On a Snowy Christmas Night

So what on earth was this fluttering sensation over Jesse? Because he was nice? Because he paid her some attention? God, she hoped not. That would make her too much like her mother.

Taking a deep breath, she tried to relax as he helped her into the saddle. He was merely being polite, she reminded herself. Her flustered reactions were her problem, not his. What made the situation more difficult was the whole touching thing. Jesse was so casual about brushing her arm, tucking the blanket around her shoulders, cupping the back of her lower calf to make sure her foot was anchored in the stirrup. His hand had even accidentally grazed the front of her jacket earlier and he hadn’t batted an eye.

“The wind has picked up. It’ll be chilly riding back down. You ought to keep this around you.” He offered the blanket, and as if reading her mind, added, “We’ll take it nice and easy.”

“Thank you,” she said and exchanged Rambo’s reins for the blanket.

Jesse swung up into his saddle and nudged the gelding into the lead. The horse hadn’t advanced more than two feet when Jesse reined him in again. He eyed the struggle she was having with the blanket. Folding it in half made it more manageable as a shawl, but the wool was thick and heavy, and she was afraid she’d lose it halfway down the hill.

“Here.” He leaned over and helped her arrange the blanket so that her shoulders and arms were covered, yet she could still keep a firm grip.

She sighed. “You must think I’m twelve.”

He gave her that slow, easy smile of his. “Trust me, that’s not what I think.”

She didn’t understand her reaction. It was physical, tense, but not like being trapped. And then there was the oddly pleasant apprehension in the pit of her stomach. Maybe it was the way his voice had lowered or the way his gaze roamed her face then lingered briefly on her lips. They were chapped. He was probably about to tell her to pick up some medicated balm while she was in town.

His eyes met hers, and he wasn’t smiling anymore. “Ready?”

Nodding, she stared at the slight tic in his jaw and hoped she hadn’t somehow annoyed him. She waited for him to go first and concentrated on clutching both the reins and the blanket. It was useless to try to figure out what had just happened. She was horrible at that sort of thing. Computer glitches? She was a whiz. But human glitches, she was better off ignoring.

When he reached the bottom of the slope he turned around and waited for her. That only made her more self-conscious and she wished he’d kept going. “Okay?” he asked.

“Fine.”

“You can give Gypsy her head. She’ll follow Rambo until we get to flatter ground.”

Shea smiled.

“You still laughing at my horse’s name?”

“It is funny.”

“You’re gonna hurt his feelings.”

“With a name like Rambo? I don’t think so.”

Jesse laughed. It was a great sound. He leaned back and adjusted his hat while he watched her and Gypsy finish tackling the descent.

“You’re making me nervous,” she finally admitted. “Keep going. You don’t have to wait.”

“Yeah, I do, but I won’t watch. How’s that?” he said, amusement in his voice as he wheeled his horse around.

She darted a look from the rocky snow-dusted ground to his broad shoulders. “Not much better,” she murmured.

“What was that?”

“Nothing.” She held her breath until she and Gypsy were safely down the slope and standing beside Jesse.

He eyed the blanket that was again sagging off her back but he made no move to fix it. Crazily, she wished that he would. It was only curiosity, an experiment to see if she felt anything from him touching her again.

Her gaze was drawn to the shallow cleft in his chin, already dark with stubble. The flutter picked up, right behind her breastbone, and suddenly she was anxious to get back to the Sundance. To be in her car and away from the bewildering McAllisters.

Away from Jesse.

5

ARMED WITH BOTH a GPS and written directions, early the next morning Shea drove down the narrow bumpy highway toward Safe Haven. Sadly, she’d already finished the coffee from the to-go mug Rachel had fixed her. Although she would’ve loved more caffeine, the never-ending potholes and misty dimness around her were enough to keep her hands firmly gripping the wheel and her eyes wide and alert.

Only when she saw the sign for the Safe Haven turnoff did she feel comfortable reaching for the cheese crackers in her purse. She was starving. Last night’s dinner had consisted of a diet cola she’d picked up in town along with her new gloves and thermal underwear. Rachel had tried to get her to join the family for dinner but Shea had refused, and while she’d turned down the full breakfast Rachel had offered, she had grabbed a warm muffin on the way out.

It wasn’t about not being a bother anymore. She worried that it would’ve been awkward seeing Jesse. More than likely the problem was in her head. They’d had a perfectly nice ride yesterday. She couldn’t have asked for a more courteous guide. They’d even talked a little on the way back. Nothing major, small talk, really… Which, come to think of it, was kind of major since she was so notoriously bad at it that she tried her best to keep to herself.

After inhaling the crackers, she nibbled away at her muffin as she searched for signs of the shelter. The land was flat out here to the east of town. There were a few trees and scrub brush but nothing like she’d seen on her ride with Jesse. At least it was easy to see what was coming up ahead, especially now that the sky was lightening up. She was licking the last crumbs from her fingers when she saw the big weathered barn. Two smaller wooden buildings sat off to the side, and Shea thought she could see the words Safe Haven etched on a plank stuck to a post.

Slowing the vehicle, she made the turn and pulled the rental alongside an old green pickup splattered with mud. Another truck was parked closer to the gate, but that was it, no sign anyone else was around. Of course, she was early.

“Welcome.”

She heard someone calling to her even before she closed the car door.

“Over here. By the barn.” The woman was tall and lean, her blond hair pulled into a long ponytail that swung back and forth as she waved her gloved hand. She wore badly faded jeans patched at the knees and a heavy brown parka that had a tear near the shoulder.

Shea acknowledged her with a reciprocal wave, then pocketed her keys. Deciding to leave her purse on the floorboard of the car, she met the woman halfway. “Are you Annie?”

“I am. And I bet you’re one of our new volunteers.” Annie pulled off a glove and extended her hand. “Shea Monroe, I’m guessing.”

“You’re right.” Shea couldn’t say why, but she’d expected someone older. Annie looked to be in her late twenties, maybe thirty, and so friendly that Shea didn’t hesitate to shake the woman’s hand.

“I cheated.” Annie grinned. “The other two volunteers called to say they’d be an hour late.”

“Ah.” She smiled back, wondering if the Montana air had something to do with her newfound ease. “And here I’m early. Hope it isn’t a problem.”

“Are you kidding? I never turn down help with chores.” She studied Shea for a moment, glancing at her jeans and boots. “I don’t suppose you brought a pair of work gloves with you.”

“Oh… I did.” She dug the keys out of her pocket and used the remote to unlock the Toyota’s rear door. The gloves were still in the package but she removed them, then used her teeth to break through the binding plastic ring. “I bought them in town yesterday. Jesse suggested I’d need something better than what I’d brought with me.”

“Jesse?” Annie said, her brows arched in surprise.

“Jesse McAllister.” Shea felt funny suddenly. Though she hadn’t said anything wrong… she didn’t think.… “I’m staying at the Sundance.”

“That’s right. Rachel mentioned it. You won’t meet a nicer family.”

“They’ve been wonderful. I hate that I’m imposing but I was desperate.” She walked with Annie toward the barn, taking an extra step every few feet in order to keep up with Annie’s mile-long legs.

“I’ve only known the McAllisters for two years, but I doubt you’re intruding. Number one, they’re very supportive of the shelter and are happy you’re volunteering. And secondly, if you got Jesse to talk long enough to recommend gloves, then I’m sure they all love you to pieces.” Annie stopped to pick up the bucket she’d left in the entryway of the barn. “If you don’t mind, I’ll wait until Molly and Hank, the other volunteers, arrive before I give a tour.”

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