Cassie stared up at the beam in the ceiling overhead, testing out her limbs and taking a mental inventory. Her head ached—okay, all of her ached—but it wasn’t as bad as she’d expected. She sat up, stretching out her legs and arms and wiggling her fingers and toes, before carefully standing. After spending the night wrapped around Bert and Ernie, it felt good to be up.
The fire had burned down, a few flames casting the room in a dim glow. Last night, she’d been too out of it to take note of her surroundings. All that mattered had been getting out of the cold and finding shelter for her, the dogs and puppies. Sterling had managed to do all three.
Sterling. The man whistle-snoring softly before the fire. From where she stood, the recliner he occupied looked child-sized beneath him. One hand rested on the puppy box at his side, as if he were ready and waiting for the next feeding.
Cassie stooped to peer inside the quiet box right when one puppy stretched fully, his little legs stiffening as far as they could go before his whole body relaxed. The other pup was curled up against its sibling, whimpering softly until the first puppy stopped moving and they could both doze off again. While she’d slept, Sterling had taken care of them.
She turned all her attention back to the man. His feet dangled off the extended footstool of the leather recliner, and his head was tilted back to rest on the top of the chair back. His too-long black hair stuck up in every direction. He looked young—reminding her of a long-ago summer. A good memory. Warm and peaceful and golden. They’d spent the better part of that day swimming around Granite Falls Lake. There’d been nothing like an icy dip in clear water when there were triple-digit daily temps—or the brush of Sterling’s fingers along her bare stomach. He’d loved her pink bikini and she’d loved the way he looked at her when she was wearing it. He’d fallen asleep beside her, one arm draping over her and his hand against her side.
For Cassie, that summer had been one of the most magical times of her life.
A roar of the wind outside blew the memory away, but the ache in her heart remained.
He’d come to her rescue last night, but that didn’t mean she should go all warm and fuzzy over him. He was attractive, that was a fact. She noticed, also a fact. But she wasn’t going to let that cloud her judgment or erase the bitter end to their relationship. How could she?
Bert and Ernie slipped off the couch, trailing after her into the kitchen. The click of their nails on the wood floor made her glance back at Sterling. He was still snoring away.
Good thing he was a heavy sleeper. He needed sleep. Last night hadn’t been a picnic for either of them. She might have the scratches and bruises, but he was the one who’d done the rescuing, cleanup and taken care of her and the puppies—all in the middle of a snowstorm.
A snowstorm that’s still raging.
Texas was known for unpredictable weather, but this took the cake. A light snowfall, ice on the roadways and a nip in the air was what winter normally looked like. A snowstorm—a blizzard even—was unheard of in these parts. She pulled aside one of the Southwestern-print curtains to peer outside. Sure enough, Sterling’s truck was being buffeted with a mix of ice pellets and snow flurries. The strength of the wind only added momentum—the rat-a-tat and clink of ice on the roof was audible whenever there was a lull in the wind.
Bert pushed his nose against her hand, whimpering once.
“You need to go out?” She frowned, the view through the window bleak. “Of course, you do.” She gave Bert an absentminded pat on the head. She held up her hand, giving the scratches a once-over. There was no pain or redness, so the ointment seemed to be working.
Both dogs stared up at her, tails wagging.
“It’s cold out there, so you better get your business done. And quick.” She sighed. “Understand?”
“I think they do.” The recliner creaked as Sterling sat up. Running a hand over his face, he yawned, ending on a long, loud groan.
Even though they’d spent the night under the same roof, this was different. She wasn’t dazed or confused anymore—she was wary. Cassie tried not to stare as he stood, stretching his arms high over his head so that his shirt pulled up just enough to display a toned back and an angry-looking scar. “I... I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“I was up about two hours ago. These two don’t miss a meal. It’s been almost two hours so they’ll be sounding off and letting me know it was time to get up anyway.” He joined her to peer out between the open curtains. Hands on hips, his expression turned grim. He knocked on the window. “Glad they have double-paned windows.” He tugged the curtains apart. “We can leave these open and let in some light.”
The day outside was grim, but after he’d opened all the curtains, there was plenty of light to see everything. She scanned the interior, taking in the abundant holiday decorations with a smile. There was no rhyme or reason to the decor and no theme beyond Christmas. As a result, it resembled Santa’s workshop—if the elves had gone on strike, thrown decorations all over in rebellion and then added colored strands of lights everywhere. She was suddenly grateful there was no power.
“How are you feeling?” He glanced her way.
“A little sore, but fine.” Which was sort of true.
“A little?” Clearly, he didn’t believe her.
“Much better than last night.” Which was the truth.
“These two needing to go out?” He smiled down at the dogs.
Bert and Ernie were all wiggly, their tails and backsides swaying with excitement as Sterling stooped before them.
Traitors. Cassie watched as both dogs circled Sterling, Bert dropping onto his back for a tummy rub while Ernie leaned heavily against Sterling’s side. From their enthusiasm, she couldn’t stop herself from asking, “Do you have jerky hidden somewhere? They don’t normally fall all over themselves for affection like this.”
Sterling laughed, patting his shirt front and jean pockets. “Not that know of.” His eyes swiveled up to meet hers. “Maybe they remember me?” His smile faded some and his gaze fell from hers.
She didn’t feel much like smiling now either. He’d left them—just like he’d left her—so she hoped they didn’t remember him. They hadn’t seemed all that bothered, but she’d been so walled in by her own grief she might not have noticed. Petty or not, she needed to be careful about them getting attached only for him to leave. Again.
Sterling cleared his throat. “Or... What’s that saying about dogs and babies being the best judge of character?”
Which meant Sterling’s character had been completely overhauled or her dogs were just nice to everyone. She was pretty sure it was the latter. Sterling looked familiar and had been nothing but cordial, but it was too early to assume he’d given up drinking. She’d believed she knew him inside and out once, but she couldn’t have been more wrong. The Sterling that put his fist through a wall and yelled at her to stop lying to him was nothing like the man she’d loved. This Sterling might as well be a stranger. She needed to remember that.
“I’ll take them.” Sterling was shrugging into his thick coat. “I need to get something out of the truck and check for more firewood, anyway.” He zipped up his coat and tugged on calfskin-leather gloves. “You should take it easy, Cassie. Rest.” His gaze darted her way, the muscle in his jaw tightening. “Please.”
“I will. You don’t need to worry over me anymore.” It wasn’t exactly subtle, but she hoped he’d get the message. She could take care of herself. Him hovering, suggesting what she should do under the guise of concern was a classic Mike move. It set the hair along the back of her neck straight up. She’d let Sterling take the dogs out because her head hurt, she ached all over and he was already going outside. Right then, her stomach growled, long and loud. “After I make us some breakfast.” She pressed a hand to her belly. “A girl’s got to eat.” The sooner she got some food in her, the better.
“No arguments from me.” Sterling chuckled and then studied her for a minute, his bright eyes sweeping over the cut at her temple. “If you’re sure you’re up to it.”
“I am.” She eyed the bizarre collection of foodstuffs he’d unpacked onto the countertop the night before. “This will be interesting. But I see coffee. We’re saved.” She reached for the massive can of coffee and patted it on the lid. “I’ll start with that.”
“No arguments from me.” He chuckled. “There’s a bunch of stuff in the pantry, too. Read that.” He pointed at an envelope on the counter. “We’ll be right back.”
“Be careful.” The roar of the wind was anything but hospitable.
“Always.” When he pulled open the front door, a blast of cold wind had the fire sputtering and a whirl of white snowflakes rushing into the main room. “Come on, boys.” He waved the dogs out and followed, fighting to pull the door shut behind him.
Cassie shivered, hugging herself. Through the kitchen window, she watched Bert and Ernie do their business a few steps from the porch. Sterling leaned into the wind and headed for his truck.
She pushed off the kitchen counter and found the coffeepot. When Sterling returned, he’d be frozen through. She scooped in the suggested amount, then added another scoop for good measure. Today was a strong-coffee sort of day. She picked up the envelope with Sterling’s name on it and pulled out the note—on sugarplum Christmas stationery. “Of course.” It wasn’t a long note. The owner had left a cheery welcome and gone on to explain the cookie dough, eggnog and a whole variety of holiday treats were for Sterling to enjoy.
“Cookie dough?” She pulled open the refrigerator. “There it is.” The homeowners had gone out of their way to stock the place with all things holiday cheer. Eggnog. Stockings full of candy. The makings of s’mores and hot chocolate. Gingerbread and sugar-cookie dough, tubes of icing, and jars of sprinkles to decorate with. “I guess we can bake cookies if things get boring?”
A few minutes later, the door opened and a blast of cold air announced the return of Sterling and both dogs.
“It’s colder than a polar bear’s pajamas.” Sterling leaned against the front door, breathing hard and red-faced.
“I’ve never heard that one.” Cassie poured two cups of coffee and set one on the counter for him. She knelt by the dogs, giving them a quick rubdown with one of the towels she’d found in the bathroom.
“I learned it from Yvonne’s kid, Joey. That kid’s got buckets of bad sayings.” He swiped the dusting of snow from his coat with one hand. “Found some more wood.”
Yvonne? The woman he’d been talking to that day at the Frosty King. Were they an item? And Joey. Was Joey his stepson? None of my business. “Thanks for taking them out.” She nodded at the cup. “Coffee.”
“Today’s already looking up.” He added the wood to the pile along the stone wall before joining her at the counter. He lifted his mug, took a deep sip and sighed with appreciation. “Now, that’s what I call coffee.” When he took another sip, she could see the crinkles at the corner of his eyes. He was smiling. Over the rim of the mug, his deep, fathomless, dark eyes swept over her.
It’s a smile. People smiled at one another. It was no big deal. But the tightening in her chest and the waver of her indrawn breath suggested otherwise. “If it doesn’t put some hair on your chest, what’s the point in drinking it?” She sipped her coffee, doing her best not to dwell on who Yvonne or how the warmth in his gaze seemed to spread and catch in her stomach. This was bad. This was very bad. After the hate he spewed her way, she couldn’t want him. She tore her gaze away, pleased her voice showed no sign of her internal distress. “You two go lie in front of the fire and warm up.” She stood, damp towel in hand, and watched as her dogs trotted over to the braided rug before the fire and curled up together.
“You speak dog?” Sterling hung up his coat, tucking his gloves back into the pockets.
“I think we’ve come to understand one another.” He’d been the one to give her Bert and Ernie as two tiny pups and told her they were their first babies. For her, it had been a promise of the future they’d have together. Boy, was I wrong... “After all, it’s been the three of us for some time.”
His jaw tightened enough to tell her he hadn’t missed her dig.
Right. Instead of continuing her stroll down memory lane, she should find something productive to do. Her stomach sounded off. “So... I’m breaking into a gift basket for breakfast.” She eyed the torn decorative plastic wrap and jumbled mess of smashed pastries and crumbling muffins inside. “Technically, one was for the veterinary clinic, so we’re not stealing from anyone.” She unloaded the treats onto a candy cane–striped platter. “Our hosts appear to take Christmas seriously.” As in, everything in the cabin had some Christmas element. “It’s everywhere.”
He nodded at the mantel. “You noticed, huh? You should see the bedroom.”
She glanced at the closed, wreath-adorned door. “Now I know what I’m doing after breakfast.” Alone. She needed a little less Sterling crowding in on her.
Halfway through a muffin, Sterling said, “They might not look too nice, but they taste pretty damn good. I could eat a dozen of them.”
She believed it, too. Sterling Ford had always been a big man. Tall and broad and intimidating—to those who didn’t know him. To her, he’d always been... Sterling. Big, sure. Playful. Strong. And, she’d thought, fiercely loyal. Too bad she’d seen what she wanted to see instead of the truth. She’d believed him when he’d said she was who mattered most and that he could only imagine his future with her at his side. Maybe he’d meant it when he said it and...things changed? Or it was all a lie from the get-go?
Sterling took a sip of coffee, his gaze meeting hers over the rim of his mug.
That was all it took to make her cheeks go hot. She turned her attention to her chocolate croissant.
“Not hungry?” He gestured at her plate with his coffee mug.
It was only then that she realized she’d torn her chocolate croissant into small pieces and arranged them into a circle. “Oh...” She popped a piece into her mouth.
A small crease settled between his dark brows. “What’s bothering you, Cassie? Don’t deny it, I can tell. You do that. Twist your hair like that.”
“Twist my hair?” What was he talking about? She let go of the long strand of hair she’d been toying with.
“You just did it.” His brows rose. “I saw you.”
“You’re seeing things.” She smoothed a hand over her hair.
He sighed. “Whatever. Don’t believe me, but I know what I’m talking about. You’ve always done it. That night we snuck out and you had to call your brother to come pull my truck out when the creek flooded? You did that hair-twist thing and Buzz had known you were lying.”
“You mean, when you tried to cross, even though I told you not to?” She pushed back. No. Stop. She was not going to reminisce with him over one of their long-ago romantic rendezvous.
“You did. I should have listened.” His eyes met hers, flashing with something that had her pulse tripping, then picking up speed. “You always told me the truth—”
“Whoa. Sterling.” She set her mug down with a little too much force. No way, no how. “We might be stranded together but that doesn’t mean we need to have some sort of heart-to-heart. If anything, that would turn this already uncomfortable situation into an unbearable one.” She took a deep breath, searching for the right words. “I need you to listen, okay?”
Sterling rested his coffee cup on the counter, gripping it with both hands, and held his breath. She had every right to tear him into little pieces and chew him up—just like her damn breakfast. Instead, she was asking him to listen, so he would. It was hard to swallow the lump in his throat, harder still to say, “Okay.”
“Whatever happened between us was a long time ago.” She wasn’t looking at him—she was tearing the small pieces of croissant into tinier bits, mashing them between her fingertips. “Nothing either of us can say can change what happened.”
He nodded.
“We could not talk about the past. We could, I don’t know, pretend you’re a stranger who found me on the side of the road and brought me here.” There was a hint of desperation in her voice. “No baggage. No stress. It’d be easier for both us, really, since we are literally stuck here. With no escape.” She gestured around the cabin with a shaking hand.
Which was all valid. “I’ve learned the easy way is rarely the right way, Cassie.”
“Is that a no?” She took a deep breath. “No, we’re not pretending, we are going to drag it all out and make each other miserable?” She ran her fingers over the cut on her other hand. “Haven’t we done that enough? I’ve spent more than enough time letting thoughts of you make me miserable. You might have done the same.”
Except she’d never done a damn thing to make him miserable. He’d been the fool that gave in to a pattern he knew wasn’t healthy. He’d made himself miserable. And dammit, she didn’t know how heavy his past actions weighed on him. There were times that the self-loathing made it hard to look his reflection in the eye.
Cassie had given him everything—every part of her—and he’d been too blind to see the gift she was. She was one of the few people who knew just how brutal his childhood had been. She’d listened when he’d punched walls and ranted about his father’s cruelty and offered him unconditional love and comfort. He hadn’t had much of either since they’d parted ways.
“Can’t we wait?” He didn’t miss the slight tremor in her hands. “At least until we’re not stuck here? You might not want to hear some of what I have to say, so I think waiting is a good idea.”
He could wait. He’d been waiting. But would she really stop and listen once she was free to go her own way? It might make things uncomfortable, but now seemed like the time to say what needed saying. “I understand, Cassie. But last time I tried this, things didn’t go so well. I don’t want a repeat performance. We’re here, alone, without interruption.”
She shot him a seriously? kind of look. “So, are we ripping off the damn Band-Aid? That’s what you want?” She ran her hands over her face.
“We can ease into it.” He shoved his hands into his pockets, his stomach in knots.
She shoved the remainder of her croissant into her mouth. “I’m hungry, remember?” She inspected the slightly smashed pastries before selecting a sausage roll. “I might not be, once we’re done talking.”
“These are from the new bakery?” He waited for her nod. “How long has Reggie been in Granite Falls?” He sat on the bar stool and watched her take a bite of sausage roll.
“About a year?” She paused, then nodded. “Maybe a little longer.”
“Granite Falls has grown since I was here last. In a good way, from what I can tell. That new high school is something.” He’d gotten what he wanted and now he was dodging. They both knew it.
Cassie frowned at him. “Well, you’ve been gone a long time—” She cut herself off. “The town is growing, you’re right about that. So is the population. The Mitchell brothers are all married with kids. Buzz is engaged. The high school football team made it to district the last three years. And there’s talk of the city putting in a splash park down along the river. So, you’re all caught up on Granite Falls. Basically, everyone has moved on. Life keeps on moving.”
He envied Buzz. And the Mitchells. He’d tried to date, but it never worked. He’d tried, but the only woman he’d ever clicked with was Yvonne. Not romantically, more like the sister he’d never had. Yvonne was a good friend—along with her husband and little boy.
“Jenna was at bingo. Buzz’s Jenna.” Cassie sipped her coffee, then looked at him. “I guess you weren’t introduced?”
He’d forgotten how clear her blue eyes were. “Was she the one keeping Buzz from jumping me at bingo?”
Cassie sighed again, clearly exasperated. “He was not going to jump you.” But a crease formed between her arched brows. “I’d like to think he wouldn’t, anyway. But then, I didn’t know about you visiting or the...altercation you two had.” She swallowed, hard. “I’m beginning to think there might be more I didn’t know about.” Her blue eyes grew intense, searching.
It took everything to keep breathing. This wasn’t supposed to be this hard.
“What about you?” She took a sip of her coffee. “What have you been up to?”
“I’ve been putting a lot of miles on my truck, mostly.” He was always on the go, one motel room after another.
Her gaze narrowed the tiniest bit. “Why are you putting miles on your truck?”
“Work.”
She made an exasperated sound before asking, “Work... Which has something to do with livestock, I hear?” she added, her eyes narrowing a bit. “And rodeo, too?”
“I’m cleared to ride.” But since he’d broken his back, the urge to ride was gone.
“I guess that’s nice?” She propped her other elbow on the counter and leaned in. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. You really need to slow down because you’re overwhelming me with all the information you’re sharing.” Her brows rose high.
Sterling laughed. Cassie was feeling better. “That’s it. You know everything there is to know.” He was smiling as he reached for a sausage roll. “I live a pretty uneventful life.”
She continued to stare at him, oozing impatience.
“What?” He took a bite.
“You wanted to talk and you said maybe ten words about yourself.” She cocked her head to one side, waiting.
“Well, when I’m not on the road going to rodeos or contracting stock animals, I’ve got a small place in Canyon, Texas. The university up there has a rodeo team and I help out now and then.” He paused, not adding he was almost finished with his degree. That was something he was doing for himself. His dad didn’t care what he did anymore, Sterling didn’t need to prove himself to anyone but himself. If he failed, well, there’d be no one to be disappointed in him. But she was still studying him, so he asked. “Think we’ve eased into it enough?”
She pulled a strand of hair over her shoulder, twisting it around her finger—making him smile. “I... I guess.”
She’d been staring at him long enough that he felt he’d earned the right to do the same. The scratches on her temple. The bruise around them. Not red or inflamed, he noted with relief. Everything else was the same. Beautiful.
She blinked rapidly, her cheeks going a soft pink. “You...you said horrible things, Sterling.” She pushed off the counter, slid off her stool and started cleaning up.
The anguish in her voice slammed into him. He watched her, his heart thudding so hard in his chest it was a wonder she couldn’t hear it. “I was a damn fool.”
One eyebrow was arched high. “You were.”
“I’d gotten into my head.” He tapped his fingers on the kitchen counter. “It wasn’t a good place to be. Especially back then.”
She looked around the room, avoiding his gaze.
“You want to sit for a bit? Rest?” He paused, holding up his hands. “I’m asking, not telling. I’ll make some more coffee, if you like?” He didn’t want her overdoing it.
“Okay.” She brushed past him to sit on the couch, staring into the fire as she pulled a throw over her legs. “Is your head a better place to be now?” She glanced his way.
Sterling stood and went about making another pot of coffee. “Some days are better than others.”
“You didn’t say that then. You said it was me. You made me believe it was me.” She pushed off the couch, wrapped the throw around her and stood, staring at him. “At first, I looked for you. I thought, if I could get you to talk to me, you could tell me what I’d done and I’d change it. I needed you to know I wasn’t trying to change you or get in your way.”
He rested his head against the kitchen cabinet. She’d done nothing wrong, but he’d let her think otherwise. He turned on the coffeepot and headed into the living room, sick to his stomach. He was a selfish bastard. He’d let her think it was her. Because she believed him.
“Why did you say that? Why did you call me a liar?” Her voice broke.
Sterling was across the room in no time, but she dodged his attempts to reach for her. He stopped moving then, running his fingers through his hair. “Because. Because it didn’t make sense for you to want to be with me. Why would you love me?” He shook his head, knowing he sounded pathetic but wanting to be honest.
She stared at him in shock. “I’m supposed to believe this?”
“I hope you will. It’s the truth.” She had no reason to believe him, but—fool that he was—he hoped she would. He’d never felt as small and anxious as he was then. waiting for her to say something. Anything. It was almost a relief when the puppy box started to whimper-howl. He wasn’t one for baring his soul—unless it was with Cassie. He owed it to her.
The puppies kept howling but Cassie didn’t move. Those big blue eyes blinked now and then, but that was it.
“Time to eat.” He headed back into the kitchen. “I’ll make up the bottles.”
Cassie’s answer was soft and garbled. “I can feed them.”
“Hello, you two floofer-puppies. Aren’t you just the sweetest little things?” She picked up the box and placed it on the couch.
Bert and Ernie hopped up beside her to look inside.
“What do you boys think?” Cassie gave each dog a rub on the ear. “These little ones don’t have a home. Be gentle and sweet.”
Sterling watched her gently pick up one of the puppies and cradle it close.
“I bet Bert and Ernie wouldn’t mind being big brothers. Permanently.”
Cassie hardly glanced at him when she took the bottle he offered. “Thank you.”
He didn’t push. They fed the puppies in silence, their grunts and whines and the snap and pop of the fire the only sounds in the small cabin. Even with it storming outside, inside was peaceful. If only he felt as peaceful as the setting. Maybe if she’d said she believed him, he’d feel differently.
Cassie squealed softly. “That’s supposed to go in your tum-tum, little one.” She giggled.
Sterling paused, his heart thudding over the look on Cassie’s face. “Those pups will find no better owner or home than what they have right here.” He held up the puppy he’d finished feeding. “She won’t listen to me, so you’re going to have to tell her.”
Cassie looked his way.
“You speak dog, don’t you?” He waited.
“I’ve had a long time to figure Bert and Ernie out.” She rubbed her finger along the puppy’s nose.
He didn’t point out that the storm raging outside would likely give her plenty of time to figure out what these two wanted before the world went back to normal.
Back to normal. She’d be in Granite Falls. He’d be back on the road. Same as before. He’d been doing well for himself. Work kept him focused enough that he didn’t worry about things like Christmas decorations, bingo at the community center or the hole in his heart.
His gaze bounced from the storm blustering away outside to Cassie, cooing softly at the tiny puppy she was feeding. This was nice. Too nice. It was a glimpse into what he could have had...and made that damn hole impossible to ignore.
The sooner he got back to work, the better.