A Snow Country Christmas (The Carsons of Mustang Creek #4)(24)

8

SHE WAS IN his arms, he was in her bed. Jangles had decided to join them at some point and was sleeping peacefully in a large furry ball at the foot, taking up a good deal of space. Outside the wind had begun to pick up; she could hear the whisper under the eaves.

Raine was physically content, no doubt about that, but emotionally she wasn’t yet she’d made the right decision. Mick had lapsed into a deep sleep, and was breathing peacefully, his tanned chest quite the contrast to the stark-white sheets she preferred.

There was no way she considered her relationship with Slater a mistake because it had given her Daisy, but it had made her cautious about choosing future partners. This man was far more dangerous because he didn’t live nearby, and she liked him too much. Maybe gifting the property to him hadn’t been an act of altruism but a selfish move to get him to spend time in Wyoming.

This relationship was evolving too quickly for her comfort. Mick Branson was a wild card she hadn’t seen in her hand. How to play that hand was the real question. Discard him? No, he didn’t deserve that. Up the ante? That was a definite possibility.

He was intimidating in many ways, but she was used to men like that. All the Carson men were confident, forthright and driven, and she was around them often. Mick was more understated, but he got his way just as effectively, even if he used a memo and not a lasso.

There was more than one kind of cowboy in this world.

She looked at Jangles, who sensed her uncertainty and lifted his head. “What am I supposed to do?” she whispered.

He answered with a very obvious reply by lowering his head and closing his eyes: Just go to sleep.

Sage advice. She took it by relaxing next to Mick and nestling in closer.

*

Snow. Overnight? Nearly two feet of it. Mick had obviously rented the wrong type of car. He had to admit he wasn’t used to shoveling snow in L.A., so the waist-high drift by his luxury car wasn’t a very welcome surprise. He wasn’t positive a big truck could handle it, either.

He accepted a cup of coffee—Raine informed him it was something called Snake River Chocolate Peppermint blend, but it tasted just like coffee to him so he was fine with it—and he settled into a chair in her homey kitchen and took a sip. “I could be snowed in for a bit.”

“No way.” She looked cozy in a long soft pink sweater and worn jeans, her eyes sparkling. “I have backup. I want you to see the cabin in the deep snow like this. We aren’t staying put because of a little snow.”

“A little snow?”

“Hey, it happens here now and then.”

It definitely qualified as the classic winter wonderland outside. The tree in her backyard was like a giant white sculpture. “You’re serious?”

“I am. If it doesn’t move you to see the place after a fresh snowfall, you aren’t the man I think you are.”

“What kind of man do you think I am?”

She put both elbows solidly on the table. “I’ve already pointed out I trust you. If I didn’t, last night wouldn’t have happened.”

It was easy to say softly, “Then I’m glad you do.”

“Me, too.”

That was the response he was hoping for, and damn if this Snake River Chocolate stuff wasn’t pretty good. He’d woken first and Raine had been half draped across him, deliciously nude and disheveled. The lion had been curled up at the foot of the bed and gave him the old stink-eye, but he interpreted approval there, so there had been a telling sense of contentment. Mick smiled lazily. “So, how do you propose we get out to a place that has no real driveway?”

“I have Alice for a reason.”

“Do I even want to know who Alice is?”

“More like a what than a who. My snowmobile. It’s very handy around these parts.” She daintily sipped her peppermint coffee.

“You named it?” He was amused but not surprised. Raine would do something like that.

“Of course. We’ll go look at the property in the daylight and then we can go pick up Daisy.”

It wasn’t his usual mode of travel but he wasn’t without a sense of adventure. “I assume you know how to drive one, since I don’t.”

“I was practically born on one. I’m a December baby. My father took my mother to the hospital on a snowmobile. I can drive it in my sleep.”

At least he was in good hands. “I bet she enjoyed that.”

“I’m sure she enjoyed getting to the hospital, either way.”

“There’s a valid point.”

“How would you know? You’re male.”

No way was he going to let her get away with that. “I have feelings, too. Male and childbirth translates to helpless in most cases to control the situation. We’d love to fix it, but we can’t always, and it makes us crazy.”

“You all are crazy anyway, and what would you know about childbirth?”

“I lost a child once.” It was the truth, but he kept it as low key as possible. “That was tough. Like you and Slater, apparently we weren’t meant to be together forever. She got pregnant then miscarried. Our relationship didn’t weather the storm. The child certainly wasn’t planned, but I’d gotten used to the idea of fatherhood, gone to a few appointments, even heard the heartbeat. The sense of loss was acute.”