Rocky Mountain Miracle (12 page)

“Cole, I was terrified to go into his office. I waited a week after he died, then when I pulled the maps out, I couldn't make myself take them to my room. I folded them carefully and put them back in the drawer in his desk.”

Cole decided the kid looked scared. “Jase.” His voice was very gentle. “Brett Steele is dead, and his ghost can't do a damned thing to us. It certainly didn't remove maps from his office. You have to stop reading those books.”

“I didn't think about Justine or Ben taking anything,” Jase admitted with a small sigh of relief. “That makes more sense.”

“Why were you interested in the maps, Jase?”

Jase pushed the last bite of burrito around on his plate with his fork. “The ranch is so big, and I hated that all the workers knew every canyon and peak and I had no idea what they were talking about. They'd be talking about the cattle being in some canyon; I'd ask where it was, and they'd laugh at me. I hated that. I hated feeling so small and stupid all the time. I was the boss's son, and they knew more than I did.”

Cole swore savagely under his breath, his back to the boy. Every little hurt added more to Jase's feelings of inadequacy. The old man had purposely made him look small in front of the ranch hands, belittling him and correcting him, even publicly humiliating and punishing him every chance he got. Cole knew without Jase's telling him, because he'd received the same treatment.

“I'll find you maps of the ranch, Jase,” he promised gruffly. “Even if I have to draw them myself.”

“Thanks, Cole.” Jase stood up and carried his plate to the sink. “Has the doc been up a long time?”

Cole inhaled the scent of fresh coffee. “Yeah, she's been up a while. She's out there with that horse of yours. Go on, I'll take care of cleanup this morning.” Cole waved the boy out, not wanting to face Maia yet. She'd disarmed him without even trying, filling the house with the fragrance
of breakfast, giving him an unfamiliar sense of warmth and home. He sat there for a moment contemplating that. He'd never felt as if he'd had a home before.

When he woke up that morning he'd been instantly aware that Maia Armstrong was in his house. Not just any woman, but Maia Armstrong. He never let a woman spend the night with him, and he always left their houses immediately after sex. With Maia, everything seemed different, but he couldn't put his finger on why. It wasn't the fact that he'd awakened with a hell of a hard-on from the erotic dream he'd had about her, instead of waking from the usual nightmare, tangled in his sheets with a gun in his hand. It was because she'd brought a sense of home to the monstrosity of a house he occupied.

He had awakened looking forward to the day and he hadn't experienced that feeling very often. He had lain there, staring at the ceiling, his heart pounding and his mouth dry, terrified that Maia Armstrong could do that to him. Make him happy by just being in his house. By making a building seem like a home just with her presence. By removing the endless nightmares and replacing them with dreams of her. Her smile. She had a killer smile. Her eyes went soft, almost mesmerizing. The sound of her laughter. It seemed to vibrate through his body, wrap around him until it squeezed his heart and lungs.

He swore out loud, jumping up fast enough to knock over his chair and turning around in the huge kitchen without a real purpose. She was getting under his skin. He should have found a way to seduce her last night and get it over with; instead, he'd revealed intimate, private details he never should have admitted. She had ammunition to
use against him, and he'd given it to her. “Oh, you're good, lady,” he said. “What are you after?” He picked up the chair, slamming it against the table.

Immediately he was ashamed of himself. What was he thinking she wanted? Him? She'd made it clear she had no intention of sleeping with him. His money? That would entail some kind of a relationship with him. He threw a plate into the soapy water, avoiding the dishwasher. Suds and water splashed over the edge of the sink. He needed a damned housekeeper, not a girlfriend.

“Cole!” Jase burst threw the kitchen door, slamming it back on its frame so hard it nearly bounced. “Come quick. The doc fell and hit her head.”

Cole rushed past him, his heart in his throat. “How the hell did that happen?”

“I don't know, I found her on the walkway. There's ice all around her.”

“Ice?” Cole sprinted along the covered walkway. There was snow piled high on either side and more flakes were coming down rapidly. The walkways had been specifically constructed with a wide overhang to keep any water from running down onto the surface for the very purpose of keeping ice from forming. The latticework and snow, piled so high on either side, kept the wind and drafts at bay, forming a warmer tunnel for them to use in going back and forth between the various buildings.

Maia lay sprawled on the ground, one hand at the back of her head. Cole could see the bright red blood staining the white snow underneath her. He crouched beside her, catching her hand gently and drawing it away from the wound. “Let me see.”

She looked up at him, her wide eyes dazed and slightly
unfocused. “I just slipped. It wasn't icy when I came out here, and I didn't notice the surface.”

Cole felt the lump on her head through the mass of thick dark hair. It was sticky with blood. He studied the walkway. There was no dripping water that could have caused the snow to ice over the way it had. The surface was slick with a layer of ice, almost as if someone had sprayed water over it. He studied the latticework. A few drops of ice clung to the wood just about level with his waist. “Don't move, Doc, just lie still while I take a look at you.”
Jase was the only person around.
He swore silently. He didn't want to think the boy could in any way be like their father, but his own past and his job gave him a suspicious nature. He had to eliminate Jase as a suspect. There were ranch hands—even Al—living on the ranch and even in a blizzard one of them could have arranged the “accident.”

He glanced once more at Jase. The boy looked so anxious, every instinct Cole possessed told him he couldn't possibly have sprayed the water on the walkway to make it icy.

“The fall just stunned me for a minute.”

“Did you get knocked out? Jase, was she out for any length of time?”

“She swore a lot,” Jase reported.

“Did she now? I wasn't sure you knew how to swear,” Cole said, looking down into Maia's eyes. It was a big mistake. A man could lose himself there. He couldn't look away from her. He bent his head and brushed a kiss across her mouth to break the spell.

Her eyelashes fluttered, and she managed to glare at him. “I work with animals, believe me, I know how to swear. And was that another apology?”

“Sheer desperation.”

“You do look a bit desperate,” Maia conceded, struggling to sit up. “And I didn't lose consciousness. I think I knocked the wind out of myself, and my head hurts pretty bad, but if you'll help me up, I'll be fine.”

“I'm going to lift you, Doc. Just put your arms around my neck. Jase, watch your step, the surface is icy, and we don't need another accident.”

“I've never seen the walkway ice over before,” Jase said. “Maybe there was rain or slush coming down with the snow.”

“Maybe,” Cole conceded, but the temperature was far too cold for rain or slush, and they both knew it. “Just stay close until I can take a look around, Jase.” He lifted Maia into his arms, holding her against his chest. Her skin was cool after being outdoors for so long. She was heavier than he expected, her muscles solid and firm. He felt the tension in her the moment he cradled her close. The same faint fragrance of peaches and rain he'd noticed the night before clung to her skin and hair.

“I can walk,” she protested. She tried to hold herself rigidly away from him. “I'm ruining your shirt.” Maia felt silly being carried by Cole Steele. If her head hadn't been throbbing with enough intensity to make her teeth ache she would have insisted on walking.

“Relax, Doc, I have a lot of shirts, and there's only one of you. I don't give a damn about the shirt.”

“That's a good thing, because it's a mess already.” She tried to move her head to keep the blood from dripping onto his shirt.

Cole made a single sound of impatience and she subsided, trying to relax against him in spite of her embarrassment.
Jase skirted around the ice and hurried ahead to open the door. “I'll get blankets,” he called over his shoulder.

Cole carried her to the oversized couch, placing her with care in the middle of the cushions. “When you went to the barn this morning, you're positive there was no ice on the walkway?”

Maia looked up at the concern on his face. His voice was low, obviously to keep Jase from overhearing. “It was easy to get to the barn. I remember thinking everyone should have a walkway like that. Most ranches in the outlying areas use rope or cable as a guideline when it's snowing.”

“We've got cable up in places,” Cole said. He took the ice pack and washcloth from Jase as the boy hurried up to them. “Thanks, Jase. The doc's going to be fine. She just looks a little pale. Women do that to give men heart attacks.”

Maia laughed. Cole should have known she would in spite of her injuries, but he wasn't at all prepared for the sound filling the space around them. His space. It was always there, between him and everyone else, but she didn't seem to see it, and she put things there like her laughter. She was definitely getting under his skin, and it made him edgier than usual.

“Well, I don't think you should, Doc,” Jase chastised, his hand over his heart, “because I was really scared.”

“I'm sorry, Jase. I didn't see the ice. I guess I wasn't looking. And just for your information . . . Ow!” Maia pulled her head away and glared at Cole as he dabbed at the cut on her head. “That hurts.”

“Stop being such a baby.” Cole was extraordinarily gentle
as he wiped away the blood. There was an unfamiliar lump in his throat. All the while he was turning over possibilities in his mind. Had someone sprayed the walkway with water in order to cause Maia harm? Who could have done such a thing? He needed to take a closer look at Al and his wife. Find out if anyone had been visiting. Perhaps Fred had stayed with them instead of going home to his family.

“Does it really hurt, Doc?” Jase asked, frowning at Cole.

“I'm fine,” Maia assured. “He's being gentle. I feel a little stupid falling on my head.” She wasn't going to mention the bruises all over her backside. Cole's face was very close to hers, and she could see his long lashes, the bluish shadowing along his jaw, the tiny lines etched into his weathered features. His gaze met hers and her heartbeat accelerated instantly. “You're lethal.” She didn't mean to say it aloud. She had to blame the bump on her head. It knocked out her good sense.

“Yes I am,” Cole warned. “Don't forget it.”

Maia looked up at Jase and burst out laughing a second time. “At least I'm not the only one saying dumb things. Your horse, by the way, is doing great, Jase. No temp, the drains are working, and I gave him his antibiotic shots, so he's fine for the time being. I didn't feed him, so you'll have to do that. And I want to move him to a small enclosure where he can get around without hurting himself. The trick is to get him to walk enough to keep the swelling down, but not so much that he pulls out the sutures or does more damage.”

“I still have to feed the other horses this morning,” Jase said. “I told Al I'd do it so he wouldn't have to risk driving in the storm. We knew the storm would be bad, so I'll take
care of the stables, then let Wally into the small round pen inside the big barn. I can feed him there, unless you just want him to exercise a couple of times a day.”

“I'll feed the horses, Jase,” Cole said. “Give me a few minutes with the doc here to get her settled, and I'll go make the rounds.”

“I don't mind, Cole,” Jase objected. “I can do the job.”

Cole scowled and opened his mouth to make it a command, but Maia deterred him, touching his wrist with her fingertips. When he glanced at her she shook her head slightly and turned her head to smile up at Jase. “Actually, I was hoping you'd stay with me for a little while so we could come up with a plan for Wally.” Her smile widened until it lit her eyes. “I think the name suits him. He likes it.”

“Did he tell you that?” Cole asked, his voice edged with sarcasm.

“As a matter of fact, he did. What do you say, Jase? Let the grouch feed the horses this morning, and we'll map out a plan of action for Wally.”

“You may as well plan Christmas for us too.” Cole made the suggestion to forestall Jase's protest that the horse wasn't anything special to him. His heart jumped, slamming hard against the wall of his chest in protest. He would have taken the proposal back, but the boy suddenly looked hopeful.

Maia's fingers tightened on his wrist. He hoped to hell she had no idea what the turn in the conversation cost him. Cole refused to meet her eyes, instead busying himself with getting the matted blood from her hair so he could see the wound.

“You sure you didn't try ice-skating,” he said gruffly as he looked at the laceration.

A faint smile softened the lines around her mouth. “I've always wanted to learn, but it wasn't my intention.”

“I can take her ice-skating if she wants to go,” Jase volunteered. “There's a pond that freezes over every winter. It's great for ice-skating.”

Cole glanced at the boy's face. He was staring at Maia as if she were a goddess. He sighed and leaned down, his mouth against her ear, his lips brushing her skin. “Tone it down before the boy asks you to marry him.” The faint scent of peaches in her hair triggered a heat flash that seemed to spread through his veins straight to his belly and centered in his groin.