“If you’d rather, we can turn around.”
“Is that what you want to do?”
She tilted her head back, her gaze lifted to the sky. She wore little makeup, if any, but then she didn’t need anything. Her lashes were even thicker than he’d thought last night, and the more he looked into her gray-blue eyes, the more interesting they seemed. And her skin...it looked soft, really silky. Good thing he wasn’t one to give in to impulse. He sure had a powerful itch to run his thumb across her cheek to see for himself.
“I love being out here. But I don’t want to interfere with your work.” She brought her small chin down and met his gaze. “I still can’t believe I got my first day mixed up.” She sighed. “That’s a lie. I mess up timelines a lot.”
“Here I figured you for the organized type.”
“At work I am, but in my personal life...” She gave a small helpless shrug. “It seems I need to pay more attention to details.”
Jesse threw out their cold coffee and poured them refills. “This time it worked out,” he said, putting her cup in her hand.
“How do you mean?”
“You might not have had a chance to come up here. Isn’t it beautiful country?” He looked over the gently rolling hills that flattened out toward the Sundance.
Where the pine trees thinned, he could see the sun glistening off streams and creeks, which were partially iced over. Winter wasn’t his favorite time of year, but the sagebrush and bunchgrass would be covered with snow soon and fields of undisturbed velvety white would produce a different kind of beauty. His chest tightened. Hard to think about leaving Montana. His family. The Sundance.
Damn, every time he figured he’d come to a decision, his thinking got muddled.
No, the problem wasn’t so much in his head—his heart was doing the interfering. He knew better. There was no place for emotion in this debate. Duty came first.
“You’re right. It’s gorgeous.” Silence again lapsed as she stood beside him, gazing out at the peaceful landscape. “Is that your ranch?” She pointed, and the blanket slid off her shoulders.
He caught it, but not before splashing coffee down the front of his jeans. “Son of a—” He cut himself short. “Sorry.”
Looking horrified, she stared at his fly, or at least that’s where her attention seemed to be centered. “I just keep being a nuisance.”
“Hey, no problem. It’ll freeze-dry in seconds.” He paused. “My jeans.”
“Right.” She blushed. “I knew what you meant,” she murmured, taking the blanket from him, and struggling with only one free hand to rearrange it around her hunched shoulders.
He wondered how old she was. She probably wasn’t as young as he assumed. It wasn’t just the blushing. Rachel blushed easily and she was a damn firecracker. Shea seemed...not naive necessarily, backward wasn’t right, either...just different. Whatever it was, the woman had a strange effect on him he wasn’t sure he cared for.
“I think we should go back. I still have to go to town for the thermal underwear and gloves, and I’d prefer to go before dark.”
“You have a few hours—” he began, then saw a flicker of apprehension in her eyes. “You’re right. Better to give yourself some extra time.” He almost offered to drive her, but he had the impression she wanted to get away from him. He didn’t take it personally. Maybe he should, though.
Different was one thing. Interesting was a whole new ball game. For his own sake, maybe she was someone he should stay away from, period.
* * *
JESSE MCALLISTER WAS gorgeous, his manners perfect and Shea loved the gentle way he talked to his horse. Any normal woman with a pulse would’ve noticed his dark good looks and quiet confidence. Apparently she could count herself among them, which was an oddity in itself. Her awareness level barely reached simmer when it came to the opposite sex. Any pubescent attraction she’d experienced had always been edged out by fear and awkwardness. She’d quickly learned to compartmentalize. It was quite remarkable that she’d even hooked up with Brian.
So what on earth was this fluttering sensation over Jesse? Because he was nice? Because he paid her some attention? God, she hoped not. That would make her too much like her mother.
Taking a deep breath, she tried to relax as he helped her into the saddle. He was merely being polite, she reminded herself. Her flustered reactions were her problem, not his. What made the situation more difficult was the whole touching thing. Jesse was so casual about brushing her arm, tucking the blanket around her shoulders, cupping the back of her lower calf to make sure her foot was anchored in the stirrup. His hand had even accidentally grazed the front of her jacket earlier and he hadn’t batted an eye.
“The wind has picked up. It’ll be chilly riding back down. You ought to keep this around you.” He offered the blanket, and as if reading her mind, added, “We’ll take it nice and easy.”
“Thank you,” she said and exchanged Rambo’s reins for the blanket.
Jesse swung up into his saddle and nudged the gelding into the lead. The horse hadn’t advanced more than two feet when Jesse reined him in again. He eyed the struggle she was having with the blanket. Folding it in half made it more manageable as a shawl, but the wool was thick and heavy, and she was afraid she’d lose it halfway down the hill.
“Here.” He leaned over and helped her arrange the blanket so that her shoulders and arms were covered, yet she could still keep a firm grip.
She sighed. “You must think I’m twelve.”
He gave her that slow, easy smile of his. “Trust me, that’s not what I think.”
She didn’t understand her reaction. It was physical, tense, but not like being trapped. And then there was the oddly pleasant apprehension in the pit of her stomach. Maybe it was the way his voice had lowered or the way his gaze roamed her face then lingered briefly on her lips. They were chapped. He was probably about to tell her to pick up some medicated balm while she was in town.
His eyes met hers, and he wasn’t smiling anymore. “Ready?”
Nodding, she stared at the slight tic in his jaw and hoped she hadn’t somehow annoyed him. She waited for him to go first and concentrated on clutching both the reins and the blanket. It was useless to try to figure out what had just happened. She was horrible at that sort of thing. Computer glitches? She was a whiz. But human glitches, she was better off ignoring.
When he reached the bottom of the slope he turned around and waited for her. That only made her more self-conscious and she wished he’d kept going. “Okay?” he asked.
“Fine.”
“You can give Gypsy her head. She’ll follow Rambo until we get to flatter ground.”
Shea smiled.
“You still laughing at my horse’s name?”
“It is funny.”
“You’re gonna hurt his feelings.”
“With a name like Rambo? I don’t think so.”
Jesse laughed. It was a great sound. He leaned back and adjusted his hat while he watched her and Gypsy finish tackling the descent.
“You’re making me nervous,” she finally admitted. “Keep going. You don’t have to wait.”
“Yeah, I do, but I won’t watch. How’s that?” he said, amusement in his voice as he wheeled his horse around.
She darted a look from the rocky snow-dusted ground to his broad shoulders. “Not much better,” she murmured.
“What was that?”
“Nothing.” She held her breath until she and Gypsy were safely down the slope and standing beside Jesse.
He eyed the blanket that was again sagging off her back but he made no move to fix it. Crazily, she wished that he would. It was only curiosity, an experiment to see if she felt anything from him touching her again.
Her gaze was drawn to the shallow cleft in his chin, already dark with stubble. The flutter picked up, right behind her breastbone, and suddenly she was anxious to get back to the Sundance. To be in her car and away from the bewildering McAllisters.
Away from Jesse.
5
ARMED WITH BOTH a GPS and written directions, early the next morning Shea drove down the narrow bumpy highway toward Safe Haven. Sadly, she’d already finished the coffee from the to-go mug Rachel had fixed her. Although she would’ve loved more caffeine, the never-ending potholes and misty dimness around her were enough to keep her hands firmly gripping the wheel and her eyes wide and alert.
Only when she saw the sign for the Safe Haven turnoff did she feel comfortable reaching for the cheese crackers in her purse. She was starving. Last night’s dinner had consisted of a diet cola she’d picked up in town along with her new gloves and thermal underwear. Rachel had tried to get her to join the family for dinner but Shea had refused, and while she’d turned down the full breakfast Rachel had offered, she had grabbed a warm muffin on the way out.
It wasn’t about not being a bother anymore. She worried that it would’ve been awkward seeing Jesse. More than likely the problem was in her head. They’d had a perfectly nice ride yesterday. She couldn’t have asked for a more courteous guide. They’d even talked a little on the way back. Nothing major, small talk, really... Which, come to think of it, was kind of major since she was so notoriously bad at it that she tried her best to keep to herself.
After inhaling the crackers, she nibbled away at her muffin as she searched for signs of the shelter. The land was flat out here to the east of town. There were a few trees and scrub brush but nothing like she’d seen on her ride with Jesse. At least it was easy to see what was coming up ahead, especially now that the sky was lightening up. She was licking the last crumbs from her fingers when she saw the big weathered barn. Two smaller wooden buildings sat off to the side, and Shea thought she could see the words Safe Haven etched on a plank stuck to a post.
Slowing the vehicle, she made the turn and pulled the rental alongside an old green pickup splattered with mud. Another truck was parked closer to the gate, but that was it, no sign anyone else was around. Of course, she was early.
“Welcome.”
She heard someone calling to her even before she closed the car door.
“Over here. By the barn.” The woman was tall and lean, her blond hair pulled into a long ponytail that swung back and forth as she waved her gloved hand. She wore badly faded jeans patched at the knees and a heavy brown parka that had a tear near the shoulder.
Shea acknowledged her with a reciprocal wave, then pocketed her keys. Deciding to leave her purse on the floorboard of the car, she met the woman halfway. “Are you Annie?”
“I am. And I bet you’re one of our new volunteers.” Annie pulled off a glove and extended her hand. “Shea Monroe, I’m guessing.”
“You’re right.” Shea couldn’t say why, but she’d expected someone older. Annie looked to be in her late twenties, maybe thirty, and so friendly that Shea didn’t hesitate to shake the woman’s hand.
“I cheated.” Annie grinned. “The other two volunteers called to say they’d be an hour late.”
“Ah.” She smiled back, wondering if the Montana air had something to do with her newfound ease. “And here I’m early. Hope it isn’t a problem.”
“Are you kidding? I never turn down help with chores.” She studied Shea for a moment, glancing at her jeans and boots. “I don’t suppose you brought a pair of work gloves with you.”
“Oh...I did.” She dug the keys out of her pocket and used the remote to unlock the Toyota’s rear door. The gloves were still in the package but she removed them, then used her teeth to break through the binding plastic ring. “I bought them in town yesterday. Jesse suggested I’d need something better than what I’d brought with me.”
“Jesse?” Annie said, her brows arched in surprise.
“Jesse McAllister.” Shea felt funny suddenly. Though she hadn’t said anything wrong...she didn’t think.... “I’m staying at the Sundance.”
“That’s right. Rachel mentioned it. You won’t meet a nicer family.”
“They’ve been wonderful. I hate that I’m imposing but I was desperate.” She walked with Annie toward the barn, taking an extra step every few feet in order to keep up with Annie’s mile-long legs.
“I’ve only known the McAllisters for two years, but I doubt you’re intruding. Number one, they’re very supportive of the shelter and are happy you’re volunteering. And secondly, if you got Jesse to talk long enough to recommend gloves, then I’m sure they all love you to pieces.” Annie stopped to pick up the bucket she’d left in the entryway of the barn. “If you don’t mind, I’ll wait until Molly and Hank, the other volunteers, arrive before I give a tour.”
“Absolutely,” Shea murmured, torn between being a bother and wanting to ask about Jesse.
“But I’m happy to have you come along while I feed the animals,” Annie said. “The more exposure you have the better.” Her kind blue eyes sparkled. “Now come meet Kiki. She’ll be a little ornery at first but as soon as she gets some grain in her belly she’ll be sweet as pie.”
In a matter of seconds, Annie had flipped the moment’s awkwardness into positive action. Envying the woman’s ability, Shea followed in grateful silence as they entered a fenced-off section inside the cavernous barn. Hay was strewn across the hard dirt floor where chickens clucked around the hooves of grazing goats.
Shea had never seen a goat up close before and she was amazed at their varying sizes and how different they looked. She spotted a particularly tall brown-and-black one with big floppy ears who towered over the others and looked as if she might be the matriarch of the bunch. “Is that Camel?”
Annie slid her another curious look. “Jesse?”
She nodded. “He said she’s partial to human hair.”
“Never turn your back on her,” Annie said. “Even if she’s just eaten. It won’t matter.” She swung open the gate to a stall and a medium-size brown goat with tiny ears came trotting excitedly toward them. “This is Kiki, behind her is Angel.”
Shea let out a delighted gasp at the still-gangly white baby goat that was smaller than a border collie. Except, like the brown goat, she practically had no ears. “She’s adorable. How old is she?”
“About three weeks. They grow fast and they come out almost ready to walk. They’re Lamanchas. That’s why the small ears.”
Even if Shea didn’t know what was going on, apparently both goats knew what to do. She stood back to give them room and watched as they anxiously squeezed into the stall with an odd-looking wooden contraption. Kiki immediately jumped up onto the platform, stuck her head through something that might have been a neck harness and stared at the empty metal bowl sitting on a stump.
“Here you go, mama.” Annie poured grain into the bowl, then latched the harness around Kiki’s neck to keep her in place.
Angel had already jumped up onto the platform and started to nurse. Busy munching the grain, Kiki ignored the baby.
“Why do you have to lock her up like that?” Shea asked.
“So that she’ll let Angel nurse and not hurt her. Kiki lost her two babies. She isn’t Angel’s mother and she won’t allow her to nurse freely yet. It should happen eventually, but until then they have to be supervised.” Annie tapped the wood contraption. “I use this as a milking station but it works well for this purpose. You volunteers will have Kiki and Angel on your duty list.”
“Ouch!” Something yanked at Shea’s hair and she jerked her head forward, her hand flying to the back of her scalp as she tried to tug free.
Annie quickly stepped in. “No,” she ordered abruptly.
The pressure didn’t ease and Shea felt a moment’s panic. Suddenly she was released and she spun around to stare into the unconcerned brown eyes of Camel. The goat stared back, contentedly chewing...presumably a clump of Shea’s newly washed hair. She rubbed the assaulted area of her scalp, expecting to find a bald spot, but everything seemed intact.
“Sorry about that.” Annie gently shoved the goat’s face aside. “Come on, Cami, beat it.”
“I
s that my hair she’s chewing?”
“Alfalfa. I don’t think she actually had time to do anything other than give you a good yank.” Annie pressed her lips together, obviously trying not to laugh. “On the bright side, it’s not likely to happen again.”
“Oh, so that was an initiation.”
“No, sadly, it’s her favorite pastime, but I’m betting you never turn your back on her again.”
“Um—” Shea smiled ruefully “—I wouldn’t put money on that.”
Annie eyed her a moment and then switched her gaze to Angel. The small goat reared back on her hind legs and used her front hooves to give Kiki’s bulging udder a couple of whacks. Shea braced herself for the fallout, but Kiki, completely indifferent, kept eating her grain.
“Angel’s not hurting her,” Annie explained. “She’s just getting the milk to flow better. It’s instinctive.”
Fascinated, Shea continued to watch. “I wish I knew more. I hope I’m not useless around here.”
“No worries. We’ll show you everything you need to know. I can’t tell you how much we appreciate you volunteering. If not for people like you no one would have time to spend with their families.”
“Where are you going for the holidays?”
Annie blinked, her blue eyes briefly clouded before she turned to pick up the bucket. “I’m not going anywhere. I’ll be here.”
Not wanting to intrude, Shea turned her attention back to the pair of goats. She’d actually surprised herself by asking an impertinent question. Must be the McAllisters’ influence. “How many animals do you have on the premises?”
“Right now we have twenty-three bison, six sows, a pair of potbellied pigs, eight donkeys, at least three dozen goats and more than two hundred horses. The chickens we keep for eggs.”
“I had no idea there were so many residents.”
“It varies. Right now, we’re really overcrowded, more than even the time of year can account for. But it’s cyclical.” Annie grinned. “Sorry you volunteered?”
“No, I just don’t know how you keep up. The feed bill alone has to be outrageous.”
On a Snowy Christmas Night Page 5
