“You mean you don’t?”
Her worry was cute. “I’ve been riding these woods since I was five. Sammy’s been doing it almost as long. He knows where he’s going.”
Haley craned to peer through the trees. “How far is it?”
“Couple miles. We’ll be there in no time.”
“Where? The town?”
“Town’s too far, and you’re too cold. We’ll go to my house, and you can make some calls from there.”
“You live in the woods?” Her voice quavered.
“No, I live on the other side of the woods.” Maddox held the reins negligibly in one hand. “You always this inquisitive?”
“Inquis—” Haley stumbled over the word.
“Inquisitive. It means you ask a lot of questions.”
“I know that.” Her backside brushed his thighs as she moved in irritation.
“You’re surprised a dumb-ass backwoods cowboy knows big words.”
“Maybe.” Her voice was subdued.
Maddox chuckled. “You’re funny, sweetheart. I have a degree in engineering from UC Davis, in case you’re interested.”
She gave him another startled look over her shoulder. Maddox had a fleeting glimpse of wide brown eyes before she turned away. “Really? Then why are you—”
“Out in the middle of nowhere?” He shrugged. A good question, and one he didn’t have an answer to. “I like it here.” Sammy turned without prompting, and Maddox gestured with the hand that held the reins. “My house is over there.”
They’d come out of the trees to the top of a snowed-over path. Across a white field lay a farmhouse—an old, two-story frame house painted a deep yellow, his aunt’s favorite color. Like summer sunshine, she always said.
A porch wrapped all the way around it, the railings white to contrast the yellow. Maddox had the joy of painting all those spindles every couple of years. The barn, in traditional red, sat a little to the left of the house.
“Oh, my,” Haley said in wonder.
Smoke rose from both chimneys of the house, and a bright wreath decorated the front door. Rolling hills covered in silent snow rose behind the house and barn, stretching to the bulk of mountains on the horizon, visible even on this overcast day.
“Like a postcard,” Haley said, enchanted. “It’s lovely.”
“It’s home,” Maddox said. Boasting about it did no one any good. “Aunt Jane has some fires going, and knowing her, she’ll have plenty of hot things to eat and drink ready.”
He sensed more questions bubbling up in Haley, but she managed to tamp them down as Maddox rode Sammy across the field, the snow coming down faster. He halted Sammy at the front porch before he could simply walk on to the barn. “Here’s where you get off.”
Haley cranked around to stare at Maddox again, clearly having no idea how to climb down.
Maddox dismounted by pushing himself backward off Sammy, who would never dream of kicking him. He wasn’t that kind of horse. Lance circled Sammy as Maddox went to Haley, where she waited in the saddle, and hauled her down.
Her body, soft and feminine, crushed against Maddox’s. She smelled good, like lemons and fresh air. Her muscles were pliant, curves beneath her clothes. A man could enjoy getting to know those curves.
Haley’s hands came to rest against Maddox’s chest. Her brown eyes had flecks of gold in them—they also held a lot of anxiety, a woman out of her element and not sure what to do.
Well, she had nothing to worry about. Aunt Jane would thaw her out with coffee, he’d make some phone calls, and they’d get her on her way.
She’d head on to Seattle and Maddox would never see her again. Which would be too bad …
The front door burst open. “There you are.” Aunt Jane skimmed onto the porch in the swift way she had of doing everything.
She was thin, half Maddox’s size, and moved like a tornado through a wheat field. When she did her errands in town, everyone scrambled to get out of her way. You always knew where Aunt Jane was by the people flying apart ahead of her.
Haley wrenched herself out of Maddox’s arms and nearly slipped again. Maddox casually put out a hand and steadied her.
“How’s the storm?” Aunt Jane demanded, her fists on her hips. “Roads blocked? Who is this? Another stray?” Aunt Jane’s blue eyes softened as she ran her gaze over Haley, who stood awkwardly next to Maddox. “Aw, you look all worn out, honey. Maddox, help her inside. Come on now, it’s cold. By the way, I picked up that card you asked me to, from the Christmas gift tree at Big Sky Living,” she continued as Maddox handed Haley up the porch stairs, making sure she didn’t fall again. “Why don’t you put away Sammy while I get this poor girl warmed up?” Aunt Jane held out her arm to usher Haley inside. “Do you want coffee or tea, sweetie? I have both brewed up.”
Half an hour later, Haley found herself sitting on a comfortable sofa, having shed her coat, boots, and Maddox’s scarf, a mug of steaming tea in her hand. She was from Seattle, land of coffee, a beverage she disliked, so she always welcomed tea.
Aunt Jane’s last name wasn’t Campbell, like Maddox’s, but Howard. She was Maddox’s mother’s younger sister. Maddox’s parents had been killed when he was eight, in a small plane crash when they’d been visiting friends in Wyoming. Aunt Jane had moved into Maddox’s family’s house and taken care of him from then on.
Maddox raised and trained horses, not for racing or rodeos, but to be stunt horses in the movies or TV. His cousins who lived down in Texas were stunt riders, famous ones—Maddox supplied the horses he thought would work well for them. He also helped out kids who didn’t have much, teaching them about horses and riding. A real sweetheart, Aunt Jane said. Everyone in town loved Maddox.
Maddox himself came in through the back door in time for the last declaration. He hung up his hat on a hook next to the door and shrugged off his long coat.
“Has she been telling you my life story?” He pulled off his cowboy boots and jammed his feet into sneakers he obviously wore only indoors.
Moving with ease for such a large man, Maddox grabbed a mug from the tray Aunt Jane had brought out and poured himself a huge cup of coffee from the pot on the sideboard. He plopped himself on the other end of the sofa Haley sat on and took a long, noisy sip.
“Ah,” he said after he swallowed. “Thanks, Aunt Jane. Cold out there.”
Aunt Jane gave Maddox a severe look. “We’re trying to reach Haley’s folks, but nothing’s working. Not her cell phone, not our land lines.”
“Happens,” Maddox said. “Phones go out around here sometimes, especially in a bad snowfall.”
He leaned back, perfectly relaxed, not worried at all that a total stranger was sitting in his house, drinking tea with his aunt, while his aunt regaled her with tales of his childhood.
He also didn’t look as though he’d be bothering to go anywhere for a while. Haley cradled her mug, which warmed her fingers, but she couldn’t calm herself to the level of these people. To look at them, you’d think nothing was wrong.
“Um—you mentioned going back for my suitcases?”
“Hmm?” Maddox turned his head on the sofa’s back and sent her a lazy look from his blue eyes. His hair was dark brown, almost black, strands curled against the flowered chintz of the sofa. “They’ll be fine for now.”
Haley’s annoyance grew. “I can’t just leave them out there for anyone to take.”
Maddox gave her an amazed look. “Who’s going to take them? Don’t worry so much.”
“Maddox,” Aunt Jane said disapprovingly. “She’s a guest. Stop teasing her.”
The faint smile twitched his lips. “Can’t help it. Teasing is what I do. But you don’t have to worry. Buddy’s bringing your suitcases on his way.”
“Who’s Buddy?” Haley asked anxiously.
“He helps me out feeding and grooming the horses,” Maddox replied without moving. “I texted him to stop by your car and dig out the luggage.”
Haley said with exaggerated patience,
“How will he? He doesn’t have a key to the trunk.”
Maddox’s eyes flickered. “Oh, locks never stopped Buddy.” To Haley’s alarmed look he said, “But he doesn’t steal things anymore. He’s gone straight.”
Haley sat up, not feeling any better. “If you can text, then may I borrow your phone to let my dad know I’m all right? And to make arrangements to stay in a hotel in town?”
Maddox slipped a phone out of his back pocket. “Be my guest.”
Aunt Jane broke in quickly, “You don’t want to stay in town, Haley. We don’t have any nice places and everyone’s full up for Christmas anyway. Besides, it’s a long way on horseback when the roads are closed.”
“I have to stay somewhere.” Haley opened Maddox’s text messaging app to find a long row of contacts. For a guy who lived with his aunt in a small town, he knew a lot of people.
Her own phone refused to work at all. When she’d attempted to call her dad, the whole thing had gone dark, and trying to reboot hadn’t helped. Her power cord, which should have been in her briefcase, must have gotten tossed into one of her suitcases and was still in the car. Aunt Jane had said she didn’t like and didn’t use cell phones, so if they had cords here to charge it up, she didn’t know which ones would work or even where they were.
Maddox’s phone wouldn’t connect either but Haley, in hope, tapped in her father’s number on the texting line and typed a brief message. When she hit “Send” it said, Message failed. Try again.
She tapped the phone once more, and again, and again. She growled in her throat as she ended up hitting it over and over with her finger until Maddox jerked the device out of her hands.
“Come on, now. It’s not the phone’s fault.” He looked it over, as though maybe she’d broken it. “Anyone else you want to try?”
Haley’s fingers shook as she pushed back hair that had fallen into her face. Usually she was so well groomed, hair tamed, clothes neat and unwrinkled, everything she needed tucked into specific pockets inside her briefcase. Everything in its place.
Now she couldn’t find half of her things, her hair wouldn’t stay put, and she was shaking, in spite of the heat of the excellent tea.
Linda—she’d be able to contact her dad for her. “Linda Krantz. Her number is …” She pressed her hands to her head, trying to think. That was the trouble with modern technology. You didn’t have to remember numbers anymore—just start typing a name, up it pops on your list, no phone numbers to memorize. Great, until you didn’t have your data and you couldn’t remember your best friend’s phone number to save your life.
“It’s …” She lowered her hands, eyes stinging with tears. “I don’t know. I need my phone, but it’s dead. It probably got smacked around too much when I crashed.”
“Let me see it.” Maddox held out a large, work-hardened hand.
Haley dug through the briefcase at her feet and slapped the useless piece of plastic into Maddox’s palm. Maddox held it up in front of his face and tapped it once.
“Yep. I’d say it’s busted.”
Haley sat on the edge of the couch. “How is that supposed to help me?”
Maddox’s eyes softened. “Hey, sweetie, take it easy. I’m just messing with you. It’s probably out of power.” He got off the sofa and went to a table near the front door. Extracting a white cord, he plugged in her phone and set it on the table. “If it’s truly broken, there’s a guy in town who can fix it. He can fix anything.”
“I thought you were an engineer.” If he was going to give her shit, Haley could do it right back to him.
Maddox rumbled a laugh. “Sure, of big things like windmills and mines. Not tiny little cell phone chips. Not with these hands.” He held them up and spread his fingers, showing her broad and blunt digits, hard from ranch work. “And my degree was just for school. I found out I’d rather be with horses, not machinery.”
“Is that why you live out here in the middle of nowhere?” She’d asked him that already, but he hadn’t answered.
Maddox’s amusement died. “Everything’s somewhere, sweetheart. The back of beyond to you is home to someone else.”
Aunt Jane looked disapproving of the whole conversation. Haley got to her feet. “I’m sorry,” she said to Aunt Jane. “I’m not trying to be ungrateful. I just want to go home.”
Home to her cushy apartment in Seattle, hosting business parties in the few days between now and Christmas. Then Christmas dinner with her dad, the one day of the year that was just about them. Her mom had deserted them a long time ago to be with her boyfriend, and now it was Haley and her dad—Robert McKee, or just McKee as he was called by everyone. He’d be worried.
No, he’d be in back-to-back meetings, lifting his head every once in a while to wonder if Haley would be much longer.
Aunt Jane rose and put her arm around her. “You poor sweetheart. Don’t listen to Maddox. He enjoys being a pain in the backside. You are going to stay right here with us—no, don’t argue—we have plenty of room, and you’ll have a nice cozy bedroom all to yourself. Buddy will bring your things, and when the snow stops, we’ll get you on the road. You’re lucky Maddox found you. He’s really very sweet, when he’s not acting like a lummox.”
“Nah,” Maddox said. “I’m a lummox. But she’s right. You’re welcome to stay here—I guarantee it’s better than anyplace in town where they might only find you a closet to sleep in. Aunt Jane always keeps the place nice for visitors.” He picked up a snowflake-shaped card that had been resting on the table. “Is this from the gift tree?”
Aunt Jane rubbed Haley’s shoulder. Haley wished the woman wouldn’t be so nice, because she was about to collapse in a puddle of aching tiredness, worry, and relief. Easier to argue with Maddox, using the friction he caused to keep her awake and upright.
She’d be all right, Haley told herself severely. She dealt with crises far worse than this running a huge business.
But that was work. This was personal—real life—something Haley wasn’t very good at.
“That’s it,” Aunt Jane said to Maddox, nodding at the card. “Hope you have enough time to get whatever the poor kid wants.”
“Gift tree?” Haley asked, curiosity working through her emotions.
“It’s become a Christmas tradition,” Maddox said. “Kids hang these cards on a tree down at the sporting goods store, we pick one out, and we’re that kid’s secret Santa. The kids don’t have a lot—their parents are out of work or they’re farm workers who don’t earn very much. At least they all get one nice gift under their tree. I’ll pick up whatever this kid—oh, it’s Danny Vining—” he read the name, “wants and take it back to the guy who’s playing Santa this year.”
“Oh, that’s nice,” Haley said. “What does Danny want?”
Maddox opened the card, which spread into two identical snowflakes. His gaze became fixed, all amusement gone. “Shit,” he said softly.
“What?” Haley and Aunt Jane asked at the same time. They both moved to look over Maddox’s shoulder.
In a careful but childish scrawl, the little boy Danny had written what he wanted most for Christmas.
My Dad.
Chapter Three
Maddox’s heart dropped into his shoes. Every year since that rich guy, Noah Elliott, had set up the charity tree, Maddox had driven to Kalispell or over to Missoula and bought one of the latest toys or gadgets that the boy or girl he’d chosen wanted.
He knew Danny. The kid was about eleven, in trouble a lot. His mother, who held down two low-paying jobs to make ends meet, didn’t have time to deal with a handful like Danny. Maddox helped out when he could by taking Danny fishing or camping, teaching him to ride and work with horses. Danny liked the horses and stayed out of mischief when he was around them.
Haley’s hair brushed Maddox’s hand as she leaned forward to read the card. “Poor kid,” she said. “What happened to his dad?”
“Disappeared a few years ago,” Maddox said woodenly. “As in, he blew town without making
a secret of it and headed down the highway, never coming back.”
“Asshole.” Her brown eyes flashed with anger that matched his own.
She didn’t elaborate as she took the card, her chest lifting with a long breath.
Maddox had lost his parents and that had been a terrible, terrible time. But at least his mom and dad had loved him to the end, and Maddox felt that love still, twenty years later. Danny’s dad had been a total screw-up. He hadn’t abused his wife or Danny, thank heavens, but he’d been a shithead who probably wouldn’t do Danny any good if he came back.
But every boy wanted his dad. Maddox would have done anything to have his dad and mom come home, say it had all been a mistake, and that they were fine.
“What do I do with this?” Maddox asked, mostly to himself. “Anything I come up with will be a big let down for Danny.”
Haley ran her thumb over the card. Her hands were slim, nails trimmed but not decorated in the fancy-ass way women often had them.
“We’ll think of something.” Haley sounded intrigued.
“So you’re staying then,” Aunt Jane said to her.
Haley looked up. “I don’t have a choice, for now. Might as well help out. If I can get through on the phone or text I can have my PA find something really nice for him.”
PA. She had a personal assistant, for crap’s sake. “I’ll take care of it,” Maddox said abruptly.
More anger flashed in Haley’s eyes. She held on to the card when Maddox tried to take it back. He tugged. She tugged. For some reason, Aunt Jane was smirking.
Haley didn’t let go. “Why don’t you want me to help?”
“A gift should be personal,” Maddox growled. “Not what your assistant picks up on her lunch hour.”
Haley’s brows slammed together. She was pretty when she scowled, but Maddox wasn’t about to tell her that. “Your assistant is bringing my bags,” she said. “Are you telling me you never have him run errands for you?”
She had a point, damn it. “Not one like this.”
Haley glared at him, her fingers clamped to the card. “We’ll give my assistant some ideas, she’ll find appropriate things, and we’ll narrow down the list. I do it all the time. My dad always loves what we come up with.”
Snowbound in Starlight Bend Page 2
