Rocky Retreat Read online

  Rachel had propped her feet up on the chair so he could sweep underfoot. As he worked, she reached to tidy a pile of papers and albums on the table that he hadn’t noticed until now.

  So many questions he wanted to ask. What was she doing here? How long had she been back in Rocky Mountain House?

  Was she back in Rocky for good?

  He didn’t bother dumping the snow outside. Opening the door would let cold air in, and even though the wood supply inside was massive, there was no use in wasting the heat they had. He put away the broom and pulled the other chair next to hers, right in front of the fire.

  Rachel cleared her throat. “I have food, if you want something to eat.”

  “Thanks—maybe in a bit. You taking a holiday?” Lee asked as he pulled on a dry pair of woolen socks, a sigh of relief escaping. It had been damn cold wandering through the trees trying to find a passable route to the shelter.

  “Sort of. Yeah.” She paused, then the words came out in a rush. “I didn’t think I would see anyone.”

  Lee picked up a half-burnt picture off the ground from beside his feet, lifting it in the air. The edges had turned ash, but the center showed her smiling face. Little white flowers tucked into her hair, what was unmistakably a wedding gown riding low on her shoulders.

  Suddenly her being alone in the middle of the wilderness made sense. He glanced at her, checking to see if she had noticed his discovery. Rachel returned his questioning look, her breathing so steady she had to be concentrating on it.

  He’d interrupted something important to her. “I’m sorry.”

  She swallowed hard. “Me too.”

  Rachel pulled the photo from his fingers and tossed it on the kindling pile.

  A strange sensation buzzed through him. Maybe he hadn’t planned on being there while she got out the pain in her system from her failed marriage, but there was nowhere he’d rather be. It was a chance to give to her. To support her.

  It was a chance to prove they belonged together, even if it meant risking being shot down again.

  He spoke softly, like he would with a skittish animal. Staying as safe as possible as he changed topics. “Some food sounds good, but more importantly, do you want me to grab the bottle of whiskey I have in my pack?”

  Her expression turned amused. “Whiskey’s part of your standard-issue supplies when you’re out searching after cows?”

  “Hell, yeah.”

  The kettle on the stove went from bubbling to whistling. Rachel slipped on an oven mitt and moved to the table, hoisting a package of hot-chocolate mix in the air. “Here’s my first contribution to our evening. Go get yours.”

  Brushing past her once again teased all his senses, but this time, instead of fighting his desires, he let hope steal over him.

  He hadn’t gone out this morning looking for this opportunity, but no way would he allow it to slip from his fingers.

  As the snow continued to fall, and the wind howled outside, screeching through the trees, Lee found the bottle of whiskey in his pack and brought it to the table. He stood behind her, pausing to soak in her nearness. In being there—in being right where he needed to be for however long they ended up trapped together.

  As long as she didn’t deny him again, this could turn out to be one hell of an adventure.

  Chapter Two

  Warm liquid slid down her throat, her fingers no longer tingling from the cold. Instead, they were stiff and aching, with a lingering pins-and-needles sensation like waking a limb that had fallen asleep.

  Rachel tightened her grip around her cup and held it out for another generous serving of the whiskey.

  Empty plates lay on the table, and more than chocolate and whiskey filled her belly. Good thing, because the buzz had hit hard enough without pouring liquor on an empty gut.

  Lee Coleman.

  Having him stumble to her cabin in the dark was way better than Dr. Hook Hand, or the Murderer of Mirror Lake. Only having him there—complicated things.

  He made her sweat.

  She was glad the cabin had been cold when he removed his shirt earlier. For someone so young, he shouldn’t be that muscular, but something in the air in these parts grew the Coleman family men to an extraordinary size. He had biceps she doubted her fingers would wrap around. Back muscles so defined she’d itched to trace them.

  And now he sat beside her, close enough she could examine his hands and thick forearms in minute detail. Powerful fingers, strong muscles in his arms with a dusting of hair over them. Every time he moved, she spotted something else to admire. His dark hair was on the longish side, curls teasing against his neck. It was late enough in the day a hint of shadow coloured his jaw—okay, maybe he wasn’t as much of a baby as she always tried to pretend. Twenty-four wasn’t young, except when she compared it to her thirty-three years. Still, something about the set of his expression made her wonder what he was thinking about so seriously.

  She was careful to turn her gaze away before he caught her staring, but there was nothing wrong with what Lee Coleman looked like, body or face. Not a single. Damn. Thing.

  “Did you want anything else?” He pulled her from her sensual thoughts as he gestured toward his backpack. “I’ve got beef jerky if you’re still hungry.”

  Rachel shook her head. “I’m full, and besides, shouldn’t we ration the food, just in case?”

  “We won’t starve,” he assured her.

  The storm wasn’t letting up at all. “I didn’t bring enough for both of us for days and days,” she warned.

  With the whiskey in her system, though, panic was far away. It was more like a casual comment, and Lee lifted a brow, grinning as he spoke. “If we’re stuck here for long, we’ll make stone soup.”

  Rachel draped her arms around her legs, her gaze drifting over him again. It was impossible to look away for too long. “And here I thought for sure you’d suggest we hold some kind of survivor challenge. Winner gets to eat the other to outlast the storm.”

  For moment something flashed in his eyes, something dark and hungry. Then it was gone, leaving nothing but control in his every move. Maybe it had been her imagination, especially when he turned away and stretched his arms overhead. The fabric of his shirt protesting against his muscles.

  They’d made it this far without the conversation getting awkward, but now the silence stretched on and on, broken only by crackling in the fireplace.

  Rachel debated what to tell him, because there was no way they’d be able to spend the next how many hours together without mentioning why she was here.

  She’d just planned her first comments when he reached to the side counter and grabbed a deck of cards. “Want to play?”

  And…that would work instead of having to spill her guts over her rotten life. “Poker?”

  “Go Fish?”

  A laugh escaped. “You’re the terror of the local gaming halls, are you?”

  “Don’t knock it. A good go-fish strategy has saved my butt more than once while playing with the clan kids.”

  That made sense, in a strange, twisted way. Rachel knew Lee came from a family of four kids, with an even bigger extended family. It was a standing joke in the Rocky Mountain House community that every time a person turned around they bumped into a Coleman—and it seemed their numbers were on the rise. “Does this mean the next generation has grown up enough to begin their card-sharp training?”

  “Some of them are deadly. Plus, there are more on the way.” He twisted his chair to face her better, the corner of the table between them. “That’s part of the reason I got caught in the snow tonight. My cousin Gabe and his wife are expecting their first kid, and she went into labour this morning. My brothers and I rode out to check stock for them as well.”

  “Did you hear any news about the baby?” Rachel hoped for the best. She didn’t know Allison that well, but she knew of her.

  “Not before I took off, and between that and the storm, no one’s going to be looking for me. Once the weather got nasty, ev
eryone would have gone to cover. The family knows I’ll find somewhere to shelter.” He shuffled the cards without looking. “What about you? Anyone going to be worried?”

  She shook her head. “I knew there would be no phone reception up here, so I prearranged in case of an emergency. No one expects me until Saturday, although if conditions aren’t better by then, I’m pretty sure Connie will send a rescue team.”

  Lee nodded. “That’s about the time people will look for me. Cell service is always a potshot when we’re out in the fields, so no one worries if I don’t call.”

  Her sense of helplessness would have been far higher if she’d been stuck in the storm alone. “Then we have nothing to worry about.”

  Nothing except the fact they were in a teeny cabin for the next four days, and the total furniture amounted to two wooden chairs, a small rectangular wooden table, and one bed. No way could she demand he bunk down on the floor when she knew there were limited blankets in the cabin. She’d made sure to bring her warmest sleeping bag to deal with the cold temperatures. She doubted he had anything like that in his backpack.

  Some of her concern must have shown, because strong fingers closed around her chin, dragging her attention up until she was staring into his cobalt-blue eyes.

  “Hey, we’ll be okay.”

  “Of course we will.” Heat sizzled along her jaw, tingles spreading like a net over her entire body from one point of contact. She concentrated hard to pretend nothing out of the ordinary was happening.

  His eyes were fixed on her lips, and she swallowed hard, desperate to get some moisture into her suddenly dry mouth. His expression flashed to hunger again, his desire growing clearer the longer they stared at each other.

  She’d always known he was attracted to her, i.e., he’d asked her out far too many times for it to have been a game like she’d first suspected. While she thought he was good looking, he’d never been a real candidate for her because of his age. She didn’t want to be accused of robbing the cradle, so in spite of being intrigued she’d pushed her own attraction away and denied it existed.

  It didn’t seem right that here and now—when the whole reason for her escape into the wilderness had been to burn off the remaining pain caused by her soon-to-be ex-husband—it didn’t seem right her libido picked now to kick into overdrive.

  “Rachel…”

  His tone was deeper and gentler than it had been, and warning alarms went off in her brain. She was one step closer to the edge than she wanted to be, and making a smart choice about Lee at this moment was impossible.

  Avoiding the decision seemed much safer.

  She stole the cards from his fingers. “Crazy eights.”

  The moment of tension between them slid off high as he nodded, picking up his mug and taking a sip. “Another game I’m a whiz at. Prepare to lose.”

  Four hands later, she went to deal and tipped over her coffee mug, scrambling to catch it before the liquid went everywhere. “Damn.”

  Lee was on his feet, grabbing a small hand towel to mop up the mess. “It’s okay. It’s cheap whiskey.”

  Her laughter died away as he picked up the photo album she’d forgotten on the table. The pristine cover had soaked up some of the golden liquid and the fabric was no longer creamy white—and she sucked in a breath as reality hit.

  She wasn’t living the dream-world happily-ever-after life that she thought she’d been promised. In fact, she was so far from it there didn’t seem to be a map in the world that could help her find her way back.

  Her throat tightened as she snatched away the album, ripping it from his fingers. For a moment she stood there, not certain what the next step was. If she could have stuck the entire thing into the fireplace, she would’ve.

  “Rachel.”

  She couldn’t swallow. She could barely breathe. She threw the album against his chest, letting go before he’d had a chance to get a good grip, as if the cover had burnt her fingers. “I don’t want it. Get rid of it.”

  “Rach—”

  “Now,” she shouted. “I don’t want to see it ever again in my life.”

  She wasn’t sure what he did at that point, and she didn’t care, because her legs moved of their own accord, carrying her toward the window. She refused to look him in the face. Refused to see pity in his eyes. She stared into the darkness, hands clenched into fists.

  It wasn’t supposed to hurt this much anymore.

  Behind her, rustling noises faded as Lee did something with the pile of hurtful memories she’d literally tossed at him. She attempted to take long, controlled breaths, only they came out in horrid rasps, as if her insides were being shredded.

  For a big man he moved silently. One hand settled on her shoulder, the warmth of it seeping through her sweatshirt, the weight steadying her.

  “I’m sorry.”

  Kindness would’ve been hard to accept, sympathy might’ve made her mad. But hearing frustration and anger in his voice was the final straw. No way she could hold it together after that.

  She whirled on him, her heart pounding all over again. “It’s not fair. It’s not fair that you’re here, and I don’t get a chance to cry and get this out of my system as if it never happened, so if I’m a little snappy, you’ll just have to deal with it.”

  He should have shouted back at her. She would have understood, but damn if he didn’t wrap his arms around her instead, pulling her close. He pressed a hand to the back of her head and brought her against that impossibly muscular chest. Under her ear, his heart pounded loudly enough to vibrate through her, his hands holding her in place when she would’ve wiggled away, although she had no idea where she might have gone.

  She was trapped in the center of the most accepting and comforting hug she’d had in a long time, and somehow that only made it worse.

  Her tears fell unchecked. Silent and scalding hot as her bitterness rose up to be washed away. His fingers slid through her hair as he let her use him as a crying post. His arm kept her tight to his warmth, offering an oasis in the midst of the chill around them.

  And still tears fell. Slipping from her until she thought there could be nothing left, and yet there were more.

  “Sor-r-ry.” She wasn’t sure which part she was apologizing for in between struggling for air. The tears or the whole stupid mess.

  “It’s okay to cry,” he urged, stroking her hair, easing his position and bringing her closer. “Let it out, and let it go. You’re going to be fine, Rachel. You’re going to be more than fine.”

  She dragged in another ragged breath, her body shaking as she fought for control. “I’ve been such a fool.”

  He shook his head. “That’s the one thing you’re not. Maybe you’re too much of an optimist, or too much of a romantic. But a fool? Instead of being here in this cabin, drenching us both, a fool would be back with Gary letting him break your heart for the rest of your life.”

  So much for having to explain anything. “I guess this means everyone in Rocky Mountain House knows what happened.”

  “Maybe. Those of us who care about you do, and we’re the only ones who count.”

  Others would gloat or find ways to rub it in that she’d been so happy, and yet fallen so fast.

  He pressed his fingers under her chin and tilted her head back until their gazes met. Seriousness cloaked his face, his eyes like cobalt magnets locking her in place as he spoke again. “He didn’t do what’s right by you, and you reacted by giving him what he deserved, and neither of those things make you foolish,”

  “Made me cry my heart out,” she complained. “But I meant more back in the beginning. Back when I didn’t see what kind of man Gary was. That’s what makes me a fool.”

  Lee took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. With their bodies still in contact she found herself synchronizing her movements to his, soaking in the soothing comfort of being draped in his warmth.

  His words caressed her like a warm wind. “I think my daddy would say that’s not the direction you need to
look.”

  Rachel fought for and regained the last bit of control she needed, pulling away as she wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “Your daddy’s a smart man.”

  She cleaned herself up using some of the precious tissue she’d brought along. Lee pretended to tidy things at the small counter, and she was grateful for the moment to recover her calm. It was awkward with Lee here, but then again, his presence was far more bearable than anyone else’s would have been.

  She opened the stove and tossed in her used tissues. They didn’t burn nearly as quickly as the photos had, and amusement trickled its way through her as some of her old upbeat attitude broke to the surface for a split-second. She chuckled in spite of the lingering pain.

  “What?” Lee asked.

  “It appears it’s easier to get rid of the memories than the results of the memories. Never mind. It was funnier in my head.”

  She turned again, bumping into his solid chest, and Lee caught her before she could bounce back and hit the floor. Rachel tilted her head up to thank him—both for now and for the support he’d shown—when she caught a glimpse of his eyes.

  The unsettled sensation in her belly shifted two steps to the right and twisted until she would have sworn there were butterflies twirling inside her. Lee slid his hand upward from where he’d grabbed her arms, moving ever so slowly until one big hand cupped her cheek. He swept his thumb in a gentle caress over her skin as something very much not sympathy but far more flammable rose between them.

  She should say something. She should pull away.

  Both options were impossible. Her feet were pinned to the floor as her gaze dropped so she could admire his lips, his jaw, his everything.

  “It’s good to hear you laugh,” he whispered.

  “I haven’t had much to laugh about,” she replied.

  He didn’t carry on, and that was what caused her final defeat. If he would’ve kept talking, she could have focused on Gary and what a shit her ex had been. Instead silence fell, or such silence that was possible in the cabin with the storm raging outside, a fire raging in, and all kinds of emotions raging through her. All of them combined into a bank of noise and confusion, and Rachel couldn’t decide what to do.