Chelsea was curled up in one of the big chairs by the fire with Tessa on her lap. The girl was fading, but not out yet and Chelsea felt completely content working through the thousandth iteration of Carl’s Snowy Afternoon picture book.
Mark’s parents were relaxing comfortably in side-by-side armchairs. It was easy to see where Mark had gotten his good looks. His father had passed on his physique and kindly eyes. His mother Ama was half Cheyenne and had passed on dark skin and hair to her son. The three of them together were stunning.
Mark sat on an oak-trimmed leather couch and Emily was curled up against him with a woven throw of geometric tans and dark reds across her legs. She looked as sleepy as their daughter while the others talked about the ranch, and fires that MHA had flown to this season. Tessa had her father’s gray eyes and her mother’s fine features and blond beauty. When Tessa was grown, the three of them would make an equally stunning trio.
It was so unusual to see Emily relaxed, that it made Chelsea content to remain as long as she could in the room. Emily, the successful senior helicopter pilot of Mount Hood Aviation, the woman always in absolute control of any situation, lying against her husband like…well, like a woman in love. It was surprising and wonderful. Yet another thing that Chelsea put into her Someday List. Lie before a warm fire with her arms wrapped around a man she loved.
No. Scratch that. With the man she loved. She still had plenty of time to find him; she hoped. Mr. Wonderfuls weren’t exactly hanging about for the picking, but it was a nice image.
It wasn’t hard to picture what the man would look like in her fire-warmed daydream. He’d have casually long rough-cut hair, worn-leather brown just like—
There was a soft jolt in her lap. She looked down to see that Tessa had landed face first and fast asleep with her nose on Carl’s finished snowman.
Chelsea slipped from the room with her and decided that it was time to put both Tessa and herself to bed before she became any more ridiculous.
Still, it was a nice image as she curled up in a guest room with Tessa on a low trundle bed beside her.
Doug Daniels was a very nice image.
6
“Can’t sleep all day, c’mon.”
Doug went for brash to cover his initial reaction to seeing a sleep-tousled Chelsea hunched at the breakfast table. He’d come in to refill his coffee and check up on her as Emily had asked. It looked as if he’d surprised the sleeping lion in her den.
Wrong image. Chelsea didn’t strike him as dangerous, just enthusiastic. Like an Irish Setter. The dark red hair color wasn’t a bad match. Except at the moment she looked like she’d been run over by warm bed and a soft pillow, and would still be a while recovering. Or like he’d want to sweep her right back into—
Cut it out, Daniels. But he’d lost a lot of sleep over her last night and her current state wasn’t helping matters.
Chelsea was clutching a mug of hot chocolate like a lifeline. She wore a gold-colored turtleneck that proved the sweater hadn’t lied last night. It revealed strength aplenty to carry a hiking pack and curves to…
He sighed at his libido’s nudge-nudge, wink-wink.
“Where’s Tessa?” she looked up at him through a screen of unkempt hair that she didn’t bother to brush aside. The ten-foot distance from the coffee pot to where he could brush it aside himself was a good thing.
“They all went into town; took her with.”
“I should wait for them.”
“They won’t be back until dinnertime.”
She squinted up at him again. “Where the heck is town from here?”
“Highfalls is only thirty miles out, but there’s not much there unless you fancy a good steak. They’re headed into Great Falls which is eighty each way.”
“You sure?”
“There’s a note from Emily by your elbow.”
She twisted her head to read it without relaxing the death grip on her mug. The long line of her neck was…something he shouldn’t be thinking about. Mark and Emily might not be his bosses, but this was their guest. And thinking hot thoughts about Tessa’s nanny was wrong in so many ways, not the least of it being that they’d be gone soon. Christmas was just the day after tomorrow; they’d be gone the next day.
“You eaten yet?”
She nodded.
It took him a moment to spot the pan and dish, already washed and perched in the drying rack. Neat and respectful too.
“Good. Dress warmly. I’ll meet you at the hangar in five minutes. I need to go up.”
“Or I could just kill you and go back to my cozy bed.”
“You’d do that to younger brother?” he asked in horror.
“Absolutely,” but he could hear the grin in her voice even if he couldn’t see it clearly through her shield of hair.
“You’ll miss a beautiful helicopter ride.”
“You know how to fly one?” She was quick enough to take in that he must be the pilot and turn it around into a tease.
He didn’t even condescend to answer as he headed for the back door. “Four and a half minutes.”
7
Chelsea made it in four and had spent three of that whipping up some instant hot chocolate in a pair of steel travel mugs.
“For me? Thanks.”
When he reached for one, she pulled it away. “Mine. Two-fisted drinker.”
It earned her that good laugh of his and she handed one over.
Doug had a pretty little Bell JetRanger pulled out of the hangar and was going over it carefully. Chelsea was taken aback for a moment. Two months ago she knew helicopters were the ones with their propellers on top instead of pointing to the front; now she recognized a JetRanger on sight. Furthermore, she thought of it as small compared to the massive Firehawk helicopter that Emily flew for MHA. When had that happened to her?
The pilot-plus-four-passenger craft was clean, but well worn. It looked well-maintained but hard used.
“I’ve never flown in a helicopter.”
Doug looked at her aghast. “You work for two of the best helicopter pilots the Army has ever produced and you haven’t been up in one?”
“I—” Chelsea hadn’t known that about them. But rather than look foolish for the lack of knowledge, she just shrugged. “My job is to take care of Tessa. Mark is the Incident Commander Air”—she hadn’t even known he could fly a helicopter—“so I fly with him and Tessa in the ICA plane.”
“A helicopter virgin. Well, you’re in for a thrill, honey.”
“Watch it, bhaai!”
Again the merry laugh as he escorted her into the left-hand seat and made sure she was buckled in.
The ride was a real joy. The cabin heater kept the chill air at bay as they roared aloft. Headsets with boom mics made it easy to hear him as he pointed out the features of the ranch.
He let her look her fill, but she didn’t know if she’d ever get enough. The green prairie stretched smoothly to the hills. The mountains broke from the grassland as if someone had drawn a line on the ground and said, “start them here.” It was an abrupt and visceral shock. Only as they flew closer did the illusion start to break; secluded valleys intruded deep into the hills with small rivers sliding between sheer headlands.
“I love this land,” Doug whispered softly after she’d finally managed to voice her awe at the rugged beauty. “It can be a hard land, but I never tire of looking at it.”
“I wouldn’t either,” she said with a sincerity as if she was making a promise.
“Now who’s being forward?”
She hadn’t meant to be. Then she realized that she hadn’t been. It was just Doug Daniel’s mind twisting in…she sighed…much the way hers had been.
But the ranch was one of those places that simply felt right. Chelsea would start helicopter lessons tomorrow if it meant she could fly here. Doug flew with such an eas
y confidence.
“You’ve been flying for a long time,” she finally turned her attention to the fine scenery inside the cabin.
“Navy. Did three tours, six years. That was enough for me and then some. A SEAL buddy hooked me up with Mac.”
“A SEAL buddy? Like the diver guys?”
“Sure, Mac was one too,” Doug shrugged easily. No wonder he flew with such ease and confidence. Except he didn’t look confident; he looked worried.
“What’s wrong?” She checked the narrow dashboard that rose on a pedestal between their feet. She recognized about half of the instruments that were like the ones in Mark’s plane, but nothing looked wrong on them and nothing was flashing red.
“Lucy didn’t come back to the barn last night. And she had a late season foal, so I’m a little worried about them.”
Chelsea looked out the windshield but couldn’t imagine how to spot a horse in such a vast area. Now at least she understood that Doug hadn’t been sweeping back and forth over the ranch and the prairie simply to show it to her; he’d been quartering and searching the ground. She’d done search and rescue for lost hikers, but that was tromping through woods and over rough terrain.
“How do you find a horse in thousands of acres?”
“Well,” he pointed down at a lush, pocket-sized meadow around a tiny lake. “I was hoping she’d be here. It’s a favorite of the horses. Hold the collective a minute.”
“The what?”
“The control on the left side of your seat. Just hold it steady, don’t worry, you can’t crash us.”
She tentatively wrapped her hand around the control, until she had a firm grasp. “Okay,” she barely dared whisper it.
Doug took his left hand off his matching control and reached back to scrabble around behind the seat.
Daring greatly, she pulled up on it ever so slightly, and could feel the helicopter rise. She eased back down until the altimeter said she was back at the starting level.
“Here,” he dropped something heavy in her lap. “Put that on, would you?”
She opened the case and looked down at the contraption, for that was the only word for it. There were straps to hold it to your head. It looked like a pair of goggles from one side, and like a half-unicorn, half-bug-eyed monster monocular protruding from the other.
“What is it?”
“Night vision. Lucy and the foal will be significantly warmer than the background. She’ll show up clearly. Mark gets us the best toys.”
Chelsea straightened it out and leaned over to put it on Doug’s head.
“No,” he stopped her. “You wear it.”
8
Doug was amused by her exclamation when she got it turned on. Chelsea took such pleasure from everything about her. The countryside, the helicopter—rather than showing fear she’d proved she had a good and light touch—and now the night vision was tickling her fancy. Last night he’d left early. Partly because it was a time for the family to be together, but also because the vision of Chelsea with Tessa in her lap had been so powerful. She’d made it too easy to imagine a red-headed girl sitting right there, curled up by his fireplace.
For the next two hours, he flew and she scanned. He filled the time with learning about her background. Deeply independent—with parents who had little interest in an intelligent child filled with dreams—she’d forged out on her own. Six years to get her degree because she’d spent two years traveling and hiking; first walking the Continental Divide Trail from New Mexico to Glacier Park, and then all over the Himalayas.
It both amazed and saddened him. She was incredible, had a much clearer view of the world and herself than most people. But he’d found where he wanted to be and she had adventure deep in her blood. She’d never be satisfied with…stupid fantasies of a demented ranch manager.
“There,” her shriek almost blew his eardrums. Close beside the farthest fishing cabin, Lucy and her foal were huddled up against the side of the building. Lucy was lying down. Not a good sign.
He landed as close as he dared and rushed out to the mare. He’d brought a handgun, but not wanting to jar Chelsea’s sensibilities, he’d left it stowed on the helo.
“We won’t have to shoot her, will we?” Chelsea was right beside him.
Okay, so much for that worry. “Let’s hope not.”
Lucy was down, but had raised her head to watch his approach. Her whinny of greeting was encouraging.
He talked to her as he checked her out. No complaints as he tested for broken limbs. Same for the abdomen. Then she coughed in his face, a dry, hacking cough. He felt under her jaw and found swollen lymph nodes.
“Oh, crap!”
“What?”
“We vaccinated her against this.”
“What?” Chelsea sounded deeply worried.
He sighed, “She has the flu. I can’t do much for her here. She needs a warm barn and some rest. I’ll have to ride back out, bring some high energy food and probably start her on a round antibiotics against secondary infection. With a little luck, she’ll come back if I guide her. It will be a long slow ride.”
9
They flew back, and when Doug saddled up a horse, she’d insisted he saddle two. She’d never ridden a horse, only a very recalcitrant mule when she’d sprained an ankle coming off climbing Imja Tse. She could have hobbled out faster than that Nepalese mule had carried her.
At Doug’s guidance, she’d packed a pair of saddlebags with a change of clothes and several days of food. He packed clothes, camping gear in case they were caught out, horse meds, and a twenty pound sack of oats.
He led off at a light trot and she let him. Her horse, a big dapple gray male called Snowflake, looked at her strangely several times as she struggled to imitate Doug’s easy saddle position. Every now and then he’d glance back to make sure she was still with him, and she always managed a plucky wave or nod as the saddle’s hard leather slowly beat her to death.
They were about an hour out when he happened to look back during one of her barely-still-on-the-horse moments. Doug twisted his mount in a tight circle like it was the easiest thing in the world. He twisted again until they were side by side. He leaned over to grab Snowflake’s reins and everything came to a blessed halt.
“Haven’t you ridden before?”
She could only shake her head, because if she opened her mouth she might start crying from all the places she’d rubbed raw.
“You’re either incredibly brave or ridiculously stupid!”
“Mostly,” she managed through gritted teeth. “Except you got the adjectives backwards.” Being at a blessed standstill gave her some tiny sliver of ease. “According to my parents, I’m ridiculously brave and incredibly stupid.”
Doug regarded her for a long moment, then glanced in both the direction they’d come and the one they were headed, considering the options. If he tried to send her back, she’d…she didn’t know what. But she hadn’t gone through this much pain for nothing.
“Okay,” he shook his head. “I’ve seen that look on plenty a stubborn horse and don’t want an argument. Stand up in your stirrups, if you still can.”
She managed it without crying out.
He unrolled an extra blanket he’d had tied to the back of his saddle. He folded it in quarters, tossed it over her saddle, and then pressed her lightly on the shoulder until she eased back down carefully. It wasn’t too painful, and far better than it had been.
“I lead probably a hundred trail rides a summer, Chelsea. You know how many beginner riders could have pulled off what you just did?”
She shook her head.
He held up his fingers and thumb, tips together to show a zero.
“I deserve a prize then.”
Chelsea only had a moment to see his grin before he leaned in and kissed her. This wasn’t some quick peck through the shield of her park
a.
Doug leaned into the kiss and, fool that she was, she welcomed it without even a little protest. He provided plenty skill and heat, but that wasn’t what she was really noticing. What riveted her attention was how absolutely her body was galvanized by the simple act. Actually, ungalvanized. She melted against him despite the two horses that separated them. Leaning as far as she dared, she hung tightly onto the saddle’s pommel with one hand and his jacket with the other and pulled them together. The kiss ran right down to her toes and made them curl in her riding boots.
When he finally eased back, Doug Daniels looked awfully pleased with himself. Of course she was feeling much the same way.
“I’m not sure,” Chelsea was amazed she could even speak, “which of us you were just rewarding.”
“At least you won’t be bhaai-ing me any more,” his laugh was even more self-satisfied than his expression. “Now, let’s teach you how to ride. First, take your reins like this.”
She did her best to follow his instructions and pay attention, but he’d made a warm buzz between her ears despite the cool day only now breaking above freezing.
Doug Daniels was many things: handsome, male, and a heavenly kisser being only three of them. But younger brother he definitely wasn’t.
10
It was four hours to the last turn up to the fishing cabin, less than an hour later than he’d planned. Chelsea was the most apt riding student he’d ever taught, and while Henderson Ranch might be a working one, they made the majority of their income from all of the city folk guests who wanted a week or two of “country.” Chelsea took to it as if she’d been born in the saddle…though she’d probably be too stiff to walk right for days. It had been cruel to keep going, but he couldn’t afford the time to escort her back even if she’d have let him. He’d bet the chances of that were close to zero, yet another thing to appreciate about the beautiful woman. Tenacious as hell.
As it was, they’d be staying in the fishing cabin tonight. The sunset was only a few hours off and Lucy wouldn’t be able to move quickly. It would be a far slower ride back tomorrow. On top of that, keeping Chelsea in the saddle through the night’s journey back would be a cruelty, even if Lucy was up to it.
Christmas at Henderson's Ranch Page 2
