on the dining table along the way. She heard Craig closing the front door and wondered if she should’ve also grabbed her sweatshirt off the back of the sofa and covered up. Even though they were engaged, she was completely alone in her house with the man. A man who looked at her as though she was the most attractive woman in the world and he was just now seeing her for the first time.
Of course that was silly on both accounts—she was by no means beautiful and, obviously, Craig had seen her before. But why did it suddenly feel as though she was now playing with fire?
Trying to ignore all these unfamiliar emotions battling inside her, Caroline flipped the chicken over in her trusty skillet, needing to ground herself in something she understood. Food.
A tingling crept up the back of her neck and she glanced over her shoulder, spotting Craig leaning one of his jean-clad hips against the coun
ter.
“That’s my favorite,” he said, still staring at her, his nostrils slightly flared.
Caroline’s mouth went dry. “What is?”
“Fried chicken.” But his dark blue eyes weren’t focused on the food in the pan. They were studying her and all that lovely heat was spreading through her body again. “You asked if it was okay.”
“Oh.” Caroline forced her own attention back to the stove.
“Do you need any help in here?” he asked.
She allowed her head to turn only slightly in his direction. “You know how to cook?”
“Of course. I’m the oldest of eight kids and I grew up on a ranch. My parents made all of us learn how to do every job around the place from wrestling steers to feeding baby calves to churning homemade butter.”
“When I was a kid, I didn’t even have baby dolls to take care of. I wish I had grown up with siblings. What was that like?”
“Trust me, my brothers and sisters were way more needy and annoying than baby dolls. But once in a while, they would come in handy when we had a lot of chores to do.”
“Are ranches a lot of work?” she asked, wanting to keep the conversation off anything that would make her think about how close he was to her in this tiny kitchen.
“You have no idea.” Craig made a weird huffy sound that came out as a chuckle. It was the same noise her college roommate had made when Caroline enrolled in the same linear algebra class as the serious math major. By the end of the semester, the roommate was coming to Caroline for tutoring.
There were few things in this world that Caroline actually found to be all that challenging once she set her mind to it. So when someone implied that she couldn’t handle something, it only made her want to master that very thing. It didn’t matter if it was ranching, advanced mathematics or mashing some potatoes while a sexy cowboy stood so close, her tummy felt like it was doing flips.
The Maverick's Christmas to Remember Page 6
