Rancher’s Christmas Storm by Maisey Yates
Four
Honey managed to find the root cellar, and in it the evaporative coolers. There were vegetables in there, remarkably well-preserved. Which only reinforced her theory that the house had been intended to receive visitors.
She hummed as she dug around for food, trying not to overthink the moment that had happened in the living room.
She really hadn’t given a lot of thought to this whole situation with Jericho and the Daltons.
But then, she didn’t know what to make of it. And they didn’t exactly confide in each other. Mostly they just...bickered.
Because he made her feel strange, and if she wasn’t saying something, they were sitting in silence, and she didn’t like sitting in silence with him.
She found bacon and eggs, and some potatoes, and decided to go with breakfast for dinner. Unfortunately there was no pop can of biscuits, which would’ve made everything complete, and she wasn’t about to go scrounging around for baking supplies.
There was a basket sitting by the door of the root cellar, and she grabbed hold of it, put her spoils inside and walked back up the stairs to the main level of the house.
The whole place was beautiful. High-gloss logs that built a sturdy, impressive-looking house. She just couldn’t understand why anybody would choose to put a house this beautiful right out in the middle of nowhere with no amenities. Though, she supposed these were amenities. They were just a lot more work than the amenities she was used to.
She walked into the kitchen, and he was standing there, stripped down to a T-shirt, stoking the fire underneath the woodstove. His brown skin gleamed in the light, his muscles shifting with each movement.
He took her breath away.
And that was silly. She really needed to get a hold of herself.
“Breakfast for dinner,” she said, lifting the basket.
“Perfect,” he said.
“I did find ketchup.”
“Well, that is the important thing.”
“Absolutely. You can’t have eggs or hash browns without a whole bunch of ketchup.”
“On that we agree.”
“Well, glad to know there’s something. Maybe the secret to world peace is ketchup.”
“Somehow I doubt it.”
“What would it be then?”
He frowned. “Ranch dressing?”
“They don’t have ranch dressing everywhere.”
“All the more reason to use it as an agent of world change. People just need to know about ranch dressing,” he said.
“Also true.”
His dark brows shot up. “Two agreements in under a minute. We may survive this.”
“Yeah, and I have bacon in this basket. So...” He chuckled. He straightened and crossed his forearms over his broad chest.
Her heart thundered.
“I turned on the generator. For the bathroom. So, all that’s functional. And if you want to shower...”
“Oh,” she said, suddenly feeling a little bit fluttery. “Thank you. That’s great.”
“As far as I can tell, it’s got enough gasoline to run for a bit. But we probably don’t want to run it constantly.”
“The appeal of off-grid living escapes me,” she said.
“I have to say, I like a modern amenity.”
“Careful, I’m going to start thinking we’re friends.”
“Oh, God forbid.”
She forced a smile, then started to root around through the cabinets, producing a frying pan, some cooking oil and the cheese grater. She found a potato peeler and stuck it in Jericho’s hand. “Care to make yourself useful?”
“Amend that,” he said. “I have been very useful this entire time.”
She rolled her eyes. “Oh certainly,” she said.
He moved alongside of her, grabbing the potatoes and starting to peel them into the trash. His muscular forearms flexed and shifted, and she did her best not to be distracted by it. And she did her best to ignore it while she sliced the bacon off the slab—which she had never done before—and cracked the eggs into a bowl, whisking them around.
It was a little bit of a learning curve, figuring out how to get everything onto the stove without burning it or causing huge drama, but owing to the basic nature of the meal, she managed to put together something nice. The dishes were camp plates. Blue tin with white speckles, and she found herself overwhelmed by nostalgia holding on to them. She couldn’t even quite say why.
Until an image came into her head of her mother sitting at the table in the kitchen, holding a mug made of the same material. She smiled. “My mom used to like this kind of thing.”
“Living off-grid?”
“No, these camp dishes.” Her heart squeezed, and the image in her head got fuzzy around the edges. “My memories of her are so thin. I wish there were more. I wish I’d understood I was losing her so I would have held on to every memory more than I did.”
“I’m sorry. From what I remember of her, she was great,” he said. “I...I was glad I got to know her even if it was for a short amount of time.”
She cleared her throat. “Yeah. I’m glad too. She really loved you, you know.”
“That’s how I met your brothers, you know.”
“How?”
“Because both of our moms were sick. That sucked. And of course at school... That was something people talked about. Then I lost my mom. I related to what they were going through with your mom’s illness... It’s not a great thing to be bonded over, that’s for sure. Because it just kind of sucks.”
“Yeah,” she said. “It does.”
“But your dad... He found out about my living situation, and he took me in. I don’t know if you realize just how much I depended on your family.”
She frowned. “No. I didn’t. I didn’t think about it. It was just that one day you didn’t really leave.”
“Well, if not for your dad, I was either going to have to figure out becoming an emancipated minor or possibly going into the system. And I didn’t really relish that. He became my legal guardian... He made sure that I had everything I wanted. He did what Hank Dalton never did. He was like a father to me.”
“Jericho...” Guilt twisted her. Because she hadn’t realized all this. She’d been a kid, and she’d been consumed with the changes in her own family, and of course consumed with the fact that she thought he was handsome. And the associated torture therein.
She had never really thought about his losses. About the strangeness of his relationship to Hank Dalton. About...
You’ve never thought about him as a person. He’s been an object. There to be good-looking to you, irritating to you...
Yeah. Well, turns out he wasn’t exactly the crappiest person in their relationship. It was her. It left her feeling rocked. Because she had spent so much time absolutely certain no one understood her. But how much of an effort had she ever made to really understand the people around her?
She was sure she was stoic because they all simply were.
Were they also trying to protect her? Protect themselves?
“I’m sorry that I never thought about that,” she whispered, the words coming out raspy. “It’s pretty much inexcusable.”
“It’s fine, Honey.”
Her chest felt sore, and her heart was beating hard. She didn’t like it. “No. I’ve been a brat to you. Always.”
He stared at her, long and hard. “You know I never forgot. That you are just a little girl who lost her mom the way that I did. I didn’t forget. Because I’m older than you. Because I got to have some perspective along with my grief. You were a kid. And...”
“I’m not a kid now. And it seems that I haven’t done a very good job of recognizing...the full picture of things.”
“I think that’s pretty normal.”
“Stop absolving me for being a jerk. I don’t deserve it.”
“Since when is any of this about what we deserve.”
“I don’t know. I just know that... I should’ve been a better friend.”
“You’re a pretty good friend. You made some bacon.”
“Yeah, well you saved my life. What if you hadn’t of happened by? I would be completely stuck in my truck in this blizzard. Nowhere to go. No cell service, no hope of rescue. Because at a certain point people that were smarter than us got off the road.”
“Well, I did happen by. And here we are.”
She looked around. “Yeah. Here we are.”
“I guess there’s not really much to do up here.”
“There’s some bookshelves.”
“Yeah, I noticed that. Maybe I’ll finally get around to reading Lord of the Rings.”
She wrinkled her nose. “I think I’ll stick with the field guide of birds that I saw earlier.”
“Birds, huh?”
Why couldn’t he just let her find a thing to do to distract herself so they didn’t have to talk?
She sniffed. “I like birds, Jericho.”
“Like particularly, or in comparison to how much you like hobbits?”
She huffed a laugh. “No. I like birds.”
“What’s to like about birds?”
“They’re...cute. Or majestic. Or menacing. Birds can be all three. I admire it.” Then she added, “I aspire to it.”
“They’re also good fried,” he said.
She scowled. “Yes. But that isn’t... I’m not reading a recipe book. I am reading a field guide.”
“Well, enjoy your field guide.”
“Perhaps I will.”
They finished eating, and she gave thanks for the running water, rinsing off all the plates while Jericho dried and put them away. Then they retreated to the living room, where they had built a big fire, and she pretended to peruse the illustrated guide to birds while he did a good impression of somebody reading a thick fantasy novel.
And really, she was just suddenly overwhelmed. By the isolation. By his proximity.
By the fact that she had intended to be with another man tonight. Losing her virginity.
And suddenly the idea made her feel strung out. On edge.
Suddenly it made her feel... Way too much of everything. She also thought of her suitcase, which was currently full of lingerie.
And she swallowed hard.
She turned her focus to the Mott Mott. Which was an interesting enough bird. But not half as interesting as the intrusive thoughts swirling around in her head. Which should not be interesting, but problematic. Very, very problematic.
“Well,” she said. “I’m sleepy.”
“It’s probably about that time,” he said.
“We’ll let the fire die out.”
“Oh.”
“I started one upstairs a bit ago.”
“Oh good.”
Except her throat was dry, and it didn’t particularly feel good. It felt...like something, and it shouldn’t feel like something. They were just out here surviving together. There was nothing happening. No undertone to the offer of preparing beds and fireplaces.
She followed him upstairs, and it took a moment for things to begin to dawn on her fully.
“Wait... You started one?”
“The other bedrooms don’t have fireplaces,” he said. “If you want to stay warm... This is the room.”
He pushed the door open and revealed a master bedroom, with a roaring fire and a massive bed covered in blankets and furs.
“Oh but...”
“It’s not a big deal,” he said. “It’s a huge bed.”
“But...”
“Is it a problem?”
A thousand thoughts cascaded through her head. Yes, it was a problem. She had never shared a bed with a man in her life, and now she was supposed to sleep next to the most beautiful man she’d ever known. Now she was supposed to... What the hell? How was she going to survive this? How was she going to survive this?
“You seem bothered,” he said.
She did her best not to sputter outrageously. “I am unbothered.”
“I brought your suitcase up too. If you want to get in some pajamas.”
She thought about the pajamas she had brought. All of a rather lacy nature. Because she had been planning on...
She swallowed hard.
“You know. I think I’m just going to sleep in this. For warmth.”
“Suit yourself.”
“Do you need to... You need to change into...pajamas?”
He fixed her with a hard stare, his dark eyebrows lifted. “No. I think I’ll stick with this.”
“It’s okay...”
“I don’t wear pajamas, Honey.”
“You don’t...”
He slept naked.
The truth slammed into her hard. And she felt it between her legs. Oh gosh. She was failing at not making this sexual. This thing that would never be sexual to him because of course he didn’t feel that way about her at all.
“Well, then.” She coughed. “Stay in your jeans.”
“Somehow I thought that might be your stance.”
She decided she just better rip the Band-Aid off. She got into the bed quickly, lifting at the edge of one of the furs and sliding beneath it, huddling on one edge of the bed.
It was so warm. It was luxurious. There had been a slight chill to everything, and the quilt, combined with the furs, took the edge off.
She was far enough on one side of the king-size bed that she didn’t even feel it when Jericho got in.
She gave thanks for that. If she stayed on her edge, she should be all right.
She closed her eyes and tried to make her breathing sound normal. Tried not to sound like somebody who was faking being asleep.
“I’ll tend the fire.”
She opened one eye. “You don’t have to do that by yourself.”
“It’s no big deal.”
“But it’s not... I mean...”
“Honey, don’t worry about it. Get some sleep. If this turns into a multiday thing, then we may have to have conversations about who’s manning the fire and who’s not. But right now... We don’t need to make a big deal out of it.”
“Oh. Okay.”
“Get some sleep. Because tomorrow is going to be a full-time job to keep ourselves warm. And fed.”
“Hopefully the snow will have stopped by then.” How long could it possibly do this? It had to stop. Tomorrow it would warm up and things would melt.
It had to.
“Hopefully. But I don’t have any way to check the forecast. So I’ve a feeling we’ll be walking down to check the road intermittently.”
“Yeah.” She sighed. “You know, nobody’s even going to realize that we are missing except for the Daltons. And since they’re just going to think that you blew them off...”
“I know. Thankfully your truck is sitting there closer to town than mine. So, it’s possible that somebody will realize.”
She blinked. “Right.”
But neither of them said what they were both thinking, which was that they might be stuck here for a pretty long time. And that if they were, there wasn’t going to be a whole hell of a lot that they could do about it.
They were just going to have to be very comfortable with each other.
And on that note, she curled up as close to the edge of the mattress as she possibly could. And closed her eyes tight.
