Into the Arms of a Cowboy

by Isabella Ashe

  How the hell was he going to share a one-room cabin with Cassie, and still keep hold of his sanity?

  CHAPTER FIVE

  For Cassie, the rest of that day passed quietly. Jess taught her to feed the raccoon kits one drop of milk at a time, until their little bellies grew rounded and full. She laughed when he showed her how to burp them, just like real babies, and to groom them with cotton balls dipped in warm water.

  Jess’s hands were so gentle, his thick fingers tender as he tended the baby raccoons. Amazing. Hard to believe they were the same hands that conquered bulls and bucking horses.

  By noon, two of the kits were twittering and dragging their tiny bodies over the towel, exploring their bedroom. Cassie quickly christened them Rascal and Scamp. The third baby, however, lay quiet. Its little chest rose and fell, but it didn’t suck eagerly at the eyedropper during feeding time. This weak one Cassie called Angel.

  “You probably shouldn’t name them yet,” Jess scolded. “At least see whether they make it through the night.”

  But Cassie loved the kits already. As she explored the clearing outside the cabin late in the afternoon, she realized she’d never known how to rein in her emotions. She’d loved her mother, for example, despite all the betrayals and broken promises.

  Cassie rounded the cabin and found Jess’s garden, the green shoots pushing up from the dark, damp earth. The rain had stopped, but more clouds perched on the horizon.

  Throughout her childhood, she’d clung fiercely to the hope that things would one day get better. But here was no point in thinking about it. Focus on the present, that’s what all the self-help books said. Move on.

  Deep inside, however, Cassie wondered whether she could do that without first grieving her childhood. So many shameful secrets still festered inside her. But who could she tell? She’d spent so many years pushing away anybody who came too close. Maybe that’s why she had no close friends.

  The grass near Jess’s cabin was so green and soft. She slipped off her espadrilles and wriggled her toes in it. The air smelled good, too. Like sunshine and pine needles. Just down the hill was another clearing and an orchard full of apple trees, their gnarled trunks furred with pale green lichen, each branch loaded to bursting with pink and white blossoms.

  Cassie walked slowly back to the cabin’s front porch. She sank into a rocking chair and sat gazing out at the view. The mountain blocked out the town somewhere to the south, but she could just make out the road wandering down the hillside, a narrow band slicing through the forest. In the distance she spotted the shining waters of a small lake.

  She took another deep breath, savoring the crisp, clean air and the stillness around her. No traffic sounds. No voices. No city hustle and bustle.

  This was a lonely place.

  No, she corrected herself, not lonely. Solitary. A place where a person couldn’t hide from herself. Where she couldn’t pretend to be someone she wasn’t.

  That’s what she’d been doing these past few years in San Francisco. Remaking herself, yes, but also hiding out. Trading work she loved for more the more prestigious magazine shoots that bored her to tears. Keeping other people at arm’s length. Buying clothes she couldn’t afford. Dating men who. . . well, that was another story.

  The creak of floorboards and the squeak of the screen door made her turn. Jess stood behind her, minus his crutches, his shoulder braced against the door frame. “What are you thinking about,” he asked, “with such a deadly serious look on your face?”

  About her life. About how she’d chased after all the wrong things, and it had taken a dead man to make her see it. But she couldn’t say that to Jess.

  “About. . .about how much I wish I had my camera,” she blurted.

  “Oh?”

  “Sure. Look at the light right now. Soft, diffuse--I could make a picture of your orchard now, or the cabin.” Her voice trailed off dreamily as she focused on the images in her mind. “Perfect for a romantic scene. . . .”

  “You’re a photographer!”

  The delight in his voice snapped her back to the present. “That’s right,” she said. No harm in his knowing that much, but before he could fish for more information, she stood and said brightly, “Didn’t Gus drop off a couple of nice steaks? I’ll broil them and make a salad, if you’re getting hungry. I know I am.”

  After dinner, and another meal for the raccoons, Jess went out to feed and play with Harry. Even one day after his accident, Jess managed well on his crutches and refused her help with his chores. Cassie chose a mystery novel from his bookshelves and curled up in a chair to read.

  When Jess returned, his eyes glowed with secret pleasure. He shrugged off his wet nylon windbreaker and offered Cassie a leather case.

  “What’s this?” She accepted the gift, puzzled but curious, and unzipped the case. It looked liked. . . Her fingers trembled with excitement as she lifted it out. She gasped. “A Leica--it’s beautiful.”

  Cassie turned the camera over in her hands. Old and neglected, but gorgeous. A classic. Metal instead of the more modern plastic, and heavy in her grip. She raised her eyes to Jess’s face. “Where on earth did you get this?”

  He shrugged modestly, but a grin split his sun-bronzed face from ear to ear. “Had it stashed away in my shed for years. My sister was crazy about photography in high school, but then she dropped it. My grandfather gave that to her. Do you like it?”

  “I love it.” She clutched the camera to her chest. She wanted to throw her arms around Jess, but something stopped her. Not that Jess would do anything she didn’t want him to do. Quite the opposite, in fact. That morning he’d exercised more restraint than she had.

  Excitement bubbled up inside her as she inspected the camera. “I’ve got a couple rolls of film in my purse. I’m going to get up really early tomorrow and see what the light’s like at sunrise. And I’ll take pictures of the babies, too.” She gestured toward the raccoon kits in their carrier on top of a low bookshelf. “Oh, Jess, this is the best present anyone’s ever given me.” She cleared her throat and averted her eyes. “I mean, as a loan, of course. I can’t keep it.”

  “Why not?” He frowned, his brown eyes troubled. “I want you to have it.”

  “Because. . .because it’s worth quite a lot of money.”

  “So? You’ll use it more than I ever will. It’s yours, Cassie.”

  Reluctantly, she nodded. She would leave the camera behind, though, when the time came for her to move on. Hopefully, that time wouldn’t come soon. Jess hadn’t mentioned anything about returning to work. As soon as he did. . .well, she wouldn’t think about that. Not now.

  To distract herself, she finished reading her mystery novel, then changed into a long white cotton nightgown from Gus’s package and reprised the previous evening’s search for chocolate. This hunt paid off.

  “Thank you, Gus,” she muttered as she tore the wrapper off a Dove bar and leaned against the kitchen sink for the first taste. The thick milk chocolate shell and the rich vanilla ice cream were enough to make any woman forget her woes. She closed her eyes, savoring the treat.

  “You’re sure enjoying that. Can I have a bite?”

  At Jess’s amused words, Cassie’s eyes popped open. He stood next to her in the kitchen, one hand on the counter for balance, his right leg tucked up to keep the pressure off his bad ankle. “How about it?” he asked, eyes sparkling. “Do you mind sharing?”

  Cassie grinned and used her teeth to break off another piece of chocolate coating. “Get your own ice cream, mister,” she mumbled around a mouthful of sweetness. “This one’s mine.”

  Jess leaned closer. A nervous tremor twisted Cassie’s insides, but she also felt a warm, thrilling sexual heat low in her belly, a pleasurable sensation that spread as Jess’s lips curved into a charming smile. He was so near to her. She could see every dark whisker beginning to shadow his strong chin. She smelled deodorant soap mixed with rain and the faint smell of leather.

  Should she kiss him? Quickly, in
her mind, she listed the pros and cons. The cons were pretty darn overwhelming. Her common sense told to keep the relationship platonic. As for the pros, the reasons in favor of kissing Jess--well, there was only one.

  She wanted to.

  It took only an instant for instinct to triumph over rationality. So much for common sense. But Jess had pulled back this morning, so she had to make the first move. Cassie shivered, and not from the ice cream’s chill on her tongue.

  I’ll have to be brazen. Seductive. Irresistible. Too bad this nightgown isn’t just a little sexier.

  Jess was still smiling down at her. “Didn’t you learn to share in kindergarten?”

  She peered up at him under her lashes with what she hoped was a smoky gaze. “All right,” she said huskily. “But just one bite. A small one.”

  Cassie offered the ice cream bar. His firm, sensuous lips closed around it--and she pulled it away, laughing deep in her throat. “Too slow,” she purred.

  She took another bite herself, then let the tip of her tongue follow the curve of her lips to catch stray drops of melted ice cream. Jess rewarded her with a look of mingled surprise and desire. She had stoked a fire in his dark eyes, and this pleased her.

  He gently caught her wrist and pulled her hand toward him. “Enough teasing,” he growled. He sunk his teeth into the ice cream, his mouth mere inches from hers.

  “My turn.” Cassie nibbled at a corner of the ice cream bar, her eyes locked on his. Again, her tongue sought the stray crumbs of chocolate on her moist lips. The air between them crackled with sexual energy.

  Jess voice emerged raw, hoarse, a harsh, tortured sound. “You missed some.”

  “Show me where,” Cassie whispered. She tipped her head up and let her eyelids slide closed. She’d never acted with such abandon. But she’d never wanted any man the way she wanted Jess, and the consequences be damned.

  With one last helpless groan, Jess’s mouth descended on hers. His tongue traced her lips, softly licking away the last bits of melting chocolate. Then his kiss deepened, grew more demanding, and Cassie tasted a sweetness that owed nothing to cocoa and sugar.

  A rich, blissful fire coursed through her veins as his tongue probed her mouth. Her fingers crept to the nape of his neck, tentatively at first, and then she pressed closer, flattening her breasts against the steel of his chest. She clung to him blindly and heard her own moan of pleasure as his tongue delved again into her mouth.

  Her bones were melting. Her body was on fire as her own tongue darted out to meet his. He seemed to take possession of her, not only her mouth but also of her heart and mind. It was only a kiss, and yet it was also the most intimate act Cassie could ever imagine.

  And then he ended it.

  “Jess, no,” she whispered, as his hands closed over her forearms and pried her gently from his neck. “Don’t you want me?”

  “Dear God, of course I do.” The tanned skin around his eyes crinkled as a pained grimace twisted his mouth. His breath came in ragged gasps, and he swayed as he leaned against the kitchen counter. “More than anything, I. . .but I can’t. We can’t.”

  “Why not?” She could think of a million answers to her own question, but a shameless surge of desire overpowered her ability to reason. She grabbed the belt loops on his jeans and pulled him closer. “Jess, I--”

  His fingers brushed her cheek, just under her bruise. “Darlin’, you’re upset, you’re running from something, and I can’t take advantage of that. Still, if I thought--if I thought you might stay for a while--”

  He paused, the unasked question hanging between them. Cassie turned her head, avoiding his eyes. She couldn’t lie to him, not about something so important. He took her silence as answer enough.

  “It’s late,” he said, turning sharply away. “You should get to bed. I’ll get up for the next feeding.”

  “No, I can--”

  “I said I’d do it.” His voice was rough, edged with anger. “You’ve been up the last two nights. I’ll take care of the kits.”

  Her shoulders slumped as she fought back the sob rising in her throat. Her first attempt at seduction, and she’d made a royal mess of it. Jess was right, of course. She ought to thank him for his honorable behavior. Instead, she almost wished she’d stowed away with a slightly less ethical cowboy.

  “All right,” she said quietly. “If that’s the way you want it.”

  When Jess rose at 6 a.m. to feed the raccoons, he found two of the kits already whining for their breakfast. The third lay stiff and cold on the towel. Jess’s heart sank. He swore under his breath as he leaned against the bookshelf. The news would hit Cassie hard. Hell, it wasn’t easy for him, either. He’d been rooting for the little critter.

  Cassie appeared behind him, a vision in the old-fashioned, floor-length white nightgown. “Jess? What’s wrong?”

  He clenched his fists to keep from reaching out and taking her in his arms. Last night’s kiss had threatened to undo his resolve, but he knew he was right to keep his distance. That soul-wrenching, heartbreaking kiss--the sweetness of it still lingered on his mouth. Cassie’s touch had left a flaming imprint on his body and his mind.

  “It’s the one you named Angel,” he said. “Looks like she didn’t make it through the night.”

  “Oh!” Quick tears shone in Cassie’s eyes. “Is she really--”

  Jess nodded. Cassie blinked, and more tears spilled down her cheeks. They traced wet paths to her chin and splashed on the lace-edged gown. “I should have done more,” she said, in a strangled little voice. “Maybe there was some way to help her. . . .”

  Cassie’s anguished expression cut into Jess’s heart. He reached out and brushed a stray lock of hair from her face, then tucked it behind one delicate ear. “I know it’s hard,” he said, “but we did the best we could. Sometimes things like this just happen. It’s no one’s fault.”

  Cassie bit her lip and lifted her chin. Tears now spangled her dark, spiky lashes and glistened like tiny sequins. “But it’s not fair. Oh, Jess, it’s just not fair.”

  Against his better judgment, Jess gathered her into his arms. She fit so perfectly there, with her face pressed against his shoulder. While there was nothing sexual in the embrace, for Jess it was just as intimate as the kiss they’d shared. He felt more connected to Cassie at this moment than he had to any woman he’d made love to. The realization both warmed him and left him shaken.

  Finally, the storm passed. Cassie raised her head. Despite her runny nose and blotchy cheeks, she looked beautiful as ever. “I guess you think I’m crazy, don’t you?” she asked as she accepted a handkerchief from his dresser drawer and blew her nose into it. “Crying like that over such a little bit of a thing?”

  “I don’t think you’re crazy. First time I lost one of my wild babies, I cried for an hour at least.”

  Her eyes widened as she stared at him, apparently trying to imagine such a thing. “You did? Back when you were a kid, you mean?”

  Jess chuckled softly, but his throat constricted at the memory. “Nope. Four years ago. A fawn. Some damn fool hunter went and shot a doe. Tried to kill the fawn, too, but he only grazed her shoulder.”

  “Did the fawn die from the wound?”

  Jess shook his head. “It was just a scratch. No, she died of. . .of shock, I guess. Or loneliness. A lot of times that’s what happens, and there’s not a thing in the world you can do about it.”

  Cassie peered into the animal carrier at Angel’s small, still form. Jess reached inside, picked up the body, and cradled it in his palm. The kit’s eyes and ears were still sealed tight, her mask only a faint blur of shadow on her tiny face.

  “Should I bury her myself,” he asked, “or do you want to do it together?”

  “Together,” Cassie said. She scrubbed at her face with the heel of her palm. “We’ll have a proper funeral, and invite Tanya, too.”

  That was just what they did. Jess donated a small wooden box he’d carved the previous winter. Cassie lined the box with si
lk from Jess’s one necktie, which he never wore anyway. Tanya came over before school. The little girl solemnly officiated at the ceremony.

  They buried Angel in the apple orchard. Cassie and Tanya shed gallons of tears, and Jess himself grew a little misty when his turn came to say a few words.

  “We didn’t get time to know the--um, the dearly departed very well,” he began, bowing his head, “but she was a scrappy little raccoon, that’s for sure. She wanted to live, to open her eyes and see the world, to grow up with her two brothers. We’re all sorry that didn’t get to happen.” Jess cleared his throat. “I don’t know for sure, but I’d like to think Angel is someplace better now. Someplace with lots of woods to explore, and all the grubs and berries she can eat.”

  He raised his head. Cassie’s bright but watery smile greeted him, and she took his arm lightly as they traipsed back to the cabin. Jess cooked pancakes, with more success this time. After a visit with Scamp and Rascal, Tanya, too, seemed much more cheerful.

  After Tanya headed off to the school bus, Jess relaxed on the porch for a while. Cassie, though, never slowed down. He shook his head and smiled in amusement to hear her clanging around in the kitchen, allegedly cleaning up. For all her housekeeping efforts, his cabin had never been messier. She was like a hurricane--a bright, cheerful, energetic, lovely little hurricane, but still a certified natural disaster.

  He dozed in the rocking chair, the sun on his face. When he woke, Cassie was calling his name. She stood beside him in a pair of too-baggy jeans, one of his blue chambray work shirts, and a pair of gardening gloves from the shed. Soil clung to her clothes. A long smear of damp earth streaked her left cheek, but her face glowed and her eyes snapped gray fire.

  “Jess, wake up,” she said. “I’ve got a surprise for you.”

  He sighed, stretched, and rolled his head from side to side to chase the kinks from his neck. Why did Cassie’s announcement make him uneasy? He grabbed for his crutches and pulled himself up. “A surprise? Where?”