Gone Country (Rough Riders #14)(72)

He nodded.


“You sure? Because I can’t carry you.” She smirked. “Although, I could probably knock you over and drag you.”


“I can walk.”


He followed her into the living room. She dragged a chair directly in front of the fireplace and ordered, “Sit.”


Boone sat.


She tucked the comforter around his front side. He watched her every move without speaking, his eyes locked on her face, and it made her nervous.


“How about if I make you hot tea.” She practically ran to the kitchen. Her face was on fire, forcing her to rest her forehead on the cold marble to cool down. Okay. She’d acted like it was no big deal…while she’d freakin’ stripped Boone West.


The water took forever to heat. She grabbed a teabag from Rielle’s cupboard and squirted a bunch of honey into the hot water in case the tea tasted like crap.


Back in the living room, she noticed Sadie had parked herself in front of the fire, her happy little doggie mug resting on Boone’s feet. His eyes were closed.


She nudged his shoulder. “Boone. You’re not supposed to sleep if you’ve been chilled.”


He mumbled, “Tired.”


“Tough. Wake up.”


No response.


She shoved him harder. “Boone. Wake up right now or I’ll call your ambulance buddies here to haul your cold ass to the hospital and wouldn’t that be embarrassing?”


“You’ve got a mean streak, McKay.”


Good. He knew who she was. Sierra was peering directly into his face when those long lashes lifted. He gazed into her eyes so deeply her belly fluttered. Man. He had the prettiest eyes, even when they seemed slightly vacant.


“You want a hot drink?”


“No. Just water.”


“Be right back.”


Upon returning she saw Boone had stirred, removing his hat and lowering the comforter to free his arms. He stroked Sadie’s fur.


“Here.” She handed him the water.


He gulped a couple mouthfuls and wiped his lips with the back of his hand. His eyes were more alert. “How’d an Arizona girl recognize hypothermia symptoms and know treatment procedures?”


“My dad has been grilling me on this since the first week we moved here. He, ah, knows I’d probably walk out in the snow in flip-flops, without a coat, so he’s been horrifying me with worst-case scenarios. I’d tell him that I remembered everything and helped you, but he’d gloat too much.”


“Smart man, teaching you that stuff. Most people who move out here don’t have a clue.” He took another drink of water. “Is your dad around?”


“No, he went to an auction with my uncles and Rielle is in Laramie.”


“I wondered if you’d be here. Didn’t see any cars when I walked up.”


“Walked up? Did you have car trouble or something?”


“I was riding my motorcycle home and the gas gauge must’ve broken or something because it said I had half a tank when I left town.”


Her mouth dropped open. “You were riding your motorcycle in this weather? Why?”


He looked directly at her. “Because I don’t have a car.”


What? Didn’t everyone have a car?


“The bike quit about a mile from here and I pushed it to your barn because I remembered seeing cans of gas.”


“Wait. You pushed your motorcycle a mile, in the dark, in subzero temperatures?”


“Yeah. While I filled the tank outside the barn, exhaustion set in and I sort of…”


“Passed out?”


“Phased out,” he corrected. “I don’t know how long.” Boone squinted at the clock. “It’s seven-thirty? I left Sundance at four.”


Sierra got right in his face. “You are lucky you aren’t dead, Boone West.”


“Probably. I was confused when I woke up but I remembered I had to tell you I’d borrowed some fuel. Didn’t want anyone to think I stole it.” He smiled and lightly bumped his forehead to hers. “I wouldn’t want to add to the bad blood between the Wests and McKays.”


“Thoughtful. Except can you imagine how much worse it’d be if you’d been found dead on McKay land?”


“I thought your name was Daniels,” he teased.


She whapped him on the shoulder. “Smartass.”


“Could I hang my coveralls over the chair so they dry out before I head home?”


Of course tough guy Boone would ride his motorcycle home after a close call with hypothermia. But she wouldn’t have his stubbornness on her conscience. “Sure. But before you leave here, promise me you’ll call your dad or your uncles or someone, and tell them exactly which way you’re going, so if your bike breaks down again, they’ll know where to look for you.”


“Or we could skip all that shit and you could just give me a ride.”


“I promised my dad I wouldn’t go out of the house under any circumstances except for fire.” God. Boone probably thought she was such a baby.