makes me all kinds of crazy. I was just thinking about how infuriating it is when she eats my baked goods.”
“I’ll have you know I’m the best baker in—” She covered her mouth when a gleeful laugh bubbled free. “Did you hear that? I’m not sure how I know, or even where I stash my prized pink KitchenAid mixer, but I know I’m a baker—and I like pink.”
“This is good,” he said, collecting wood for a fire. “Is anything else coming to mind? Do you specialize in pies or cake or cookies? Please, God, let it be cookies.” His laugh felt shockingly good—and real. As real as his love for oatmeal scotchies and snickerdoodles.
“I’m not sure. Maybe? That might make sense since the first name that popped into my head for this little guy was Chip.”
“That’s a logical assumption. And shoot, I never met a cookie I didn’t like. I’ll bet you make them for gifts—you know, for your family and neighbors.” He dumped his latest load of wood next to the stone ring he’d previously made.
“That sounds nice.”
“Yes, it does.”
Call him crazy, but relief shimmered through him over the fact that her mood had returned to her formerly perky self. He liked her better smiley than moping. A double standard considering his own mood swings over the course of their journey. But now that they’d cleared the air between them, and he’d had his say about the fact that they were destined to be acquaintances—nothing more—his spirit felt lighter. With her not expecting anything from him, he felt more at ease.
Groundwork had been laid.
Rules of engagement firmly established.
“Thank you.” On her tiptoes, she pressed a sweet kiss to his cheek. It was no big deal. So why did his skin feel as hot as if he’d been branded?
“You’re welcome,” he said, “although I’m not sure what for. Regardless, no more of that, okay?”
“Of what?”
“You’re going to make me spell it out? That kiss, Jane. No more of that.”
“Don’t be silly.” She waved off his concern. “That wasn’t a real kiss. If I ever decided to really, truly lay one on you? I would hope you’d recognize the difference.”
* * *
JANE HADN’T MEANT to kiss Gideon. Just like she didn’t mean to flirt. But somehow their conversations naturally took that turn. Unlike him, she decided not to stress over it. Since she didn’t have a whole lot else going for her, what could a smidge of harmless flirtation hurt?
Plenty!
Her conscience was all too quick to remind her of the very real possibility that she could be married. But if that was the case, why didn’t she feel as if she’d made a lifelong commitment to the love of her life? Wouldn’t she at least have a vague recollection of such a momentous event?
Chip grew fitful, so while Gideon was off gathering more firewood, Jane ducked into the tent to feed her son.
The smell inside made her happy.
It was a comforting, somehow familiar scent—sunbaked nylon and the sweet smoky remains of countless campfires. The tent was large enough for three or four people. Why would she have packed such a large tent for only herself? Could she have had a friend, and they’d been injured?
Outside, the tumbling crash of firewood being dropped onto the growing woodpile made her call, “Gideon!”
“What’s wrong? Is the baby—oh.” He ducked into the tent. Upon catching a flash of her bare breasts, he blanched, then backed out. “Jane, we talked about that, too.”
“Sorry.” She drew a sweatshirt over herself and the baby for modesty. “I was so excited to run something past you that I forgot Chip was still nursing. Isn’t it wild? How a couple of days ago, I knew nothing about being a mom, yet now, I feel as if this precious guy has always been in my life.”
“That’s great,” he said with a hint of annoyance, voice muffled from having turned his back on her. “But what did you call me over for? You sounded as if it were urgent.”
“It is.” She explained her theory about the oversize tent.
“What do you think? Could I have been with someone else when I set off for my hike?”
“I guess it’s possible.” He scratched his head. “That theory’s just as plausible as anything else.”
“I thought so, too. But then that would mean someone else is out here—lost and hurt. Should we hike back to where you found me to check for any additional clues?”
“No. We stick to the plan. Get you and the baby to a hospital, then let professionals handle it from there.”
“O-okay.”
“What?” He looked back. “I’m growing way too familiar with that look of yours.”
“I’m tired of dead ends. When will one of our theories pan out?”
“In due time. Relax.”
“How?”
“I don’t often share this—hell, I haven’t even thought of it in years. But back in my swinging single days, I was known for giving magic massages.”
“Yeah?” She couldn’t help but laugh.
“Yuk it up. After cooking dinner, I was going to offer you one of my top-secret, patented shoulder rubs, but if you don’t want one, I—”
“Oh—I never said that. In fact, just as soon as Chip’s finished his meal, let’s go ahead and have ours. I’m excited to gain firsthand knowledge of your supposed skills.”
“That’s what all the ladies used to say.” Through the open tent flap, she watched him walk toward his impressive fire pit. The way he filled out his Wranglers was mighty impressive, too.
This more playful side of him was a charmer.
Jane closed her eyes, imagining a young Gideon, fresh out of basic training, out for a good time on a Friday night. Was he like this all the time back then? Unfettered by the emotional baggage that now seemed to have him on constant guard? What happened to him? Would she ever know?
Chip had finished, so Jane began the now-familiar task of closing her bra and other garments. She set the baby on top of her sleeping bag that she’d already rolled out, then dug into her pack for freeze-dried dinner packets to prepare.
She called to Gideon, “Craving beef stroganoff or chicken and rice?”
“Neither!” he said above the noise of his hatchet biting into a small downed pine. She glanced over her shoulder to find he’d removed his shirt and slung it over his shoulder. He’d worked up a sweat. His chest and washboard abs glistened in the sun.
Oh my. Her mouth went dry.
If she was a married woman, she shouldn’t be this attracted to a stranger. Yet there it was—an undeniable visceral pull toward this cowboy who’d saved her and her baby’s lives.
Determined to turn her focus to anything more productive, she worked on changing Chip’s makeshift diaper. What she wouldn’t give for a box of premoistened wipes...
She made do with the remains of her water bottle and a wad of paper towels, then swaddled him in preparation for cooler temperatures once the sun dipped below the neighboring mountain range.
Outside the tent, she found that Gideon thankfully was clothed, only his black leather cowboy hat didn’t exactly detract from his looks while he started the fire. Soon, woodsmoke flavored the air, and he’d rigged a tri-pole wooden support frame for his cast-iron pot.
“You’re really good at all of this.” She perched on one of the logs he’d dragged next to the fire.
“Given