Chapter Four
“Are you sure you can handle closing by yourself?” Maggie asked Jamie, for the third time.
“Yes, I’m sure.” A slim, youthful hand gave an exasperated wave. “Go. You don’t want to drive that mountain road in the dark.”
She had filled her employee in on her plans to drive out to her grandmother’s cabin and search for the missing recipe box. As her only worker, Jamie knew all about the blogger, and how important it was to get a good review.
“I’ve got this, Maggie. You better hurry up. I heard there’s going to be a big storm headed our way tonight,” the teenager said, as she printed out the nightly report from the register. “Could drop about three to six inches on us.”
“It’s springtime!” she exclaimed in horror.
Her young employee chuckled. “Welcome to Colorado, boss.”
Groaning, Maggie grabbed her purse and coat. She really needed that recipe box, and she preferred to get it before another snowstorm hit. Living her whole life, up until eight months ago, in Southern California, she never had to drive in anything worse than a light rain. The winter here had been brutal, and she opted for staying indoors during most of the snowfalls. She hated driving in snow.
For Pete’s sake, there were leaves budding on the trees. It was not supposed to snow in May!
“Fine. I’m going. You have your key?”
“It’s on my key ring. Now go. And watch out for wild animals. They’re starting to wake up and wander about again.”
Great. One more thing to add to the wonderful world of driving in the mountains. Mountain lions, deer, and bears, oh my!
“See you in the morning.” She waved as she left the store.
It was a fairly warm afternoon, by Rocky Mountain standards. She headed around back to where her used, blue Subaru Forester was parked. After driving around Peak Town for a month, she had realized her cute, little, red Mini Coupe just wouldn’t cut it on the mountain roads. Reluctantly, she’d gone to a dealership in Denver and traded it in for the car of Colorado. Everyone had a Subaru out here.
The drive up the mountainside to her grandmother’s cabin—now hers, she guessed—took longer than she anticipated. There were still patches of snow and ice on the road from the previous winter storm. Or maybe it had always been there.
Snow probably doesn’t even melt up here, she thought irritably.
The twists and turns eventually evened out to the straight road that led to the cabin. There were a number of them scattered about up on the mountain. Some were vacation rentals, others owned by Peak Town residents. Not many people came up here this time of year, but the cabin just down the road from Gran’s had smoke coming out of its chimney, so she guessed someone else had braved these roads, too.
She pulled up onto the dirt driveway in front of the small, one bedroom vacation home. Turning off her car, she stepped out and inhaled the fresh mountain air. Crappy weather or not, there was something about the air up in the mountains that cleansed the soul. In LA, the only air one could get not choked with smog was from a trendy oxygen bar.
Shutting the car door, Maggie made her way up the front steps. There was no lock on the door. Gran’s father had built this place back at the previous turn of the century. No one had locks out here back then. No one had them now either. The closest neighbor was about two miles away; close enough to get help if you needed, but far enough away for privacy. Bears were more of a worry than burglars, and bears didn’t bother with locks.
The door squeaked open. She would have to put some oil on that rusty hinge. A musty smell hit her in the face as she stepped into the cabin. And air out the place as well. There was no telling how long it had been since someone had been here. She’d not visited up here since she came back to Peak Town, and who knew when Gran had last come up before her death. An eighty-nine year old woman did not make mountain getaways a top priority.
“Okay, down to business,” she said aloud.
The place needed a thorough going over, but that would have to wait. Right now, she had to focus on her mission: Find the recipe box.
Best to start in the kitchen, the most logical place.
An hour later, she had searched the entire cabin top to bottom. It was small, so she figured there wouldn’t be many places to hide a box. Once again, her luck sucked. No recipe box. Not in the kitchen, living room, bedroom…heck, it wasn’t even in the bathroom.
Defeat hit her like a sucker punch to the gut and she flopped onto the old couch. She had been so sure the box had to be here. Where the hell else could it be?
Maybe she should just pack it in now, sell the shop, and go back to LA. Lizzy would give her job back in a heartbeat.
But Maggie didn’t want to go back to LA. There was nothing there for her anymore.
No. I came out here to start over, and that’s what I’m going to do!
Pumped up by her little pep talk, she rose from the couch and prepared to leave. That’s when she noticed one of the stones in the fireplace mantel looked slightly off color to the rest. Curious, she walked to the fireplace and tapped. The stone shifted slightly under her fingers. Heartbeat racing, she grasped the large rock, and pulled.
It popped out with ease.
Maggie looked into the small, empty hole. Only it wasn’t empty.
“Gran, you sneaky old genius.”
Reaching in, she grabbed the object and pulled it out. A small, scratched, but well loved, wooden box. Her body lit with excitement as she opened the lid and peered inside. Multi-colored cards with familiar handwriting. Gran’s recipe box.
“Hallelujah!”
Clutching the very thing she had been searching for tight to her chest like the Holy Grail, she jumped up and down in celebration. Now, all she had to do was get back home, pick a recipe, and everything would be golden.
Leaving the cabin, she headed to her car, noticing only now the sky had darkened during her search. The temperature had dropped as well, but Maggie was too happy she found her prize to care. She was on cloud nine. Her luck was finally turning around!
Her excitement was so great, she barely noticed the small flurries of snow beginning to fall.
****
Colton cursed, kicking his backup generator. It was just his luck to have the thing break during a storm. Dade had told him to buy a new one, noting the fact this generator was older than Colton. He should have listened. Then again, when did he ever listen to his big brother? He was wishing he had now. Not that he would ever tell Dade that.
This trip to his cabin out in the woods was for some much needed R and R. He had listened to the forecast and knew there was a storm coming. However, he wasn’t prepared for how big the storm had gotten. Two hours ago there were just a few light flurries. An hour into those flurries, the main power in his cabin went out. Half an hour after that the backup generator had gone and those small flurries had turned into a white out.
Some R and R this turned out to be.
Wind howled in the dark night sky, kicking up snow, making visibility next to impossible. The snow was as deep as three feet in some places, more in the drifts. The temperature had dropped from thirty to three degrees below zero. He felt like an icicle, but he needed to get the generator up and working if he wanted to thaw out. Why the hell hadn’t he listened to his brother?
Spewing out a list of nasty four letter words that would have his mother smacking him upside the head if she heard, he kicked the uncooperative generator once more. It did nothing. Relegating himself to the fact he would have to camp out in front of the fire tonight with a ton of blankets, he turned to go back inside. At least he had plenty of firewood.
As he trudged through the deep, cold snow something caught his eye. He was surprised he could see anything in all the swirling white flakes, but this was something red and stood out. He took a few more steps to get a better look. A coat. Did a hiker lose his jacket? It was possible. There were trails all over these mountains and things tended to get lost no matter how careful people were.
He took a few more steps toward the discarded clothing, intending to grab it and bring it back into town in case anyone was looking for it. Then he noticed the coat had a pair of blue jeans attached to it, a pair of jeans, shoes, and a yellow hat.
Shit!
That wasn’t a lost jacket. That was a lost person.
Running as fast as he could in two-foot deep snow, he made it over to the mound and dropped to his knees beside the body face down in the snow. No sign of movement.
Please don’t be dead, please don’t be dead, he repeated to himself.
“Hey. Hey, buddy? Can you hear me?” No response.
Working on a horse ranch his entire life, he’d seen a few people get thrown from a mount. He knew you weren’t supposed to move an injured person, but there was no way an ambulance could make it up the mountain in this storm. Left outside, the guy would freeze to death in a matter of hours. Hoping that the man had just passed out and didn’t have a neck injury, Colton gently put his gloved hands through the snow and under the body to roll it over.
“Don’t be dead, don’t be dead,” he said, out loud this time.
“Holy shit!”
He wasn’t dead. He wasn’t even a he.
She wasn’t a lost hiker either.
“Oh God, Maggie!”
What the hell was Maggie Evans doing up here? What reason did she have to come up the mountain? And in a snow storm!
Tapping her gently on the cheek, he tried to wake her. “Maggie, honey. Can you hear me?”
She didn’t say a word, didn’t move. Shit. He had to get her inside. Now.
Placing his arms under her legs and shoulders, he lifted her gently and started walking back toward his cabin. Her red coat was huge, but it didn’t add much weight. She was a tiny thing, five foot three tops and couldn’t weigh more than one fifteen.
The wind made the short trek back to the cabin difficult, but they made it. Once inside, he rushed her over to the couch directly in front of the fire. It was dying down, so he quickly added two more logs, very grateful he had restocked his woodpile before the storm hit.
Removing his jacket and gloves, he turned back. Her dark hair looked like it had been braided, but the wind had pulled it out and whipped it every which way around her head. She was pale, though her pert little nose was red, as were her cheeks. The full lips, that always called him out on his bullshit, were a disturbingly pale blue.
“Maggie, wake up.” He patted her cheek. Ice cold. “Open those pretty green eyes for me.”
She had to be okay. She had to.
A soft moan escaped her lips, and he breathed a sigh of relief. She was alive. Now, he just needed to get her warm before hypothermia set in. He needed to wake her up, so he tapped her cheek again.
“Magpie, come on.”
“C-c-c-cold,” she managed between chattering teeth.
Her jeans were soaking wet. The coat seemed dry, but he bet some snow got inside as she was lying on the ground. Why had she been face down in the snow? Why was she up here at all?
She moaned again. Her body started to shiver.
“I know, I know. I’m going to get you warm, but I have to get these wet clothes off you, okay?”
She simply moaned again. He took that as an okay. Not that he was waiting for her permission. He had to get these wet clothes off to warm her up. With the power out and the only heat source coming from the fire, it was going to be a lot harder to get her body temperature up.
Carefully, he lifted her to a sitting position so he could unzip her jacket and remove it. As he took it off, he noticed a large bulge in the inner pocket. Glancing inside he saw a small wooden box. Ignoring it for now, he tossed the jacket aside. He was right. The snow had gotten under the material. The bottom half of her dark blue sweater was soaked. It came off as well, along with her wet, long john undershirt. Next came the boots and the soaking wet thermal socks. Then the jeans, which were tricky, wet denim was tough to get off, but he managed.
Now, she was left in nothing but a simple black bra and panty set. Colton tried to be a gentleman. He tried not to look, but he was only human, and he did have to see if she had any wounds.
Damn, Maggie was beautiful. He felt like an ass for noticing, but this was the girl he had played with as a child. Though, she definitely wasn’t a child anymore. Not with that smoking hot body.
“Maggie, I’m going to check you for injuries. Did you fall? Does anything hurt?”
She was leaning against the back of the couch, a frown marring her face, but she still hadn’t opened her eyes.
“Cold…hurts.” She sounded like a pouting five year old. It was so cute it made him smile.
“I know, and I’ll get you warm as soon as I make sure everything is okay.”
Running his hands gently up and down her torso, legs, and arms, he tried to detach himself from the smooth feel of her skin. Cursing himself for being a bastard, he gently ran his hands through her hair, feeling her head for lumps. She didn’t appear to have any injuries. That was good. He grabbed the heavy quilt off the back of the couch and wrapped it around her, rubbing her arms to get the circulation flowing.
“Cold,” Maggie cried, eyes still shut.
The blanket was cold, but it would warm up soon through her body heat.
Except that she had no body heat.
Damn. He needed another strategy. If the power was working, he would cook her some hot soup or tea. But it wasn’t, so that idea was out. Damn electric appliances. The fire would warm her eventually, but he needed to get her body temp up now, fast.
A grin spread across his face. There was another way. A way she would hate, and he would love.
“Maggie honey, open your eyes.” He needed her to be fully aware for this.
She shook her head, so he repeated himself. Slowly, her eyes opened. Soft green moss. That was what he had always compared them to in his mind.
“There you are.”
“Colton?” She sounded a little confused, her eyes still hazy.
“Yeah, it’s me, Magpie.”
“St-t-top with the ni-ni-nickname,” she stuttered through her shivers.
He chuckled. There was his Maggie. “You have the beginning signs of hypothermia, and we need to get your body temperature up.”
“Warm p-p-please.”
“The thing is, the power is out in the cabin, so the only heat I have is the fire, and that’s not enough to get you warm.”
“Back up?” Her eyes closed again.
“On the fritz.”
“Didn’t D-D-Dade tell you to re-e-eplace that?”
She had to bring that up. “Sure, but I didn’t listen.”
Opening her eyes, she speared him with a glare. “Never d-d-do.”
He laughed. She had her feisty spirit back. That was a good sign. Mossy hues disappeared as her lids drooped once more, as if it took too much effort to keep them open. He had to get her warm.
“I know, and you can yell all you want later, but right now, I have to get you warm and there is only one way to do that.”
“What?”
He bit back a grin at what he was about to suggest. “Shared body heat.”
Her eyes flew open and narrowed on him. Another shiver racked her body. That did it. He wasn’t waiting any longer. She was cold, and she needed to get warm. It didn’t take long for hypothermia to set in, and if it did, it could kill her.
Standing, he pulled his sweater and T-shirt over his head. Those beautiful green eyes went from narrow to wide. He smiled as he noticed the way she stared at his chest. Running a horse ranch was laborious work. Mucking the stalls, moving hay bales, heck, even riding was an activity that used a lot of muscle. He was an active man, and it led to a strong physique.
He kept watching her as he flicked open the button on his jeans. Toeing off his boots, he dropped his pants and kicked them away, too. The shivering Maggie watched him the whole time. Her gaze moving down his chest to his stomach and his…whoa! If she stared there any harder, he was going to tent the boxer shorts. Then she’d never let him warm her up, die of hypothermia, and ruin his perfectly good R and R time.
Swinging her into his arms, blanket and all, he moved to the rug in front of the fire, set her down on the soft, thickly woven material, and gently tugged the blanket from under her so he could place it atop them. He laid down next to her and pulled her into his arms.
Jesus, she’s freezing! Pressing her close to his chest, he rubbed her back, trying to transfer his heat to her.
“Mmmmmm, warm,” she mumbled into his chest.
“Take all the warmth you need, sweetheart.”
“Not your sweetheart,” she murmured.
No, but damned if he wasn’t feeling something, something strange that he had never felt around Maggie before. She’d been one of his best friends growing up. Every summer when she had visited her grandmother, she followed him and Dade around. They treated her like a kid sister mostly. Letting her tag along, protecting her from anyone who tried to give her a hard time. As the years went on, they became closer. Until that one summer she started pulling away from him. Then she had just stopped coming. He never knew why. Her grandmother kept him up to date on her life out in LA. Little tidbits Ms. B would share with him whenever he came into her shop to get cupcakes.
When Maggie had come back to town eight months ago, after her grandmother died, he’d been excited to see his old friend. But things were different between them. He wasn’t an idiot. Over a decade had passed since they had seen each other, but he thought they could pick up where they left and continue the friendship. They were friendly, but it wasn’t the same. The beautiful, grown woman who replaced his gangly childhood friend seemed closed off from him. She didn’t open up and share like when they were kids. Something changed, and it wasn’t just her body, but, damn, had that changed, too.
He may be her friend, but Colton was also a man. She’d been a cute kid, but Maggie had really grown into a stunning woman. On the small side, but with just enough curves to make a man’s mind wander to places. Hot, sexy, places, where clothes were missing and bodies entwined.
Thoughts like that had been rattling around in his head for months, and he wasn’t quite sure what to do with them. So, he teased her every chance he got. He may have grown into a man, but that didn’t mean he was mature.
The two visions he had of Maggie Evans battled in his mind. The cute kid who’d followed him all around town to become one of his best friends, and closest confidants. And the smoking hot, sexy woman who had just moved into town, taken over her grandmother’s business, and made it her own.
Having her in his arms, now mostly naked, the woman was winning. And it was killing him. He should get a freaking medal for the restraint he was pulling.
She moaned again and snuggled in closer, rubbing her body against his.
He needed a distraction, quick, or he was going to embarrass himself and freak her out. No matter how out of it the lady was, if she felt “little Colton” getting excited, she would knee him in the balls for sure. Particularly fond of his balls, he’d rather that not happen.
Trying to distract his mind from the luscious, partially naked body he was currently holding in his arms, and needing to keep her awake in case she’d hit her head and had a concussion, he decided to ask the question burning in his brain.
“What are you doing up here, Maggie?”
She rubbed her face on his chest, warming her cold nose on his pectoral. So far, the distraction thing was not working.
“I n-needed to get Gran’s recipe box.” She gasped, making a feeble attempt to sit up. “Gran’s box…where—”
“Shhhh.” He held her tight, rubbing his hand against her back in a soothing motion. “You mean that wooden thing in your coat pocket?”
“Thank goodness.” A sigh escaped her and she calmed against him. “Came for…box.”
That’s right, Maggie’s grandmother had owned the cabin next to his. When Mrs. B died, of course it would go to her granddaughter. But her cabin was over a mile away. Why had she walked so far in this weather?
His unspoken question was answered when she continued.
“Thought I could…beat the storm home.” Her shoulders hitched as she took a deep breath. “They said…wasn’t going to be bad.”
Yeah, when were the weather forecasts ever right?
“Guess I was wrong.” She shifted against him, seeking his warmth and driving him crazy. “Snow started coming down in sheets. Could barely see three feet…in front of my car.”
“What happened next?” It was still difficult for her to talk, but he needed to know what happened. He needed to know she was okay.
“Must have run over something. I heard this big pop and then…”
“Then what, Maggie?”
“Boom, flat tire.”
“Damn. Unlucky time for a flat,” he muttered, rubbing the soft skin on her back. She was getting warmer. That was good. Her smooth flesh felt like heaven on his rough, calloused hands. That was bad. He had to stop thinking things like that.
“I know,” she said on a yawn. “Luck is a bitch determined to mess with me.”
“So, you got a flat, and…?”
She grumbled something about annoying cowboys who wouldn’t let her sleep. He smiled at her crankiness, but there was no way he was letting her sleep until he knew whether or not she had a head injury. First aid 101, never let someone with a knocked noggin fall asleep.
“Couldn’t change the tire in this storm. Saw the lights of a cabin and started walking toward it.” She took another breath, pushing on with the story he insisted she tell. “Figured whoever was here could help. Forgot you owned…”
“Did you fall?” he asked quietly, when she didn’t finish.
She pulled her head out of from his chest. Her eyes fluttered open, puzzled. He stared into those soft green eyes and felt his heart stutter. Damn but this woman was beautiful. If he hadn’t chosen today to come up to the cabin, he might have lost her. Not that he ever really had her to begin with. Wasn’t that the damnedest thing?
“When I found you, you were face down in the snow. Did you fall? Hit your head on something?”
He moved his hand up her now warm back in a gentle caress. She shivered as he cupped the back of her neck, stroking her cheek with his thumb. He shouldn’t be touching her this way, but he couldn’t stop himself. His mind flashed back to her pale, still form in the freezing snow.
“Took damn near ten years of my life off when I saw it was you lying there, Maggie. You looked dead.”
She stared at him with confusion, as if wondering if he really meant the words he was saying. He meant them. How could she think he didn’t?
“I didn’t fall. I just kind of…got tired. The wind was blowing so hard. I thought, if I got down lower it wouldn’t blow me around as much.” A yawn escaped her no longer blue lips. “I started crawling, and I guess I just kind of collapsed out of exhaustion.”
Her words were starting to slur together; her eyelids drooped. She was indeed exhausted.
Now that he knew there was no risk of concussion and her body temperature was back up where it should be, he could let her sleep.
Tucking the blanket firmly around them, he kissed her softly on the forehead. “Sweet dreams.”
“Colton?” she murmured, nestling her head against his chest.
“Yeah?”
“Thank you.”
“Anytime, sweetheart.”
A sleepy frown pulled at her lips as she whisper softly, “Not your…sweetheart.”
“Not yet,” he replied.
But Maggie was already fast asleep.