All I Want for Christmas Is a Cowboy Page 4

  There! She caught sight of a bathroom with beaten copper sinks and a rope-edged decorative mirror. Breathing hard, she flicked the light on and stared at her reflection, clutching the sink for balance.

  Her face didn’t look familiar. Oh, it kind of did, in that weird “have I met you somewhere before?” feeling, but other than that, it was like looking at the face of a stranger. She had brown hair and blue eyes, and a hellish-looking bruise on her forehead. Her nose was huge, and when she touched it, it felt squishy and painful. Swollen, then. Her brows were dark and it was hard to tell if she was attractive or not because there were massive bruises under her eyes and she looked awful.

  Just awful.

  Hot tears threatened to seep out, and she dashed them away. She wouldn’t cry over a stupid ugly reflection. Not when there were bigger problems like who the heck she was. Her heart hurt . . . but that could have been the bruising. “Right,” she whispered to herself. “Bigger problems than a big schnoz, Cass. It’s not like you have someone to impress—”

  And then she paused, because did she? Maybe she did and she didn’t remember, and wouldn’t that just be awful?

  Maybe . . . maybe her cell phone would have the answers. Excited at the thought, she made her way back out of the bathroom and limped back to the living area. It was huge, but she didn’t see a purse or any place she’d have plugged in a cell phone. Maybe she kept it by the bed? She explored the lower floor of the enormous house, looking for bedrooms, but all the doors she found were locked. If there was a key, she had no idea where she might have left it.

  Down a long hallway, she found a small, cramped room that was stacked high with paperwork, shelves full of clutter, and a dusty computer with a CRT monitor that took up most of the rickety desk it was perched on. She sat down on the folding metal chair in front of the computer and tapped the keyboard to unlock the screen.

  A box popped up on the screen.

  Password.

  Crap.

  She thought for a moment, and then pushed the keyboard away. She had no idea. She had no idea about anything. She didn’t know where her damn purse was, where her phone was, or anything. She didn’t even have a pair of shoes. She didn’t know the date.

  Feeling hopeless, she gazed around the small, messy office looking for a calendar. There was one on the wall . . . for the entire year.

  Of 2008.

  A helpless, horrible little laugh bubbled up in her throat. Okay, she was pretty sure that was the least helpful calendar of all time. She knew it wasn’t 2008, because that was when . . . was when . . .

  Well, it didn’t matter. She didn’t know what the date was, but her brain knew a few things. She had her name. She knew it wasn’t 2008. Maybe if she worked at it, she’d remember other things.

  There was a mug shaped like a boot with some ballpoint pens sticking out of it, so she grabbed one and a piece of paper and started to write.

  CASS, she wrote at the top, and then added . . . ASSANDRA? with a question mark, because she wasn’t entirely sure, but it felt right. Tapping the pen, no other names came to mind.

  As she flicked the pen back and forth, she noticed it had writing on it. Her head throbbed, but she forced herself to read the tiny words.

  PRICE RANCH.

  Hmm. So this was a ranch. That explained the decor and the fact that it was a big house, big enough for multiple people to live in. Why was she living on a ranch? Cass chewed on her lip and then wrote PRICE next to CASSANDRA. That didn’t look right.

  So who were the Prices, then? How did she know them?

  The dog’s head went up, and the tail began to wag furiously. Before Cass could ponder this, the fluffy white monster was off like a shot, barking. A moment later, she heard the sound of a door slam somewhere in the direction of the mudroom.

  Someone was here!

  Wobbly, Cass raced back toward the kitchen and the mudroom, even as two other dogs came racing up to her, tails wagging with excitement. These weren’t the white, fluffy monsters like the other one but smaller with patchy coats and excited, wriggling bodies. They were thrilled to see her, at least. A low voice murmured something and her heart skipped a beat at that. A man.

  Her man, maybe?

  She touched her ring finger but there was nothing there. Of course, that didn’t mean anything. Maybe when she’d smacked into whatever she’d smacked into, she’d lost her ring, too. Cass rubbed her finger as she headed into the kitchen, moving slowly so everything didn’t hurt.

  When she entered, the breath sucked out of her lungs.

  Standing in the doorway of the kitchen, fresh from the outside, was a cowboy. Not just any cowboy, but a cowboy that looked like a cross between the Marlboro Man and something out of a woman’s secret fantasy. He was busy knocking snow off a tan hat, and his legs were encased in dark jeans. A red flannel shirt covered a strong upper body, and he had a belt buckle that shone like a star. His face was tanned and handsome in its solemn severity, but the most noticeable thing was the silvery gray of his eyes, and they reminded her of the ice, too. Crisp and clear and bright. Match those perfect, handsome features with those broad shoulders and the cowboy hat?

  He was a fantasy come to life.

  Oh goodness, this was her man? God, why didn’t she remember this?

  The cowboy stared at her expectantly, and Cass supposed she needed to point out that she’d lost her memory. Instead, what came out was “Are you my husband?”

  CHAPTER SIX

  Was he her husband? Eli stared at the woman in surprise.

  He hadn’t expected to see her up, though he supposed that was good. Meant she wasn’t so injured that she’d need a hospital after all. Still, she looked a hell of a lot more fragile upright than she did unconscious. Now he could see the slim lines of her body, the delicate build of her figure, and just how bad the bruising on her face was. She was pale, the cut on her forehead and the bruise there looking like intruders on her face. Didn’t even matter that her nose was red and swollen.

  She was a beauty.

  Dark blue eyes the color of sky in summer looked up at him, and her full mouth was pink and eye-catching. He’d never seen anything so lovely—and helpless—as the woman before him with her dark, tousled curls tumbling over her thin black sweater that wasn’t winter-appropriate and wouldn’t last five minutes for someone that worked outdoors. It did outline her breasts quite magnificently, though, but he tried not to look at that. Wasn’t right.

  Eli cleared his throat. “Ma’am?”

  “Are you my husband?” she asked again, and her voice was small and timid with worry.

  “Well, uh, no. No I’m not.” Eli took off his hat and set it down on the kitchen counter. His hair was sweaty and he raked a hand through it, feeling mighty uncomfortable at her confusion. Why would she think he was her husband? That didn’t make sense.

  The woman looked around, her eyes full of confusion. “Then this isn’t our house?”

  “Nope. This here’s Price Ranch.” He just stood there, because he didn’t know what to say. Was this an act? Did she really lose her memory? Did she truly think he was her husband? Man, Jordy and Maria and the others would have a field day if they knew that. They’d laugh and tease him forever, because Eli was the one that never dated, never went into town to get a drink and meet women. He was all business.

  Husband indeed.

  “Oh.” One hand headed to her brow and then fluttered away, as if she remembered that it was injured. “I’m not a Price, then?”

  “No, you aren’t. I found your car on the road. You crashed into a tree. Who are you?”

  She bit her lip. “I was hoping you could tell me.”

  “You can’t remember anything?” His voice was a little more harsh and impatient than he wanted it to be. But if this wasn’t just his luck. Not only was he stuck with a pretty stranger, but she didn’t know who she wa
s? It felt like a trick, almost.

  Except he’d seen the blood all over her face. Even now, he could see the bruises coloring up. She was gonna have two black eyes, and her nose would probably be purple for a while.

  “I remember my name is Cass,” she told him in a faint voice. “But that’s about all I remember.”

  Before he could comment on that, she sagged against the counter, and his instincts kicked in. Eli quickly moved to her side and slid an arm around her waist. “You need to sit down. I’ve got you.”

  She clung to his arm, her fingers cold through his sleeve. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I guess I’m a bit more tired than I thought. I’m really sorry—”

  “Quit apologizin’,” he told her as he tucked her body against him and more or less hauled her into the living room. “Ain’t like you tried to run your car into a tree on purpose, did you?” The couch was still covered with the blankets he’d left with her, and he guided her toward it. Frannie had made herself a nest at the far end of the sofa and he snapped his fingers and pointed at the floor. The dog immediately raced to where he pointed, bouncing around like the other two. To them, this was a fun game. They loved company.

  In that, Eli differed very much from the dogs.

  “I hate feeling weak,” the woman protested. Cass, he reminded himself. Her name was Cass. It was pretty enough. Kinda delicate, like her.

  “I suppose anyone’d feel weak if they got their head smashed into a windshield like you did,” he told her gruffly as he helped her sit down on the end of the sofa. He didn’t like how she collapsed against it as if she had no strength at all. “Not your fault I’m stuck with you through this blizzard.”

  Jordy would laugh at him, all right. Dustin would probably try to stake his claim, deciding that the woman was better for him than Eli. Not that Eli wanted her, of course. Didn’t matter that she had the prettiest eyes or that she fit under his arm like she was made for him. She wasn’t from around here, which meant she wouldn’t be staying. Eli had learned that girls like her were just heartbreak waiting to happen, so he didn’t want anything to do with them.

  “What?” Her eyes went wide, the bright blue of them searching his face.

  Damn it. Now he’d gone and said too much. Eli pursed his lips, wonderin’ if it was too late to take back those words. Guess so, judging from her reaction. Best to bluff through it. “Which part threw you?”

  Her mouth worked silently as she gazed up at him. Damn it, did she have to have such gorgeous eyes? He was having a hard time concentrating with her looking up at him like that. It made it hard to think. “You’re . . . stuck with me?” She gasped, trying to get up from the couch.

  He put a hand on her shoulder, pushing her back down. “Stay there. Frannie, come here.” He pointed at the woman’s lap, and the big dog immediately moved forward, climbing over her thighs and settling herself in. “Good girl. Don’t be trying to get up. You had a hard knock on your head and you need to rest. Frannie’ll pin you down if she has to. Hope you ain’t allergic.”

  “Not me,” she said, and then frowned. “Someone is.”

  “Who?” Her man? Why did that thought bother him so much? Just because she was pretty and vulnerable didn’t mean she was there to hit on. That wouldn’t be right.

  “I don’t know.” She bit her lip. “Is that why you’re stuck with me?”

  Man, she sure was fixated on those words. “Well, you can’t exactly drive your car down the mountain, seeing as half of it’s all over the road.”

  She winced. “I don’t know how I did that. Normally I’m such a careful driver. I think.” She fluttered her hand toward her brow again. “It feels like something that I’d be. Careful.”

  “Mmm.”

  “I might be wrong.” She looked woebegone. “I don’t remember anything.”

  “Anything at all?”

  Again, she shook her head.

  Well, damn. “You hit your head,” he told her unnecessarily. “I’m sure you just need to rest and your memory’ll come back to you soon enough.”

  “Okay,” Cass said, voice quavery. “And you and I, we’re not . . . ?”

  “No.” Maybe his voice was a little too firm, too emphatic, because she blushed, and then he could feel his own cheeks heating. “I don’t know you.”

  “I see.” She glanced around and her hand slid onto Frannie’s back, petting her. Frannie licked her arm, tail wagging, and a little smile crossed the woman’s face. “This isn’t my dog, right? I seem to recall something about . . . about animals. But I don’t think she’s mine.”

  “She’s mine,” he told her, a little gruff. “Her name’s Francesca. Frannie. The others are Jim and Bandit.”

  “Hi, Frannie,” Cass said in the sweetest voice, and Frannie wiggled with excitement. “Your owner sure likes to feed you, because you’re crushing my legs.”

  He had to chuckle at that. “If you promise to stay down, I’ll get her off you.”

  “I promise. I’m not sure where I’d go even if I was up.” She tried to smile, but he could tell it was difficult for her, and he felt guilty. Maria would know what to do in all this. She was the one that was good with people. Eli, well, Eli was good with cattle. And hard work. Not pretty women. Not wounded, fragile women. Certainly not strangers.

  “Well, if she bothers you, let me know,” he added, patting a nearby cushion so the dog would hop off Cass’s lap.

  “Oh, she’s not a bother. I love dogs.” She frowned to herself immediately. “I think. I guess that’s not a big deal. Everyone loves dogs, don’t they?” Her hand went to her brow and she rubbed the edges of her bruise again. “I feel like I’m supposed to be somewhere.”

  “Well, there wasn’t anyone in the car with you. So if you’re meeting a boyfriend or a husband, he’s just gonna have to wait for the storm to clear up.” Now he sounded really damned surly, and he wasn’t sure why. Maybe because Cass deserved better? If she had a man and he made her drive that car up the mountains, he was an idiot and she definitely deserved better.

  “Maybe,” she said, but she didn’t sound convinced. “So the storm’s that bad?”

  “Couple feet of snow in a few hours. The pass here’s gonna fill up overnight and then the roads won’t be passable until we get a good melt. You’re gonna be here a while.”

  “Oh. I guess I’m lucky you found me. Thank you.” Her voice was small and full of wonder. Or confusion. Was hard to tell. “Say, what’s today?”

  “Nineteenth of December.”

  Cass’s eyes flicked with recognition. “It’s almost Christmas. Maybe that’s what I feel like I’m missing.” She glanced around. “Do you not celebrate?”

  “Not much.”

  Her expression turned to one of sympathy. “Is it because you’re here by yourself at Christmas?”

  He scowled. “You make it sound like that’s a bad thing.”

  She shrank back. “Of course it’s not. I just thought . . .” She shook her head. “Never mind. It’s not important.”

  No, it wasn’t. The fact that he wasn’t a big fan of Christmas wasn’t anyone’s business. “You need anything?” When she shook her head, he grunted. “You can stay in my room tonight and I’ll sleep on the couch. We’ll figure the rest out in the morning.” There were other rooms in the house, of course, but they belonged to other people and he didn’t feel right about sleeping in someone else’s bed when they weren’t there. The couch was fine.

  “All right,” she said softly, and then he felt like an ass for making her uncomfortable. Then he wanted to smack himself. This was his home. Why should he be the one that was uncomfortable? She was intruding on his peace and quiet. He was gonna have enough to do over the next couple of weeks taking care of the cattle by himself and running the ranch alone. He didn’t have time for a woman, much less a pretty, clueless one sitting around and asking him why he wasn’t celebrati
ng Christmas.

  If he wasn’t overly friendly, that was just too damn bad for her.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Her savior was kind of a jerk.

  Handsome and rugged, but definitely a jerk.

  Cass was silent as she followed him into his bedroom, where she’d be sleeping for the night. He didn’t say much, just pointed at the bed, then at her, and then left, Frannie wagging her tail and following at his heels. The other dogs, Bandit and Jim, just kind of stared at her for a moment, and then they left, too. She closed the door behind him and then leaned against it.

  Her head hurt.

  Her chest hurt.

  Her heart hurt, and it wasn’t even injured.

  Her brain felt like mush.

  She couldn’t remember squat. This guy didn’t like her, and she was stuck with him until the snow melted and the pass through the mountains was clear. Too bad she didn’t know what mountains, what pass, or even what she was doing here. And he didn’t give her any answers.

  Heck, he didn’t even give her his name.

  Cass sighed heavily and pushed off from the door. If he wasn’t going to give her answers, she was just going to have to get them on her own. She moved around the room, leaning heavily on the furniture for support because her knees still felt weak and shaky. The room itself was fairly sparse. There was a queen-sized bed in the center of the room with natural, rustic wood for the frame. A dark blue quilt covered the bed and there was only one pillow. On the nightstand, there was a picture of a tiny white ball of fluff that must have been Frannie as a puppy. There were no pictures of family or friends, no clutter, no nothing that would mark this place as someone’s home. There was no television set, no Xbox or DVDs. It might have been a hotel room for all of its personality, and that struck her as odd. For a moment, she’d thought that maybe her savior had reacted weirdly to her question about him being her husband because he already had a wife or girlfriend somewhere, but surely he’d have pictures of her? And if she didn’t live here, wouldn’t he have a laptop so he could Skype with her? Something?