For a moment, Anson went completely still. Then his hand came up to touch the spot she’d kissed, wonder spreading across his face like the sunrise over the distant mountains.
“Why marshmallows?”
“Because that’s what you do on a snowday. Duh.”
He made a sound that was dangerously close to a laugh. “This isn’t a snowday.”
“It’s daytime, and there’s snow on the ground. Snowday.”
He pulled his wallet from his back pocket, extracted a credit card, and held it out to her. “Use this.”
She stared at the card. “Anson, I can’t?—”
“Safer.” His tone left no room for argument. “If Landry tracks your cards, he’ll know where you are as soon as you make a purchase. Mine, he can’t.”
The logic was sound, but accepting felt wrong. She’d worked hard to stand on her own feet, to never be dependent on a man again. “I have money.”
“Know you do.” He pressed the card into her palm, closing her fingers around it. “This isn’t about money. It’s about keeping you safe.”
When he put it that way, refusal seemed ridiculous. She slipped the card into her back pocket. “Thank you. I’ll keep the receipts.”
“Don’t care about receipts. I have more money than I’ll ever spend from my leatherwork commissions. Get what you need.” He turned toward the forge, then paused. “Don’t forget a hat. Don’t want you freezing off those cute pixie ears.”
Her heart did a tiny hop-skip as she watched his retreating back. The way he’d said “cute pixie ears” with that gruff voice—like the compliment had been dragged out of him against his will—made her cheeks warm despite the cold.
“I don’t have pixie ears,” she called after him.
“Yes, you do.”
“Well, you have a cute cowboy butt.”
He stumbled slightly, caught himself, but didn’t turn around. She grinned at his back, pretty sure she’d just made him blush.
twenty-one
“Most tourists think Montana’s all about the cold,” Johanna said, taking a curve faster than Maggie would have dared in the snow. “It’s not. It’s about the sudden changes. Sunny and fifty one hour, blizzard the next. You prep for the blizzard, not the sunshine.”
“Sounds like sound life advice in general.” She clutched the door handle as they hit another pothole.
“Exactly.” Johanna shot her a quick, appraising glance. “I knew from the moment I saw you that I’d like you. You’re tougher than you look.”
“Is that a compliment?”
“Just an observation.” A slight smile softened her normally serious expression. “Most people who show up at the ranch with a stalker problem don’t immediately volunteer to teach carpentry to domestic violence survivors.”
“You get a lot of people showing up with stalker problems?”
“More than our share, I’d say.”
Maggie stared out at the snow-dusted pines. “I’m tired of being afraid.”
“Good. Fear keeps you alive, but it’s a terrible life coach.”
Johanna pulled into the hardware store parking lot and killed the engine. “Cody and Jodi Simms have the best selection of work gear. Practical, not pretty.”
“I’ve spent most of my life on construction sites. Pretty’s never been the goal.” She frowned at the large brick building that dominated one whole corner lot on Main Street, just a few doors down from Nessie’s bakery. “The owners’ names are Cody and Jodi?”
“I know, it’s sickly sweet, isn’t it? What makes it worse is that they were high school sweethearts, and they are still ridiculously in love. Like the kind of love people aspire to have.” Johanna shook her head. “I didn’t even know what I wanted in a man until I was forty.”
