he snapped. “And sit still, will you?”
He dropped her off at the back door to the house, then took his horse to the barn. In no hurry to join the woman waiting in the kitchen, he took his time in unsaddling his mount and drying him off. Only when the horse had been fed, watered and put away for the night did he step to the open doorway and look across the open ground at the house.
Bright light spilled out of the windows, layering the ground’s puddled water with brilliant splashes of color. He turned his head to look at the guest house, two hundred yards away. The lights there were off but for a single lamp left burning in what he knew was the living room. The blue Ford pickup was gone from the front of the house.
So, the foreman and his wife had gone into town despite the storm.
That left him and Casey entirely too alone for comfort.
And he couldn’t get rid of her anytime soon, either. With his Jeep not working and the pickup gone for who knew how long, they were stuck together.
Dammit, why did she have to show up here? And why was she still able to take his breath away with a single glance?
Grumbling at his own foolishness, he stepped out of the barn, shut the double doors behind him and walked into the wind and rain. He crossed the yard slowly, as if hoping the cold would erase the spark of heat she’d created when she’d wrapped her arms around him. But it didn’t help. The fire in his blood remained, and as he recalled the feel of her legs pressed along his own, his body tightened uncomfortably. Halfway to the house, he stopped dead and tilted his head back to glare at the stormy sky.
Hard heavy rain pummeled his face and chest. A cold fierce wind rushed around him, tugging at his coat with frigid fingers. He squinted against the icy pellets and noticed an occasional spot of feathery white drifting down toward him.
Perfect.
Snow.
“What did I ever do to you?” he demanded hoarsely of a silent heaven.
The snowflakes thickened amidst the raindrops.
Jake straightened, shook his head, then loped across the muddy ground to the back porch. He stripped off his slicker and snapped it in the air, shaking off most of the water. Then he dropped it onto the closest chair, stomped the mud from his boots and opened the door to meet trouble face-to-face.
She was standing in front of the kiva fireplace staring into the flames still dancing across the logs he’d laid earlier in the afternoon.
“You’re shivering,” he said lamely, and she turned to look at him.
“I’m warmer than I was.”
Maybe. But her teeth were chattering. His gaze swept over the sodden once-beautiful white dress, and he wondered again about the mysteriously missing groom. What kind of idiot would let a woman like this escape him at his own wedding?
Wet fabric clung to her like a determined lover, outlining her small breasts and the curve of her hips. What should have been a full skirt now hung straight down her legs, wrapping her in a blanket of muddy lace.
A sharp pain pierced his chest as he let himself actually think about her being married to someone else. But in the next instant he buried the pain. What was done was done. He’d made his decision five years ago and he still believed it had been the right one.
No matter what it had cost him.
He lifted his gaze to hers, pushed both hands through his wet hair and said gruffly, “What are you doing here, Casey?”
She sniffed, snatched her veil from her head and twisted it between her hands. Dirty water streamed from the sodden netting. “I came to see Annie.”
“Oh.” His sister. He nodded. Of course she was there to see Annie, you idiot. Why in hell would she have come to see him? He inhaled deeply, blew the air out of his lungs with a rush and said, “Annie doesn’t live here anymore.” At her questioning look, he added. “She moved back to town about six months ago.”
“Stupid,” Casey muttered, and gripped her soggy veil more tightly. Shifting her gaze back to the fire, she said, more to herself than to him, “I should have known that she’d want to be back out on her own as quickly as possible.”
She darted a quick look at him and he saw disappointment shadowing her eyes.
“How’s she doing?”
“Pretty well.” He lifted one shoulder in a halfhearted shrug. “You know Annie. Divorce is hard on anyone, but she’ll be OK.”
“I know she will.”
“Yeah. I made it. She will, too.”
“That’s right.” She straightened slightly and turned those green eyes on him. “Annie told me about your divorce. I’m sorry, Jake.”
Discomfort rattled through him briefly as he looked into her eyes and saw sympathy and understanding. He shifted uneasily under her steady regard and wished she would change the subject. He didn’t want to discuss Linda with her or anyone else. In fact, except for the valuable lesson Linda had taught him, he preferred to forget all about her.
“It was a long time ago,” he said.
“Not so long. Only three years.”
His gaze narrowed. Hell, he hadn’t seen Casey in five years, but apparently his little sister kept the woman up to date on his life. “Is there anything Annie left out?”
“Not much,” she admitted.
“Remind me to have a talk with my sister, huh?”
“How’s Lisa?”
A small smile erased Jake’s frown. Happened every time he thought about his three-year-old niece. It was simply impossible not to smile when thinking about the little terror.
“She’s great. Driving Annie nuts.”
For a too-brief moment Casey’s smile joined his. “I haven’t seen her in so long I probably wouldn’t even recognize her.” Her smile faded. “What about Lisa’s father?”
He stiffened and unconsciously his hands curled into fists. As thoughts of Lisa could bring a smile, thoughts of her no-good father gave birth to sudden bursts of rage.
“Like you, he’s been gone so long he wouldn’t know his own daughter. Unlike you, he wouldn’t care.”
“That’s a shame.”
“Among other things.”
Long silent minutes passed, and the only sounds were the rain drumming on the tiled roof and the snap and hiss of the fire. Finally Casey broke the tension-filled quiet.
“I don’t suppose you could give me a ride to town?”
“Can’t.”
“Why not?”
He frowned and shook his head. “Jeep’s broken down and my foreman used the pickup to take his wife dancing. From the looks of this storm, they probably won’t make it back until morning.”
She stared at him as if she couldn’t believe what he was saying. Well, he wasn’t thrilled with the situation, either. She would just have to get used to it.
“Surely you have more than one Jeep and one truck on a ranch this size.”
“Well, now,” he drawled deliberately, “I surely do, ma’am. But I’m afraid my city car wouldn’t fare any better than your car did in this mud.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah, oh.”
“Can this day possibly get any worse?” she muttered.
“It’s snowing,” he offered.
A short strangled laugh shot from her throat. “Of course it is.”