She turned and before she got more than two steps, he said, “Thank you, Arden. You’ve been really kind, when I’ve been a complete asshole.”
She looked over her shoulder. “You’re not an asshole, you’re just…on the wrong foot.”
He smirked then closed the bathroom door—end of conversation.
Camo waited outside the door, and no amount of coaxing would get him to follow her, so Arden continued down the hall to the great room and the fireplace.Maybe I’m being too stubborn. She swiped her brother’s photo off the mantel before Kyle could see it and ask questions. Arden was in no mood to talk about Sean, or anything else about herself.
She opened her brother’s bedroom door. The room was at least ten degrees colder than the rest of the house since it had been closed up after he left. She sighed at the gathering dust on the dresser and the chest of drawers. Funny, when they were younger, he would have killed his little sister for coming into his room and going through his stuff.
Blinking rapidly, she set the photo on the dresser. Then she opened the top drawer—God, don’t let me find anything gross and/or traumatizing—and was relieved to only find a stack of t-shirts alongside boxers and socks. The next drawer down was jeans. She’d always teased Sean about his skinny legs, and these were older pairs he’d had before working out and bulking up, so she went for the next drawer full of sweatpants instead. Kyle was at least five inches taller than her brother, so he’d just have to deal with the floods. Last, she opened Sean’s closet, surprised by the lingering smell of her brother—a combination of some obnoxious cologne, earthy straw, and Sean. She hesitated, then pulled the first flannel she saw off its hanger and left, closing the door tightly behind her. When she returned to the bathroom, Camo had stationed himself right in front of it like a sentry guarding his team. Arden’s heart wentpangat the sight of the faithful dog, and then her thoughts went straight back to her brother.
Dammit. No. No, I am not giving up that dog. She’d just have to figure out a way to convince Kyle that Camo belonged here on the ranch with her.
Four
Kyle’s toes ached and tingled as they came back to life in front of the fire. His fingers did the same as he clutched the warm mug of hot chocolate. Arden had offered to spike it with peppermint schnapps to warm him up faster, but he declined. He needed to stay sharp, focused, and she was distracting enough without the soft haze of alcohol.
Halfway to her ranch, he’d damn near given up and gone back to the Rav until morning as he trudged through that godforsaken storm from hell. If this was Colorado in the wintertime, he didn’t see the appeal.At all. Only the yard light up ahead kept him on track once the poles along the road disappeared under drifting snow. He wasn’t even sure if this was the right place. But the moment he heard the dog barking behind the door, all his doubts vanished along with the cold and the pain. Camo. His partner. His buddy. His lifesaver. He’d walk through a hundred blizzards to get his dog back.
Or face down a cranky old woman and her shotgun, one who was under the delusion that Camo was hers just because she adopted him three weeks ago. He didn’t care, when Camo’s nose wasright therepushing through the door, and he so obviously wanted to be reunited with Kyle. God, he’d been so worried at times that the dog might not remember him, but of course he did. You don’t forget your brothers-in-arms.Ever.
He didn’t spare a glance for the woman when she finally opened the door because Camo was doing the full-body wag—his buddy remembered him, all right. Kyle rushed forward, tears in his eyes, and held his dog while Camo covered his face in kisses. Two years. Two years lonely, two years misunderstood. Shunned and shamed. All gone at that moment.
Kyle examined Camo with his hands as he looked him over. More scars under the fur. A couple of lipomas—his boy was getting older, after all. A little bit of stiffness to his movements now that he was calming down. But all four legs and both eyes accounted for, and a tail that wouldn’t quit wagging.
We’re okay, aren’t we buddy? We’re both okay now.
All he had to do was convince—no,tell—the woman in her ratty old robe that he’d be takinghisdog, fuck you very much, and they’d be on their merry-fucking-Christmas way. He looked up at her to do just that—and her face stopped all rational thought.
She was no old woman despite her deeper voice. She looked like she might be younger than him, even. Twenty-three, maybe twenty-five at the very most. Honey-colored hair in waves that framed her face and gray eyes that burned with wariness and sharp wit—he should have known she was a smarty when she threw out the Draeger question—and something else in her eyes. For a moment, he thought it might be pity for him and he bristled. But no. Sadness, plain and simple. Her eyes were older than the rest of her.
She quickly looked away. Did she see something in him she didn’t like? Did she somehow know what he’d seen, what he’d done?I must scare her. The realization jolted his chest, followed by the usual resignation. He’d take Camo and go, leave her alone so that she didn’t have to be afraid of him. Wait,wasshe alone, because he’d noticed she wasn’t wearing a ring on her left hand. Either way, if he couldn’t dig the car out, they’d be fine sleeping in it until morning or whenever this storm blew itself out and he could call a tow truck.
But no. In addition to looking whip-smart, she offered to let him stay, even while fighting with him over Camo, which made her a kind person. A kind, decent person who wasn’t afraid of him. And why did she have to be so damn beautiful? Why couldn’t she be an ugly old hag straight out of a fairy tale? Or a frosty ice queen who cast a spell and caused the storm, all to keep him from Camo. No, instead she was beautiful, kind, warm, and funny. Also, tough-as-nails and not about to just let him walk away with Camo.
Oh, yeah, she was a stubborn one; he already knew he’d have a fight on his hands. How could he convince her that Camo belonged with him, without telling her about his past? Maybe once he warmed up, his brain would thaw out and he’d think of something.
Afterhe stopped wondering who the dude was whose clothes he was wearing. She didn’t tell him and he didn’t ask. Ex-husband, maybe? Or—oh, no—current boyfriend?Kyle had the guy beat by a good five inches height-wise and the sweats were snug through the thighs.Why am I feeling all smug thinking I could take this guy in a fight?A fight over…what? A woman he just met who wanted to keep Camo?Jesus.Maybe his brainwasfrozen.
For now, he was happy to sit on her seasoned leather couch with Camo curled up between them, sip her hot chocolate, and appreciate the surprisingly comfortable quiet punctuated only by the snap and pop of the crackling fire. Oh yeah, add the dog’s rhythmic snoring to the crackles and pops, and things were downright cozy.
He tried not to stare at Arden, keeping her in his peripheral vision instead. She in turn watched Camo sleeping, studying the dog with a thoughtful expression. Kyle wanted to ask her what she was thinking but was afraid it might lead to another argument over keeping the dog.
“Nice couch,” he said instead. Nice couch? Is that all I got?
“Thanks.” She ran her hand over the broken-in leather. “My father and grandfather made it together, using leather from the steers they used to raise on the ranch.”
“Used to?”
Arden nodded and looked around. “Yeah. This used to be an honest-to-God cattle ranch, believe it or not. Nothing huge,” Arden chuckled to herself, “but then again, she didn’t need a big outfit, she just needed something remote.” Arden gazed into the fire, an amused smile softening her features.
“She who?”
Arden’s attention snapped back to him. “Oh, sorry. My great-great-great-grandmother, Nancy. She started this ranch back in the late eighteen-hundreds.”
“Nancy, as in, the name of your shotgun?”
That gave her a smile that lit her entire face and chased away some of the sadness in her eyes, and…wait a minute, was that a dimple in her chin?Good Lord, keep it in your pants, it’s just a dimple, even if it is damn adorable. Remember that this woman stands between you and going home with Camo.
