The Surprise Christmas Bride

“Uh-huh.” He leaned forward in the saddle. “And where’d you bury the groom?”

“It’s a long story.” Her face paled a bit.

“Naturally.”

Tipping her head back, she managed to swing her soggy veil out of her face long enough to look at him. Those green eyes of hers locked onto him, and Jake felt his insides tighten into knots.

“I’ll tell you all about it later,” she said stiffly. “But right now, would you mind helping me?”

No one should be able to look that good covered in mud, he thought absently. Then when desire began to rear its ugly head, he heard himself ask gruffly, “Help you what?”

“Save him.” She wagged her head at the calf still cradled in her arms.

No animal had looked less in need of saving. In fact, Jake admitted silently, he wouldn’t mind trading places with the damn thing. But he remembered clearly that even years ago, she’d had a soft heart for animals. He chuckled slightly as he recalled the year she’d realized hamburgers actually came from cows. She’d been horrified. Probably came from living in town all her life. Hell, the only time she or her brothers ever even saw an animal up close was when they came out to the ranch. Their parents had never allowed their children to have a pet of any kind.

Her brothers. Jeez, it had been a long time since Jake had seen the twins. Of course, between working twenty-five hours a day on the ranch and his brief but memorable marriage to Linda, he hadn’t had time for any of his old friends.

“Jake? Earth to Jake.”

“Huh?” He frowned and forced himself back to the problem at hand. “Oh, yeah. The calf. Save him from what?” He was too wet and cold and tired to be dealing with this. He’d learned long ago that when talking to Casey, it paid to stay alert. Even then, it often wasn’t enough.

“He’s scared,” she said.

“Scared?” Jake’s fingers tightened on the reins. Knowing he would regret it, Jake heard himself ask a question, anyway. “And just what is he scared of?”

“The storm, of course.”

The wind howled through the trees as if to underline her statement, and the calf squirmed against her. Casey’s eyebrows lifted and she nodded shortly as if to say, “See?”

Jake’s teeth ground together. She was as stubborn as ever. And as beautiful, his brain added, even with her hair hanging in limp soggy strands along her cheeks. Even with her wedding dress splotched with mud. Even with her emerald eyes squinted against the downpour. Uneasily Jake watched her widen her stance and wiggle her behind as she struggled to get a better grip on the animal.

Something hard and tight settled in his chest, wrapping itself around his lungs and heart. He struggled to draw a breath. Even after five years she still had the same old effect on him.

For the first time since leaving the ranch house, he was beginning to wish his Jeep wasn’t out of commission. At least then he’d be seated on a nice comfy bucket seat, instead of futilely trying to find a comfortable position in the saddle. Dammit. He’d always enjoyed riding in the rain.

Until now.

Immediately he told himself to get a grip. She was wearing a damned wedding gown. She’d said she was running from a church. But she hadn’t said whether she’d started running before or after the wedding.

The notion of Casey’s being someone else’s wife tightened that cold band around his chest another notch.

Rain pelted his hat and slicker. He felt the slap of each drop and welcomed it. At least he knew what to do about rain. She was another matter entirely.

“Are you going to climb down and help me or not?”

Jake shook his head, tightened his grip on the reins with one hand and rubbed his jaw viciously with the other. There was no way he’d be able to climb down from his horse and walk. Even if his rain slicker did hide his body’s reaction to her, his discomfort would be all too visible.

But he had to do something.

This ridiculous conversation was getting them nowhere.

“Cows live outside,” he said.

The calf bawled piteously.

Casey cooed in sympathy, then flashed Jake a hard look. “He’s just a baby.”

“Who weighs more than you do.”

A deep reverberating sound rolled out around them and Casey half straightened, still keeping her arms around the animal beside her.

“What was that?”

“That would be his mama, I’d bet,” Jake told her when she swiveled her head to look at him.

The calf called a quavering answer and its mother mooed back.

“Here she comes,” Jake said, and dipped his head toward the distant line of trees.

She looked in the direction he indicated and sucked in a quick breath. Mama indeed. A huge cow was lumbering toward her, moving much more quickly than Casey would have thought possible. Apparently her friend didn’t need saving as much as she did at the moment. Immediately she released the calf and started for the man and relative safety.

She grabbed up fistfuls of skirt, hiked the hem past her knees and trudged through the mud. The cow’s hoofbeats pounded against the sodden ground and sounded like native war drums to Casey. It seemed to take forever to cross the few feet of space separating her from the horse, and naturally Jake wasn’t offering the slightest bit of help.

Just as that thought raced through her mind, though, he urged his mount closer, kicked free of a stirrup and held out one hand to her.

She looked up at him and didn’t see even the tiniest flicker of welcome in his blue eyes. She hesitated, glanced over her shoulder at the approaching two tons of offended motherhood and chose the lesser of two evils.

Slapping her hand into his, she felt his long callused fingers fold around hers in a firm grip. Ignoring the warm tingle of awareness sparking between them, she stuffed one muddied stockinged foot into the stirrup and allowed him to pull her up behind him on the saddle.

Immediately Jake turned his horse around and kneed it into a fast walk. After a few feet he pulled back on the reins, bringing the horse to a stop. He turned in the saddle to look behind him, and she shifted to follow his gaze.

She smiled as she watched the calf dip its head below its mother’s belly and nuzzle around for milk. Of course, the cow still didn’t look very happy with the two interfering humans, but at least Casey’s young friend was safe.

And so was she.

“Here,” Jake said, and dropped his hat onto her head.

She tipped the brim back and looked at him.

Rain flattened his thick black hair to his skull, and he reached up to brush it out of his way. His blue eyes were hard as he stared at her, but there was a spark of something else there, as well. Then in a heartbeat it was gone.

“I’ll take you to your car.”

“Don’t bother,” she told him, remembering that loud snap when she’d stomped on the brakes. “I think it’s broken down.”

“Perfect,” Jake grumbled, and turned the horse’s head. “Wrap your arms around my waist,” he said. “It’s about a ten-minute ride to the ranch from here.”

“What about my car?” She pointed at the abandoned convertible.