Wounded

Chapter One

Late April 2012, Iron Horse Peak, Colorado, continued from Somebody’s Angel

The nearly naked man pressed against her bare skin convulsed in another fit of shivers that rattled her jaw. After lying against Luke Denton for the past four hours with only their underwear as a thin barrier, she wondered if her body had any warmth left to give. His body felt warmer, though. Why was he still shivering? Perhaps she should go to the kitchen and warm up a hot-water bottle to aid in raising his core temperature.

Luke had crashed into her safe, quiet life with a vengeance last night when the snow shelf gave way and nearly killed him. What on earth made him think she needed some white knight to follow her home? She had spent the afternoon hanging out with her dearest friend Kitty at the bar in Aspen Corners, and the next thing she knew, Kitty was calling to ask if she had seen Luke Denton.

Cassie had managed to find her way home alone for years without needing a man. Besides, she had only imbibed a near-virgin margarita. She had learned her lesson the hard way about drinking too much in bars.

Clearly, she was not the one in need of rescuing. This fool had nearly been killed when the avalanche knocked his truck off the road to her cabin. Regardless of why he was here—whether a stalker or a rescuer—she needed to keep him alive. Dragging the half-conscious man into her cabin had been the easy part. Waking him every couple of hours to make sure he was not suffering a concussion had not been much of a challenge. But pressing her body against his like this frazzled her nerves.

She was an artist, not a nurse. However, with the blizzard raging outside, no medical assistance would be arriving anytime soon. No sense calling Kitty or Marc D’Alessio again. During Marc’s last call asking for an update on Luke’s condition, he had conveyed what the next steps would be. Clearly, her body no longer provided him with much warmth. She crawled out from under the pile of woolen blankets and wrapped her robe around herself before running into the kitchen to boil a kettle of water.

After warming the water a couple of minutes, she removed it from the burner and filled the rubber bottle. Carrying it by the neck, she grabbed a dishtowel and went back to the bedroom. The room was at least twenty degrees warmer than she normally kept it. Still, her gaze rested on the covers quivering as the man’s body suffered through another bout of shivers.

Marc said to warm his trunk, neck, and—groin. She would place the bottle close to that area and then focus her efforts on his chest and neck. Cassie wrapped the towel around the bottle and slipped it under the pile of blankets, laying it low on his belly and being careful not to touch him. She hoped the bottle wasn’t too hot, but it would help circulate his blood and warm his extremities.

Get well, Luke Denton—and go back to where you belong.

This cabin had been her escape from the world for the past several years—more specifically from the males of the human species. No more.

She stared down at Luke a moment before fisting her hands and preparing herself to join him in the bed again.

Relax, or he will sense your fear.

With even more reluctance than earlier, she shucked her robe and climbed onto the twin mattress, pressing her full length against him.

Friction might help. She rubbed her legs against his and her hands on his chest and neck, creating more heat under the woolen blankets. Not used to so much warmth in her bed, she began to sweat. When his shivering stopped, Cassie sighed. At least she had done the right thing. Despite her discomfort, she had rescued him and was trying to nurse him back to health.

Thank you, Goddess.

The sooner Luke recovered—and they cleared the road to the highway—the sooner he could leave her mountain. Only then would she be able to breathe freely in her sanctuary once more. While she did not own this place, her landlady, a patron of the arts and fellow Columbia graduate, had made a very attractive, affordable offer for a new artist starting out. The elderly benefactress practically let her live here rent-free, primarily wanting someone to live in the isolated cabin and studio she and her late husband had inhabited.

Without warning, Luke grunted in pain and rolled on top of her. Bile burned the back of her throat, threatening to choke her as she flashed back to the horrific scene in the cantina five years ago.

Sweat. Bodies. Three drunk, aggressive men. She pummeled the man on top of her, but could not shove him off.

Cassie clawed her mind back to the present and shoved the delirious man off her chest. Despite his weakened state, Luke wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her with him. Even though she was on top now, she could not shake the feeling of being smothered.

“Easy, girl.” She pulled away and looked down at his face. He appeared to be sleeping, but was he? “…not gonna hurt ya.” She cowered from his touch, preparing to run, but his eyes remained closed. He reached up to stroke the side of her head. “That’s my girl.”

Was he dreaming about his dead wife? When the puma had injured Kitty’s husband Adam, Luke’s dead wife had used Cassie as a channel. While friends and family gathered in the waiting room, Cassie had sketched an image of his wife and their unborn baby as if they were in heaven, letting him know they were okay.

Sympathy for him weakened the urge to swat his hand away. His gentle touch did not appear to be a threat or hurtful in any way, unlike… She shuddered. Do not go there. Gentle or not, the last thing Cassie wanted was to be touched by this man, by any man. So why did she stay here in this bed with him?

His hand made her feel something different from what the other men had. Not frightened. Just strange. Something she could not identify. Safe, maybe?

Do not fool yourself, Cassie.

She would never feel safe in the presence of a man again. Up here on this mountain, she surrounded herself with her artwork. More recently, her precious alpacas had brought her pleasure—and peace. After years of trying to reconnect with the Universe—even beginning to see some success this past year—now her sense of security had been ripped away. Perhaps unintentionally, but that tenuous connection had been shattered just the same. She wanted to meditate, but could not leave him to spend time at her altar in her studio.

Luke grew restless again, thrashing on the bed until his arm wrapped around her back, trapping her once more. Cassie’s body shook, but not from the cold.

Deep breaths.

No! I am suffocating!

Cassie jerked his heavy arm off her and let it drop onto the mattress as she scooted out of the bed again. She needed to put space between herself and this man. With him no longer shivering, she could leave him with the hot-water bottle while she started a pot of soup as well as a broth for his first attempts at eating again. When he came to, the soups would help warm and nourish his body. She stocked lots of staples in her pantry, but it would take a while to turn them into a meal.

Thank you, Goddess. This would give her time to collect herself.

Grabbing her robe, she ran from the room to escape the monsters lurking in the shadows that waited for any sign of weakness before they pounced.

* * *

Luke pulled his hand back, giving O’Keeffe the space she needed as he took a few steps away from her in the round pen. The mare was more skittish tonight than she’d been since the rescued mustang had come to his ranch months ago. What had spooked her? He’d been working with the battered horse daily and had expected her to trust him more than this by now.

But he’d learned with the others that sometimes you took two steps forward only to take three more back.

What the hell had those bastards done to try and break her spirit? How could anyone treat an animal like that? O’Keeffe retreated across the pen, and her image faded away as if he’d only been dreaming…

Exhausted, Luke tried to lift his arm to stroke the horse. Dead weight. Would he ever be able to break through to this one?

Suddenly, Maggie lay next to him. Confused at the change from being with O’Keeffe what seemed only a moment ago, Luke rolled onto his stomach, groaning when his muscles protested. His wife’s body had been warm beside his a moment ago, but without warning, she also disappeared. Something didn’t feel right, but he couldn’t analyze it now.

I need to find her.

But he was so damned weak…

A wave of shivers convulsed him. The wall of ice and debris roared down the mountainside. His wife’s crumpled body lying half the length of a football field down the mountainside tore at his gut. “Don’t move, Maggie! I’ll be back as fast as I can.”

Wait. Hadn’t Maggie been lying next to him a moment ago? Was he dreaming now? But what if he wasn’t and this was real—again?

Maggie needs me!

Luke ran as if her life depended on him, because it did. Helpless. Lately, she’d become more independent, and he’d begun to wonder if she’d ever need him again. She’d grown so strong and confident since that first time he’d met her when she was just beginning to free herself from her overbearing family. While he’d encouraged her every way he could to gain her autonomy, he had to admit he sometimes missed having her depend on him emotionally the way she once had.

One thing was certain—at this moment, he had to find help. The temperatures tonight would drop like a rock. He still had a good six hours of daylight to bring the emergency crews back to her, but it had taken the two of them hours, albeit at a slower pace, to hike up here from the parking lot.

Run, damn it. Just run!

“God, please stay with her.” He whispered his prayer as he ran. “Hang on, darlin’.”

“I am not your darling.”

Maggie? No, his wife didn’t have a Hispanic accent. Besides, she loved when he called her darlin’.

Then whose warm body was pressed against his? Reality slammed into him. Of course it couldn’t be his wife. She had died in the avalanche almost eight years ago.

Didn’t she? He couldn’t have made that up—not in a million years—unless he’d just awoken from the worst damned nightmare imaginable. He thought he’d come to terms with Maggie’s death during the past year, so why the nightmares now?

He flashed to the crushing sound of a wall of snow and debris slamming against his truck. What the hell? He and Maggie didn’t own a truck. Besides, the Land Rover her parents had given her when she went off to college had been parked miles away when the avalanche killed Maggie and the rescue worker—Angel Giardano’s father—at the bottom of that scree slope.

So why did the crush of the snow pack feel so real to him now?

The body pressed against his moved, bringing him back to the present. He was in a warm bed. Next to a soft, warm body. Luke opened one eye. Dark, straight hair. Definitely not Maggie’s red curls.

She was built smaller than his wife, too. Who the—?

“You are awake?”

This time, the accent clued him in. Cassie López, not Maggie. His head still fuzzy, he glanced around the darkened room, but couldn’t make out many details. One thing was certain. He lay cozied up with the girl in a cramped twin bed. Must be dreaming still.

Nice imagination, Denton.

If this was a fantasy, why was he dreaming about her in a bed this size? Then again, being cuddled up with her in the small bed’s tight confines sure worked for him.

She moved against him. Soft skin warm against his body. Sure seemed real. Not a dream.

Whoa! How on earth could he have wound up in bed with Cassie? Confusion returned, compounded by the throbbing in his head. He recalled setting out from daVinci’s bar to follow her home after some of them had met for pizza and drinks, including Adam and Karla, Marc and Angel. There had been some kind of threat that made him worry about her ability to get home safely. But if he’d put the moves on her, he’d remember—wouldn’t he? He hadn’t had that much to drink.

Had she invited him into her bed? No. Any woman who slept in a twin bed didn’t invite men to join her. Hell, this skittish filly would have kicked him in the nuts before she’d allow him into her cabin, much less her bedroom. She didn’t like him much—well, any man from what he’d observed the few times he’d been around her. Adam practically set her jaws on edge, too, and that man wouldn’t hurt her for anything, either.

When he moved to face her, a splitting pain seared between his temples, worse than any hangover he remembered. He closed his eyes and waited for the pain and nausea to pass. How much did he drink at daVinci’s?

Keeping his voice to a whisper, he asked, “What the hell happened?”

“You do not remember?”

He started shaking his head, but the motion made matters worse. “Not a thing.”

“Not even the avalanche?”

So there had been another avalanche. He hadn’t imagined or dreamed it.

“You probably totaled your truck.” She glared at him. “You could have been killed. What were you doing up here?” Now she sounded pissed—and more like the Cassie he remembered.

He grinned. “I wanted to see you make it home safely.”

Her body grew even more rigid. “Obviously, I can take care of myself. You, I am not so sure about.”

The girl had a point. But he’d had the best of intentions. “Living up here all alone, well, it’s good to make sure someone checks in on you regularly.”

“I have lived here since soon after graduating from university four years ago. I do not need anyone checking up on me.”

Her breathing became shallow, agitated. Better drop the subject. “How long have I slept?”

“Since the night before last.”

“What time is it now?”

“Early evening. It has been almost forty-eight hours since the avalanche, although you have had a few moments when you spoke lucidly.”

What the hell had he said? He had no memory of any conversations—hell, no memory of anything but some wild dreams about horses, avalanches, and Maggie.

Ironic that an avalanche had taken Maggie away and another had brought him into Cassie’s arms. Okay, enough trying to make sense out of this screwed-up mess. He wouldn’t be in this girl’s arms for long. She didn’t trust him. Detested him, most likely.

So damned tired. Too exhausted to do anything about the exotic, contrary beauty in bed beside him, for sure, Luke’s eyelids drooped.

“Good. Sleep now. You need to regain your strength.” Her words filtered through his fuzzy brain briefly before they faded away, but he heard her stress the word need as if there was an unspoken soon.

The next time he opened his eyes, the room was still dark. He lay pressed against a soft body again, nice and warm. Maggie. His cock stirred. His favorite times were waking up slowly together on their rare lazy days.

He was naked except for his boxers. She wore a bra and panties.

“I see you are awake again.”

Cassie? Slowly, Luke remembered where he was and what had happened. Avalanche. Cassie’s cabin. Hell, Cassie’s bed! Having her close like this—the closest he’d ever managed to come to the girl—made him grin. “How’d a little thing like you drag me in here?”

“You regained consciousness long enough for me to help you out of the truck, and I had you inside before the chills hit and you lost consciousness again.”

“Oh, so that’s why you undressed me.”

Her body grew stiff. “You had hypothermia. There would be no other reason for me to do so.”

Shit. No wonder he’d been out for so long and was so confused now. He wondered if he didn’t have a concussion, too. Luke suffered enough of those during his football days in college to remember the confusion they brought. He might even be dealing with some altitude sickness. Her place was barely three thousand feet above his, but the effects could be exponential.

“Luke, are you still cold?”

“Not much anymore.” Being too cold definitely wasn’t his problem now. His cock grew stiffer with her breasts pressed against his side. Cassie was going to be embarrassed as hell whenever they decided to move out of this bed.

Not that he planned on moving anywhere at the moment.

“Good.” She yanked the top blanket off him and held it up to her chest. “Because I need to check on my soup. Now, turn your head away.”

Why’d Momma raise me to be such a gentleman?

Luke sighed and slowly turned away to avoid any sudden movement that might set off the jackhammer in his head again. She hurried to cover herself and get out of bed. He regretted the loss of her body heat the moment she left his side.

“I will be right back with a bowl of soup. It will help warm you even more. Would you like some coffee, too?”

“Both sound good. Black would be great.”

As her footsteps retreated and the door opened and closed, he rolled onto his back again with a groan, laying his forearm over his eyes. Damn, he hadn’t felt this weak since O’Keeffe kicked him in the thigh.

Aw, hell. If his body hurt this bad, what did his new truck look like? Cassie said it was probably totaled. He’d only had the damned thing about five months. Bought it for hauling the—

Shit! Luke tossed the remaining blankets off and struggled to sit up. The room swayed, his head pounded, and his vision blurred at the sudden change in position. He held on to the bedpost until he could see straight again. He needed to find his phone and send someone out to his ranch to check on his horses.

Luke stood and scanned the room, but it was too dark to see if his pants or coat were here. Where had he left his cell phone? He stumbled toward the living room and scanned the room from the bedroom doorway. No phone in sight. Most people didn’t bother with landlines these days, but alone up here on the mountain, Cassie should have a backup.

“Lucas Denton! I want you back in bed!” She stood in a doorway across the room, a steaming mug of what he assumed was coffee in her hand. At some point since she’d left the bedroom, she’d donned a poncho to cover herself.

Cassie wanted him in bed? He grinned. “How’d you know my given name was Lucas?”

“Just a guess.”

No doubt she used his formal name hoping to place more distance between them. Still, he didn’t mind hearing her call him that. Not as long as she let him call her whatever he wanted to.

Cassie came through the doorway from what must be the kitchen. The smell of strong coffee reached him. Damn, he needed that—but not yet.

“I need to use your phone.” He reached for the doorjamb with both hands when his legs began to wobble.

“You need to be in bed before you pass out.” She walked toward him and placed the mug on the coffee table. “Who do you want to call?”

Cassie glanced down at his boxers, and he realized that’s all he wore. She’d probably taken his pants to dry them out. As if realizing where her gaze was focused, she averted her eyes quickly. Knowing she stripped him out of his clothes, well, most of them, told him the woman didn’t mess around when dealing with hypothermia, despite clearly being uncomfortable in the presence of a nearly naked man.

The chill in the room made him cold again, his abs aching from many prior bouts of shivers that must have assaulted his muscles. This whole cabin was awfully damned cold. No wonder she had to wear a woolen poncho in here. He glanced over to find a fire burning in the fireplace insert, but heard no motor running the fan to put out heat. How did she survive the winter up here? Either the fire wasn’t burning hot enough or the blower was broken. He’d have to check on it. Later.

His focus returned to Cassie. “Listen, I need to check on my horses and find someone to go to my ranch to take care of them.”

“They are fine. Adam and Kitty spent the night there after the aval—”

“Kitty?”

“Sorry, Karla. I knew her as Kitty in college and the name stuck, although she did not let anyone call her that but me. Anyway, I called her a little while ago to let her know you were conscious and doing better. She said one of Angelina’s brothers—I forget which one, Matteo maybe—moved in at the ranch until you can return home.”

Luke hadn’t relied on anyone to take care of his commitments since the day he’d lost Maggie. Those horses were his responsibility. Sure, Angel’s brothers, Matt and Rafe, knew a lot about horses, but his animals had special needs.

“They won’t take too kindly to strangers. I still need to check in on them.” He realized it sounded like he planned to put a call through to the horses. He leaned his shoulder against the doorway and ran his hand through his hair, hating the feelings of helplessness overtaking him again. “Look, I need to talk with someone down there.” His raspy voice sounded barely above a whisper to his ears. He’d never felt so weak.

Trying to take command of the situation while fighting to remain upright, he held out his free hand palm upward. “I need to use your phone.” She stared him down, silent and unrelenting. “Please. What would you do if it was your alpacas in the hands of a stranger?”

Her features softened. She sighed and pulled a cell from the pouch in the front of her poncho. “But I insist that you sit down before you fall over.”

He walked up to the fireplace instead. Maybe being closer to the flames would stop his body’s incessant shaking. As he leaned his shoulder against the mantel, he accepted her phone and then stared blankly at the buttons. He had no clue how to reach any of the Giardano brothers. Glancing back at Cassie, who stood with her arms folded over her chest, he asked, “Do you think Adam’s still at my place?”

“No. Adam took Kitty home yesterday. She’s been having some back pain, and he wanted her in their own bed last night.”

Not that he could remember Adam’s number, either, but his or Karla’s contact info would be on Cassie’s speed dial. Dammit. Luke couldn’t think straight. He took a few steps toward the coffee table and reached down to pick up the steaming mug, but must have tripped over something and lost his balance. He pictured himself about to be sprawled out on top of the table.

“Luke!” Before he landed, Cassie ran around the table and grabbed him around the chest, surprisingly quick and strong for such a little thing. She helped set him upright again.

The room continued to spin. “Sorry, darlin’. Got a little dizzy.” When he patted her shoulder to convey that he was okay, she stepped away from him abruptly, forcing him to steady himself on the arm of the couch. He drew in a deep breath.

Fear. He saw genuine fear in her eyes, much like he saw in his horses. Why would she fear him?

“You should be in bed. Please, Lucas, cooperate with me. Make the call from there.” The plea in her voice caught him by surprise, too. Almost sounded like she cared. Well, if she didn’t, she’d have left his ass to freeze out in that newly formed snow mound. The woman was a mass of contradictions.

“Let me just call Angel before going back to bed. She’ll know how to reach her brother.” He heard her sigh as he stared at the phone a minute longer. Hell, he didn’t have a clue what Angel’s or Marc’s numbers were either. He always used the programmed contacts. Even if he did recall, the blow to his head had probably scrambled his memory.

Cassie came to his rescue, taking the cell from him. “I do not wish to bother Kitty, but Marc’s number is in the recent calls. He was with Angel the night of the avalanche and called to check on you. Maybe they are still together. If not, I am sure he will know how to contact her.”

“Good thinking.” Luke sat down hard on the small sofa, too late realizing the jarring movement would set off more jackhammers between his temples. He held his head in his hands, hoping the throbbing would go away before he had to speak to anyone.

Cassie hit the callback button and handed it to him again. When it went to voicemail, he left a brief message.

Let go. There’s nothing you can do now.

No doubt Marc had taken care of everything after hearing about the accident. The man was good at taking care of everyone’s needs but his own.

He ended the call and handed the phone back to Cassie. “Thanks. Guess I’m going to have to trust that they have things under control down there. How long do you think it’ll be before I can head home?”

Cassie shrugged and pocketed the cell again. “The road is covered with twenty feet of snow, ice, and debris from fallen trees and rocks. I would guess a couple of weeks. At least this is late April, and some snow will melt in the days to come.”

“Damn. That’s a long time.”

“Look, I did not ask for this, either.”

He shouldn’t be so ungrateful for putting her out like this. “I’m sorry. It’s just that I’m not used to lying around doing nothing.”

“But that is just what you are going to do for the next few days at least. Now, back to bed.”

He stood and swayed on his feet. Cassie placed an arm around his waist and led him back to the bedroom, piling up pillows and blankets so he was sitting up. “I will return in a few minutes with your lunch.”

With it being so dark in here, he would have expected it to be time for breakfast or supper. Much as he hated to admit it, being back in bed was just what he needed. The shaking had finally stopped, and he leaned into the pillow. He needed to regain his strength.

Cassie returned a minute later and handed him the mug of coffee. “Drink this while I prepare a bowl of soup for you.”

“Why don’t you join me?”

“It will be easier for me to eat in the kitchen.”

She probably preferred to keep her distance from him. He took a sip of the black brew. It was stronger than he made it at home, but damned good. Maybe it would clear some of the cobwebs from his brain and give him a boost of energy. Not that there was anything he needed to be doing or that she would allow him to do for a while.

Except maybe checking the blower on her fireplace insert. He made a lousy patient, but thankfully, stayed pretty healthy most of the time. Too bad Cassie would be subjected to his frustration until he was well enough to go home.

When she returned, he didn’t waste any time trying to set a different tone. “Cassie, darlin’, I’m not blaming you for my being stuck up here. It’s my own fault, but I have a lot of obligations right now. I can’t be away from my horses too long. It’s a crucial time in their recovery and training. I don’t even know what the weather’s like down in the valley. O’Keeffe doesn’t like being shut up in the barn, but I can’t leave her out in a blizzard, either.”

She sat down on the bed as far away from him as practical and traded him his mug for another filled with soup. “The storm was mostly up here in the mountains. Kitty said they only had a few inches at your place that first night.” She cocked her head. “How many horses do you have?”

He grinned. “Four at the moment. All rescued mustangs that had been abused or neglected. I’m training them for SAR work.” He didn’t want to think about the day coming when he had to turn them over to someone else, for the same reason foster parents found it hard to let the kids they cared for go.

“SAR?”

“Search and Rescue. I just transferred to the squad out of Fairchance. When these horses go to new owners, I’ll take on three more. My mustang sanctuary is small potatoes compared to some, but I can’t afford to hire a lot of hands to help right now, so three’s my limit.”

“But you said you have four.”

Luke smiled. “The fourth is Picasso, a gelding I plan on keeping. He was my first one and a damned good SAR-trained horse already. When Pic’s ready, he’ll be valuable in mountain rescues, but we’ll remain a team.”

Thinking about how he’d recently been rescued himself, Luke shivered and took a sip from the mug of soup—well, more like broth. Still, it tasted better than what he would have served himself from a can. The heat from the liquid warmed his insides, and he finished it off, handing her the mug when he didn’t see a nightstand nearby.

“Thanks. That hit the spot.”

She held out her empty hand, and their fingers brushed. Luke had a feeling that’s what caused her to pull away so quickly. Why so spooked? Didn’t she know he’d never hurt a flea? Even if he were so inclined, he most definitely wasn’t going to hurt anyone in his current condition.

His eyelids grew heavy.

She set both mugs on the floor. “Lean forward.” Pulling the blankets out from behind his back, she left only the pillows. “Lie down. Sleep.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

All fight gone, he let sleep claim him.

* * *

Cassie watched his eyelids droop as his body relaxed into the mattress and pillows. He looked like a little boy, but that vulnerability was only temporary because of his weakened state. When he recovered, she would need to be on her guard every moment until she could send him home.

How long would that be?

As she spread the blankets over him, her smartphone buzzed. She returned to the living room before answering quietly.

“Hi, Cassie.” Angelina’s voice conveyed worry, but not as much as she had heard the first night. “How’s he doing?”

“He is sleeping again, but he did manage to drink some coffee and a weak soup.”

He no longer needs my body heat. Thank you, Goddess.

Angelina sighed. “That sounds great.”

Cassie filled her in on Lucas’s physical condition as best she could.

“Sounds like you’re taking good care of him. I hope he’s not giving you any…problems.”

Her hesitation reminded her that Angelina had been part of the cleansing ceremony around Adam’s hot tub that night. She understood why this situation was so difficult for Cassie.

“For the most part. It seems that I am the problem more than he is. When do you think Marc and the others can start digging out from the other side?”

The pause set her on alert. “I can’t speak for Marc…. He’s…not…” Angelina’s sniffle made Cassie wonder what had happened.

“Is everything okay?”

A longer pause punctuated with more sniffles followed. “I don’t know. He’s…” Angelina’s breathing sounded shaky. “We just haven’t been able to work things out. I don’t know if we ever will, but I’m sure my brothers and their rescue squad teams will help as soon as the blizzard is over up there.”

“Angelina, what happened? You two seemed to have a lot to talk about at daVinci’s the other night.”

“I can’t talk about it right now.”

“Okay. I understand.” Cassie would never pry. There had been many times she did not wish to share her feelings, too. “Thank your brothers for me.” Normally, being snowbound made her feel safer, but with Lucas in her bed, she no longer enjoyed that sense of security.

“Listen, Cassie, tell Luke not to worry about his horses. Matt’s loving every minute of this. He’d love to have a place like Luke’s. He’ll stay at the ranch until Luke returns home and is back on his feet. Beats his tiny apartment in Leadville.”

“How can Lucas contact him to check on the horses? I know he is going to worry no matter how much we try to reassure him.” Like Lucas, she would have worried if she had been on the other side of the avalanche and cut off from her alpacas, especially with Graciela in her condition. She walked over to her desk and jotted down the number on a slip of paper.

Angelina’s voice came through the phone, stronger now. “Lucas? Surely he hasn’t forgotten his name!”

“No! It is just that…Luke seemed so…familiar. I was not comfortable calling him that.”

“How are you doing, Cassie?”

I am trying to keep myself emotionally distant despite our being thrown together like this.

Cassie cleared her throat. “I am fine, thank you. Just tired.” She had not slept much while in bed with Lucas the past two nights. Blankets and the space heater were enough to keep him warm now. She could sleep on the floor by the fire or on the nearby loveseat, which was plenty long enough for her. While the cot in her studio was much more comfortable, she should remain closer to Lucas in case he had a relapse or needed something.

“We love you for taking care of our friend. I know this isn’t easy for you.”

“I am only doing what anyone would do.”

Even if it kills me.

Something told her she would never be the same.

After saying goodbye and disconnecting the call, she stared at the open bedroom door a moment before pivoting around and heading to the kitchen. Certain he would sleep for a while, she decided to prepare a heartier soup to nourish his body—and speed up his healing.

The tactile memory of her body pressed against his sent an uncharacteristic wave of heat into her face before her stomach churned. She thought she might be sick. Even in his weakened state, the muscles under his skin spoke of strength she would be hard-pressed to overcome if she had to fight him off.

Being alone in this isolated cabin with any man other than her brother scared her beyond reason, but Lucas Denton had a charm about him that most likely weakened the resolve of many women.

Not Cassie. No man could charm her. Never again.

Lucas. Somehow calling him by his formal name made her feel less intimate with him, despite the fact they had spent two nights together in her small bed. She threw a handful of amaranth into the pot and stirred absently as she tried to shake off the memory of his body on top of hers. The smothered sensation dragged her back to the pool room at the Lima cantina. Feelings she thought she had long ago buried erupted to the surface. Raw. Exposed. Thankfully, Lucas had not taken advantage of the situation.

Drawing a ragged breath, she pulled back the curtain in the pantry and searched for the quinoa. Perhaps she would make a healthy salad for herself so Lucas could have more of the hot food. She doubted his taste went to the South American grains and delicacies in her pantry. No matter what, she needed to keep him from becoming feverish or chilled again, which would result in her returning to the bed with him.

“Maggie, no!”

The anguish in Lucas’s voice brought her hand to a standstill. She set the canister down and ran into the bedroom. Lucas thrashed on the mattress, sweat dotting his forehead as his powerful hands clenched the sheet.

“God, no! Can’t reach you!”

For a few seconds, Cassie weighed whether she should try to wake him or let him fight whatever monsters invaded his sleep until they passed. The suffering on his face made her cross the room and touch his shoulder, hoping to pull him back to the conscious world.

He grabbed onto her arm. “I have you! Don’t let go!” He yanked her arm, and she lost her balance, tumbling into the bed on top of him.

A scream reverberated in her mind. Lucas opened his eyes, and she realized the scream had not been a silent one. Breathing hard, she pushed off him, but he stared at her with unseeing eyes and placed his hands on either side of her head, pulling her toward his face as if he intended to kiss her.

She fought to escape him. “Let me go! I am not your Maggie. I am Cassie.” She pried at his hand, attempting to loosen his grip as bile rose in her throat. Her mind flashed back. The way they sneered their words in her native language and the sounds of their voices made her lose the love that she had for Spanish.

Cassie beat against Diego’s chest. She refused to open her eyes to see the look of triumph on his face. “Get off me, you pig.”

“She wants to fight. Que bueno. I like a chica with some fight in her.”

Her fear mounted as he undid his belt, and she pounded her fists against him again and again until her wrists ached and her hands grew numb.

“Whoa, darlin’. Wake up. You’re dreaming. Not sure what all you said, but you were screaming in Spanish.”

Her hands stilled. Even without opening her eyes, she knew that Texas drawl did not come from Pedro or his friends. She blinked several times and stared into Lucas Denton’s eyes, a mix of blue and green that looked like gray to her. What was he doing on top of her—again? Cassie shoved him away, a feat made easier when he simply rolled off her.

“Sorry if I scared you, Lucas. I am fine now.” How long had she become lost in the flashback? The two of them were a mess. She had probably bruised his chest if the throbbing in her hands was any indication of the impact of the blows delivered. She pushed herself upright and darted to the foot of the bed, gasping as she attempted to draw a deep breath. Her upper arm ached from some unknown reason.

Still not certain how she had gone from trying to ease Lucas awake from his nightmare to being submerged in her own, she contemplated how to explain her reaction to him without revealing more than he needed to know.

“You were dreaming about Maggie.” She gasped for a full breath, not realizing she had been breathing so shallowly until she tried to get a sentence out. “I heard you scream for her. I came in to check on you.” Breathe, Cassie. “When I tried to wake you, you grabbed my arm.” She rubbed the skin on her arm where it had grown tender from his grip, but more disturbing was the lingering tingle she felt from his touch.

No, not tingle. Memories of the touch of those other men so long ago made her stomach churn.

“I don’t remember anything, darlin’, until you called me a pig and screamed at me to get off you. I’m real sorry. I was asleep. I wouldn’t hurt you for anything. You sure you’re okay?”

She nodded her head. In reality, she had to admit his touch was nothing compared to… She swallowed the bile before it erupted. “I am fine.”

And I will be much better when you are off my mountain.

* * *

Luke fought the urge to pound his fist into the wall, but any kind of violence would only add to the fear he’d put in Cassie’s eyes. Sure, he’d been beyond sound asleep at the time, but he was solely to blame for scaring her, even if he had no memory of what he’d done. She continued to rub her arm where he’d hurt her. The thought of causing her physical pain burned his gut as well.

But the momentary terror he’d seen in her eyes shook him to the core. He would never hurt her—or hell, any living thing—not intentionally, anyway. Clearly, he couldn’t be trusted around her if he could lose control of himself like that. What if he hurt her again? Judging from her responses, someone had already wounded or abused her before.

Luke sat up and leaned toward her. “Let me see that arm.”

She shook her head fiercely and leaned away from him. Hell, he couldn’t blame her. Luke ran his hand through his sweat-matted hair.

“I just want to be sure I didn’t injure you.”

Cassie crawled off the bed and made a beeline for the door. “It is nothing to worry about. I am going to finish preparing dinner.”

Luke knew sleep would be elusive and didn’t want her to avoid him, even if she had a reason to run. Perhaps he could prove to her he was safe to be around by just, well, being around her. Time and proximity had a way of breaking down barriers. Sure had been working with O’Keeffe.

“Let me help.”

She pivoted sharply. “No!”

Fear again. No, still. She’d been showing signs of fear since he’d met her. Knowing someone had hurt her so badly burned his gut.

The girl had intrigued him from the moment he first met her. Seeing her nurturing side when Karla was beside herself after Adam’s cougar attack. Attending her art gallery showing last winter and seeing her amazing talent. Heck, even thinking at one point Cassie was the angel Maggie said she was sending him. He’d wanted to get to know her better for a while, but not like this. Still, they were stuck together, so he might as well make the most of the opportunity—if only he could get her to stop constantly shoving him away.

“I told you to stay in bed. You…” Her gaze darted sideways. “You need your rest.” Not waiting for a response, she turned and bolted from the room.

Luke pressed his back against the wall that ran the length of the bed. Damn it all, how was he going to fix this?

Remnants of the nightmare that had led to this mess played at the edges of his mind, but he didn’t want to think about Maggie right now. She was gone. Clearly, his own brush with an avalanche was stirring up memories he’d buried long ago. He couldn’t help Maggie then, and he sure as hell couldn’t do anything for her now.

He needed to do something to fix this situation with Cassie. He scooted off the bed and stood, but the room lurched so badly, he plopped back onto the mattress, leaned forward, and held his head in his hands until he could see straight again.

He sure as hell wasn’t going anywhere for a while. He had no experience with being incapacitated. Maybe having something more substantial to eat would rebuild his strength. With Cassie, timing would be everything, and his instincts told him she needed time and space to reach a place where she would trust him. He didn’t know if they’d be together long enough for that to happen, but in the meantime, he’d try to keep from hurting her again.

That meant he needed to find another place to sleep.

When he thought he would be able to stand upright, he rose again more deliberately and grabbed the bedpost until the room stopped spinning. His stomach churned, but he took a deep breath and put one foot in front of the other until he reached the doorjamb. Holding on, he steadied himself and waited for the room to stop swimming before his eyes.

It didn’t. Aw, hell. Who was he kidding? He gave up and went back to bed. Clearly, this ordeal had taken more out of him than he realized. Right now, the best thing he could do was rest. He’d have time to fix things later.

The next time he awakened, the room was still dark. Had he slept through another day? Glancing around, he realized the room had no window. It felt like a cave in here. Swinging his legs over the edge of the mattress, he sat up, happy the walls didn’t rush him this time.

Progress.

He stood and made his way slowly to the doorway. A fire roared in the fireplace, but after correctly guessing which door led to the john, he propelled himself into the living room. Outside the bedroom, the temperature dropped at least ten degrees. The space heater made a huge difference in that small, confined space, but wouldn’t do squat in a room this large. His gaze zeroed in on the fireplace, and he staggered somewhat as he made his way across the room. He searched for and found the blower switch and clicked it into the “on” position. Nothing. He checked the cord. Plugged in. No sign of fraying.

“The blower broke a month ago, but the flames still put out more than enough heat.” He turned to find Cassie setting two mugs on the coffee table.

“Not if you’re more than a foot away. Do you have any auxiliary heat source?”

“Of course. I would be foolish to rely on only one up here.”

Okay, he’d pissed her off—again. Touchy woman, but he’d cut her some slack after what he’d done to her in the bedroom earlier.

“I have two back-up sources—propane and the fireplace in the main house and a wood/coal-burning stove in my studio.”

“Why don’t we turn on the propane to take the chill off?”

She cast her gaze to the floor. “I only have enough left this season for cooking.”

If that was one of her backup fuels, how could she let it nearly run out?

As if she heard the accusation in his thoughts, she put her hands on her hips and glared at him. “I like it cold. This is my house, and I was not expecting to have company. You are the one complaining about the lack of heat, not me.”

True enough. He ran his hand through his hair. “Listen, I’d like to see if I can fix this blower. I’ll probably need to pull the insert out. Can’t do that until the fire dies down. Mind if we just bank it tonight and clear out the hot coals in the morning so I can have a look?”

She stared at the hearth and then back at him. It wasn’t like he’d just asked if she wanted to go back to bed to have some rough, raw sex. He was talking survival here. His, anyway.

“You are not here to repair things. You need to stay in bed where you belong.”

“Darlin’, I grew up in West Texas. One, real men earn their keep. Two, I don’t intend to freeze my ass off if I don’t have to.”

She raised her chin and looked cute as hell when she was all riled up. “As long as you are my guest, you will not be working.”

Luke sighed. He’d never spoken to a woman like that. “Sorry. Listen, my head’s splitting, and I’m cold.”

“Then why not put some clothes on?” She glanced at his crotch, and he could have sworn she blushed before averting her gaze with haste. “I washed and dried your jeans and shirt. They are folded on the chair next to the bed.” She bit the inside of her lower lip, and his cock jolted to life. He’d better move before he embarrassed himself—or her. “While you dress, I will find you something for that headache.” She walked toward the bathroom.

After dressing in the bedroom, he returned to the living room to find her staring into the flames.

She turned toward him. “Lucas, if you want to repair the blower fan in a few days, fine, but until then all you are going to do is rest and eat. Nothing more. Do you understand?”

Maybe she wouldn’t be sharing her warmth with him in the bed any longer, but damned if he would keep her out of her own bed. “I’m not taking your bed and blankets away anymore.”

“I am fine sleeping in here. When you are feeling better and I do not need to be as close, I can sleep in my studio. If you stay in the bedroom, you should stay plenty warm. I have turned on the space heater again.”

He’d prefer to curl up with Cassie again, despite her mood at the moment, but knew that wouldn’t be happening anytime soon.

“Fine.” For the time being. He walked over to the coffee table and picked up one of the mugs she’d set down. Coffee smelled as strong as before. He took a sip and thought he’d died and gone to heaven. “You make damned good coffee. And something smells awfully good in the kitchen.”

“Black bean soup. Sit down.” She pointed to a glass of water on the table and two white capsules beside it “Take those Tylenol for your headache. Excuse me while I prepare you a bowl of soup.”

“Grab yourself one, too. We can eat together.”

She turned away and started for the kitchen. “No, thank you. I am not hungry.”

Like hell. Luke followed her into the kitchen. No way was she going to skip dinner on his watch. She barely weighed anything as far as he could tell under that baggy poncho she wore constantly. A strong wind coming down off the mountain would have blown her away.

He smiled as he remembered the feel of her naked body against his, though. Soft in all the right places.

Small and functional, her kitchen was as spartan as the rest of the cabin. A rustic wooden table for four stood butted against the wall in the corner, with only two chairs. Books were piled on one end. She probably read while she ate. Living alone, he did that, too. The small gas stove had two burners, and the large stockpot occupied half the range’s top.

“Smells good.”

She turned toward him and sparks blazed from her eyes. “I thought I told you to wait in the living room.”

He’d invaded her territory. “Never been much good at following orders.” He grinned, finding perverse pleasure in teasing her. At least being pissed at him was a response. More emotion than he’d receive otherwise. He glanced in the direction of her covered arm. Well, except when he’d hurt her a short while ago. He hated that.

She sighed and resumed stirring the pot. “It is a simple soup. Marc said to go easy at first.”

“You talked with Marc again?”

“No. He told me what to do the night of your accident, though.”

He grinned at the thought of the expression on her face when Marc delivered the news about how to do to avoid any worsening of his hypothermia.

“Oh, Angelina called while you were asleep. Matteo is staying at your ranch. I wrote down his number for you.”

“Thanks. I’ll give him a call in a little bit.”

Cassie crossed the tiny space to the cutting board on the table where a loaf of home-baked bread awaited. “I hope you like brown bread. Mi mamá’s recipe.”

“Looks wonderful. Thanks for going to all that trouble.”

She shook her head. “No trouble. I make it several times a week.” She cut several thick slices before placing a dish of softened butter in the center of the table. “Please, sit. You should not be on your feet.”

Bossy little thing.

From the cupboard, she pulled out a hand-thrown earthenware bowl with a deep green and rust-colored pattern and ladled out his bowl of soup. When she turned to place the bowl on the table, she saw he hadn’t sat down yet and scowled at him.

“You take that bowl,” he said, motioning to the other chair. He might be weak as a kitten, but he wouldn’t forget his manners. “I’ll grab my own.” Call him stubborn, but he’d been taking care of himself for a long time and wasn’t about to start letting her or anyone else wait on him.

“It is my duty to take care of you.”

Whether she wanted to or not. The unspoken words hung in the air between them.

“I’m fine. You’ve worked hard enough preparing this meal. I think I can manage to fill my own bowl.” Without waiting for her response, he pulled out a chair for her. She hesitated and finally took her seat. He helped scoot the chair in for her, filled a bowl with the savory soup, and took his own seat on the exposed side of the table to her left.

Head bowed, she reminded him to offer a silent blessing over his meal before he picked up the bread tray and offered her the first slice. She left the heel, which was his favorite, so he took it and slathered it with the creamy butter.

“Is this butter homemade?”

She nodded, placed a spoonful of soup in her mouth, and swallowed before speaking. “Not by me, though. I purchase it from a local farmer.”

After taking a healthy bite, he decided he’d have to find out who sold it. Glancing down at his soup again, he noticed some little balls floating in it that reminded him of pictures he’d seen of caviar. He took a spoonful, minding his manners and trying not to slurp. The balls tasted more nutty than fishy. “Soup’s excellent. What’s in it?”

“Just a hodgepodge of things I had on hand.”

She wasn’t going to enlighten him, so he might as well ask. “What are these little balls?”

“Amaranth. I used amaranth flour in the bread, too. I am sorry if you do not like it, but it is a Peruvian staple.”

“No, it tastes great! Don’t ever apologize for your cooking, darlin’. I didn’t experiment with a lot of exotic foods growing up. Mostly meat and potatoes at my house because my dad wouldn’t try anything else. Angel exposed me to some new things when she was staying out at my place last month, but I’m a functional cook at best. Anything you make, I’m sure I’ll love.”

“Potatoes are a staple in my native country, but we have so many more cultivated varieties than you have here. The Quechua, Mamá’s people, have a potato to cure every illness, I believe.” Cassie smiled then averted her gaze. “Sorry.”

“About what? I love hearing about other cultures and places.”

She didn’t continue to share, though. They ate in silence for a few moments. He didn’t feel a need to fill the silence between them as he might have with someone else. Still, after a few minutes, he spoke anyway.

“My wife wasn’t into cooking any more than I was, so we ate out when we could afford it or kept it simple and quick when we ate at home.” She nodded, remaining focused on her soup. She was a quiet one. Normally, so was he, but he felt like talking today. “Growing up, I usually ate whatever I could rustle up from a can or a box. My parents worked long hours on the pipeline projects. I had to fend for myself a lot as a teen, too, even though we’d settled down in El Paso by the time I hit high-school age. Guess I became used to taking the easy route with cooking.” He stopped, wondering what had made him share all that useless information. Maybe the silence between them grated on his nerves after all.

“That is unfortunate. Mamá was very traditional and stayed home to care for me and my brother.”

Luke took another bite and swallowed. “I envy you having a sibling.” His childhood had been a lonely one. They’d lived in half a dozen places from when he was born in Wyoming to when Momma declared they were settling down in El Paso—mainly so Luke could attend high school in one place. Lots of friends came and went, but nothing more than surface level until he met Maggie. Later, Marc had become the closest friend Luke had since Maggie.

“My wife was one of five kids. Very different dynamic.”

“I imagine so. Are they in Texas?”

Luke shrugged. “I suppose they still are. They don’t have a lot to do with me.” Her family blamed him for what had happened eight years ago—maybe not unjustly. Hell, they blamed him for taking her away from them, even though they were a dysfunctional mess from what she told him and other things he figured out on his own about how they’d treated her.

Recently, though, he’d come to realize Maggie was the one who had put the two of them in the dangerous predicament that killed her. She had been on yet another quest to find the next rare plant, hoping that doing a scientific paper on its properties might give her a leg up before the tenure board. Honestly, she probably sought the approval of the department chair. She never really lost her insecurities and the desire to please men of authority.

But neither of them knew anything about the mountains when they went to Colorado that spring, assuming winter was over due to the warm temperatures.

The rescue workers forced him away from the ledge.

Don’t think about that. Nothing he could do to change things now.

Luke’s head continued to throb as he finished the bowl of soup, and he leaned forward to place his forehead in his left hand as his stomach started to churn. He might be revisiting the john soon. Damned if he’d make her think he didn’t love her cooking, though, so he’d try to fight off the nausea.

Nope. Not working.

Luke stood too abruptly, and the room spun. He grabbed at the air to steady himself and found Cassie’s arm around his waist, holding him upright.

“Are you all right?”

“Sure.” Well, no, not exactly.

“We need to put you back in bed. You are still very weak from that blow to the head.”

“I had a few concussions during my college football days.” Even when he was a decade younger, Luke never wasted the day away sleeping.

“Perhaps that is causing this one to hit you harder. It has only been a couple of days.”

While he didn’t want to start letting his body rule him, he had no fight left. “You might be right.” Now his only thought was reaching the bed, not the bathroom.

“Let me help you.”

Dammit, he would make it to the bed under his own steam. “I’m fine.” I’d be better if the floor would stop moving.

“Do not argue with me, Lucas. I do not want you to fall and suffer another injury under my care.” Next thing he knew Cassie placed a hand on his chest and an arm around his back to steady him before steering him into the living room.

Unable to resist even if he’d wanted to, Luke let her guide him one step at a time until he was back in her small, dark bedroom being tucked into bed like a sick kid. He didn’t like being seen by her in that light—no way, no how.

But his stomach stopped churning now that he was flat on his back. Exhaustion made him too damned tired to argue. His body sagged into the tiny bed, and he closed his eyes. He’d rest a few minutes and be good as new.

Seconds later, he heard the click of the door and let the world fade away.

Chapter Two

Cassie knelt on Abuela’s folded green and black woven blanket that served as her meditation pallet in front of her altar in the far corner of her studio. Candlelight flickered, making the shadow of the potted bay tree dance against the wall and appear to grow before her eyes. The plant provided protection and helped invoke her psychic powers. A statue of her deity, Mama Quilla, also stood on the altar with arms outstretched and welcoming. While her alpaca had the Quechua spelling for moon, Cassie chose to use the Spanish spelling when referring to Goddess, perhaps because her spirituality was tied up in both Quechua and Catholic traditions, among others she learned about at uni.

She had strayed away from the Catholic traditions when she explored her own truth in college. She had begun to embrace a goddess deity over a male one even before she had been attacked. But the rape had only strengthened her faith in Mama Quilla. Praying to a male deity with so much power frightened her at that point in her life.

Even though her goddess had not spoken to her in years, she continued to try to connect during her meditation time. Usually, the exercise gave her moments of peace and quieted her mind.

Not this morning, though. Cassie’s body trembled from touching Lucas familiarly so often these past few days. The contact might not be considered intimate to anyone other than her, but touching any man went far beyond her comfort zone. Of course, not so long ago, their bodies had been pressed against each other as she tried to keep him warm.

She lit her white meditation candle to bring her her inner peace and comfort. Breathing in its pure light, she invited Mama Quilla into her sacred space, hoping She would remove this sense of…fear? That was the only word to describe what she felt. Her stomach had churned every minute since Lucas crashed into her sanctuary. Her heart beat erratically any time he drew near.

Similar feelings of fear around men had plagued her for five years, and yet it had evolved to be different somehow now.

Cassie closed her eyes and let her mind float to a place of beauty and peace, an Andean meadow where mountain flowers bobbed on the spring breeze, against a backdrop of steep, snow-covered peaks. Soon her body stopped shaking, allowing her to begin her meditation.

Confounding thoughts of Luke—no, call him Lucas—continued to keep her earthbound and unable to reach the deep meditative state she sought.

Lucas smiling.

Leave me alone.

Lucas bare-chested.

Leave me alone!

Lucas lying on top of her.

Leave. Me. Alone!

She could not rid her mind of the intrusive images. Her body trembled uncontrollably. She sighed and leaned forward to pinch out the candle flame with her finger and thumb. Perhaps she should go to the shed to check on the animals and make sure they were okay. Were her babies aware that an unwanted male had invaded their once safe, peaceful sanctuary? Did they care? Life was so simple for them. They had each other for company and Cassie to see to their needs.

Lucas would sleep for hours most likely. His body remained weak from his accident—although, when her hand pressed against his chest, she had not detected any sign of such weakness. The man was solid sinew and muscle. He must be very active at something besides carpentry and art. She had no interest in finding out how he stayed in shape.

None whatsoever. In fact, she had no interest in the man at all. She just wanted him off her mountain!

When she entered the shed, Graciela came to her side immediately, distressed about something. “What is the matter, girl? Having a hard time sleeping with that swollen belly of yours?” The alpaca hummed, expressing her misery, and Cassie sympathized with the poor dear. This cria would be a first for both of them. So far, everything seemed to be going well with the pregnancy. According to Cassie’s sources, alpacas tended not to need a lot of help birthing their babies. Still, Cassie sensed this would not be an easy delivery—perhaps because neither of them had been through the experience before. And she had learned the hard way to trust her instincts.

Or was she projecting her own jitters about being a first-time mamina onto the creature? The four alpacas had only been here about six months, and she still had much to learn.

“What shall we do about him, Graciela?” The alpaca gave her a blank stare before humming again. Of course, she did not know the person Cassie mentioned. The alpacas had not yet met Lucas.

Cassie gave her a pat on the neck before setting to work filling the feed bins and heated water trough. Leaving the warm, dry shed, she fought to find her way back to the house using the rope lines strung between the buildings. The wind had whipped up and torrents of snow lashed at her face. The snowstorm had brewed slowly the first two days at blizzard strength, but now the winds had decreased somewhat. She wished they would blow away the snow blocking Lucas’s exit, but knew from experience, strong winds only meant even higher drifts to deal with, lengthening the amount of time he might be stuck up here.

When would she be rid of the man sleeping inside her cabin?

She entered the mudroom and removed her boots and wet poncho, hanging the latter on two hooks to dry. Her socks grew wet from the melting snow on the floor so she stripped those off, too, and started toward the fireplace to warm up.

An anguished shout from the bedroom stopped her dead in her tracks.

“Noooo!”

Not again. Her heart pounded at the fear and horror in his voice. She could not stand to let him remain lost in the dark world of his nightmare, knowing that place quite well herself. She inched toward the bedroom door with dread. He had overpowered her before, triggering her flashback. Light from the living room shone on Lucas as he lay in her bed. His feet thrashed, apparently trying to kick off the blankets. Still, Cassie hesitated, afraid he might lash out at her again if she came too close.

But she remembered her training. If she could not fight off a man in Lucas’s weakened state, her self-defense training had been for nothing. That assurance did not make this situation any easier.

“Lucas, wake up! You are dreaming!”

His arm thrust outward, extending over the edge of the bed. But he remained asleep. She banged on the headboard, hoping to awaken him, but nothing.

Goddess, why me?

Climbing onto the bed, she straddled him, grabbing his hand as he swung it toward her face. She pressed it into the pillow above his head. “Lucas, you are only dreaming.”

“Oh, God. Take me, not them!” The gravelly sound of his voice broke her heart.

Perhaps he would answer to his nickname. “Luke, wake up. Now!”

He blinked his eyes open and squinted in the dim light spilling in from the living room. She had kept the light off so he could sleep. His body needed rest more than anything else, but he would not recover quickly enough if his sleep continued to be plagued with nightmares. Did he dream like this all the time? If so, how could he function on so little sleep? Her nightmares had lessened over the years, but when they came, they were just as fierce as if she were back in that cantina.

He furrowed his brows as he searched her face. Did he recognize her? She released his hands and sat up to break contact with him.

“Do you remember where you are?”

He nodded. “In your cabin, Cassie. There was another avalanche.”

“Well, only the one this year.”

He nodded. “Right. I was following you home to make sure you were safe.”

At least the delirium had not returned.

He reached up and tucked her hair behind her left ear before stroking her cheek as if uncertain she was real. “Last year, I dreamed of an angel. Got confused about who it was at first until you…”

Clearly, he was still confused. “What are you talking about?” I am in nobody’s dreams, much less as an angel. Maybe the delirium had returned after all.

“I dreamed you were…well, it’s a little complicated. First, Maggie said she was sending me an angel. In my sleep, I saw you in a meadow working on a painting of quaking aspens. It was autumn.” He reached up and ran a strand of her hair between the side of his index finger and his thumb, setting her stomach on edge. “You had long dark hair…” His knuckle brushed against her breast and robbed her of her next breath. “…and soft, olive skin.”

Dreaming about an angel, though? Had his wife reached out from the other side to deliver some kind of prophetic message from the Universe? As if Cassie could be any man’s angel. Then it dawned on her.

“Your wife must have been predicting that I would be the one to rescue you from your truck after the avalanche.” Yes, of course. That was it. She relaxed and pulled farther away so that her hair was no longer being touched, and he rested his hand on the mattress. She could see how he might have misinterpreted the dreamed message to mean she was his angel.

Lucas seemed to mull over her explanation, and the light left his eyes. He nodded. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. I didn’t put two and two together, but that makes more sense than…”

He trailed off, but they both knew what the alternative interpretation to that vision might be. She shuddered. Her spiritual obligation must end the moment she nursed him back to health and took him home.

Realizing she still straddled his waist, Cassie swung her leg off him and stood beside the bed as he sat up. She thanked the Goddess she had not been pressed against his hips because if he had become sexually excited, she would have hauled him out to the shed to sleep with the alpacas. He did not appear to be coming on to her—just momentarily dazed and confused.

“What were you dreaming when I came in here just now?”

He winced as the memory came back. “About my wife. How she…died.”

“You miss her very much, do you not?” The question popped out before she could stop it. She did not want to delve into his past.

Lucas looked down at the blanket covering him. “She’s been gone eight years. I don’t think about her every waking moment the way I used to.”

No, but she still invades your dreams.

Perhaps the avalanche churned up unresolved feelings he was unaware of harboring. Regrets? No, worse than that. “You blame yourself for not saving her.”

He scrutinized her a moment, and then his words came out in a hoarse whisper. “Some, I guess. Mostly, I’m pissed that I didn’t know more about the nature of these mountains and didn’t stop her from that fool mission to photograph one of her rare plants.”

Against her better judgment, Cassie sat at the foot of the bed, ensuring she was far enough away from him to escape if she needed a head start. Perhaps talking about his living nightmare might help him find some much-needed healing and peace. “Tell me about that day.”

Again, he stared long and hard at her. She doubted he would be forthcoming. Then, as if the floodgates had opened, he began to tell the story.

“It was spring, early May. She was on a break at UT. Should have been grading final papers, I guess, but she heard about this plant in a remote area of Mount Evans that only bloomed for a short time, so she insisted we take a long weekend and drive up here.”

He pulled his knees up and propped his wrists on them, letting his large, tanned hands dangle between them. Non-threatening.

“We hiked quite a ways from the parking lot before she spotted a clump of them on an outcropping of rock, tucked into a crevice.” He closed his eyes, lost in the memory. “She asked me to photograph it for her. I did a lot of nature photography then, mostly for her.”

The silence spread out between them, making her feel as though she might tumble into the same abyss that stored his memories.

Just let him tell his story, Cassie. Do not make yourself a part of it.

“I wasn’t paying attention to where she was—just wanted to take the best photo I could. All of a sudden, she screamed.”

He made a fist with his right hand, and she fought the urge to reach out and comfort him. Realizing that would only pull him out of the story, not to mention bring the two of them too close together, she remained still. He needed to relive it until he could release himself from the misplaced blame and guilt.

“God, sometimes that scream wakes me out of a dead sleep to this day.”

“I know.”

He opened his eyes and looked at her. “Is that what brought you in here? Did I scream out in my sleep again?”

She nodded. “I know what it feels like to be in the grip of nightmares.” And flashbacks. “I did not want you to suffer. These memories have too much power over us when we are asleep.”

Sometimes during the daytime, too.

“Thanks for understanding. I appreciate that. It’s been a long time since I’ve dreamt about that day. Now, every time I close my eyes…”

“The avalanche probably stirred up old memories.”

He nodded. “Probably.”

She waited for him to continue, but when he remained silent, she prompted him. “What happened next?”

“When she screamed, I turned in time to watch her body come to a sudden stop at the bottom of a scree slope. When the dust cleared, I saw that the sharp rocks had cut up her face. She banged her head on a rock ledge where she landed.” He closed his eyes again and then opened them quickly, as if the image had only grown sharper in his mind’s eye.

“Was she conscious?”

“She didn’t respond at first, but a minute or two later—seemed like hours—she moaned. I called to her, and she spoke with me a bit. Confused, for sure, but she recognized me and knew where we were. I figured I’d better go get help because it wouldn’t do her any good if I went down to her and got stuck, too. We didn’t bring ropes or rappelling equipment.”

He reached for the worn leather band on his wrist and twisted it. “I’ve only felt that helpless one time since.”

She did not ask but wondered what other event could have left him any more helpless than watching his injured wife and not being able to save her from certain doom. Had he lost—or nearly lost—someone else close to him?

Her heart tugged, but she refused to allow herself to pity him. She could not let her guard down. No doubt, many women would find him attractive with his classic features—high cheekbones, strong chin, and affable smile. Not Cassie.

Would he continue to share the story about his wife? Should she encourage him to or just let him keep those sad memories buried deep inside? She would not have wanted him to prod her about her own past. So why did she ask, “What happened when you returned to her with help?”

He refocused on her face. “The EMTs, rescue workers, and I came back within an hour of the fall since we weren’t wandering around on a wild-goose chase the way Maggie and I had been. She was lucid, but in a lot of pain. Probably broke her arm or wrist in the fall.” He paused, blinking several times. No doubt he would have traded places with her, if only he could. “They wouldn’t let me go down to her. God, I just wanted to hold her. Let her know she wasn’t alone.” His voice broke, and Cassie wanted to hold and comfort him, but kept her distance out of fear. He might misinterpret her intentions. “There wouldn’t have been much I could have done to help. I hadn’t been trained for SAR back then.”

Perhaps she could help ease some of his pain by sharing her experience when channeling his dead wife. “I know it does not bring her back, but when she came to me to create that sketch of her and your unborn baby, she was at peace. She held no anger or resentment toward you or anyone else.”

Tears swam in his eyes before he turned away. “I look at that picture every morning when I get out of bed. It’s given me peace of mind, especially knowing she’s together with our baby. Thank you for sharing it with me.”

“I am not a medium or anything. Perhaps she came to me because you and I were in the same room. She guided me to sketch that image. I just conveyed what she showed me onto the paper.”

Lucas grinned and met her gaze again. “Yeah, she could be forceful like that. Lord knows I never could tell her no.” His smile faded, and she saw regret in his eyes. He blamed himself still. She hoped he would one day let go of that useless emotion. Regret never solved anything.

Perhaps someday I will take my own advice to heart.

“May I get you anything?”

“No, I’m fine. Too tired to get up. I’ll just try to go back to sleep now. I appreciate you checking on me. Sorry to be such a pain.”

His gratitude warmed her heart, even though she felt guilty accepting it given how much she wished she had not been forced to take care of him at all. “Just get well. I am sure you wish to return home as soon as possible.”

Not as much as I wish for you to go home.

“I’ll do my best.”

She nodded and stood. “Only pleasant dreams this time.”

Cassie realized she truly hoped he would sleep peacefully. Something about this man made her want him to heal from his unbearable loss.

* * *

Luke ached from head to calves when he sat up in the tiny bed and swung his legs over the side of the mattress. How long had he slept this time? He had no concept of time in his windowless prison room. Last he remembered, he was spilling his guts to Cassie about Maggie. What had prompted that much revelation? He rarely talked about that day to anyone.

Sitting up was a chore, harder than training a horse to saddle and rider. Hell, much as he hated calling that process breaking a horse, he felt like the one who had been broken this time. A shiver made him aware he was half-naked. He’d been the one to strip off his clothes after that nightmare. He had finally warmed up, but being out from under the covers reminded him that he was at twelve thousand feet, near a mountain pass, in a cold-ass cabin.

Damn, but Cassie kept this place glacial, despite the space heater she’d left running for him in here. No wonder she wore so many layers of clothes. He needed to work on that fireplace blower today. He hoped it wouldn’t require any parts he couldn’t fashion himself out of whatever she had laying around.

What day was it? His internal clock had been broken, too. Noticing a floor lamp for the first time, Luke flipped the switch, but didn’t see a clock in the room. He glanced around the seriously utilitarian bedroom. He thought his house was bare of ornamentation, but at least his mom had put some of her soft touches here and there—chenille bedspread, fake flowers in pots in the kitchen, even the bowl of seashells in his bathroom that he’d collected at Galveston Beach on a rare vacation when he was nine. Momma was sentimental about things like that and had kept them all those years.

Cassie’s bedroom was small and dark and had no mementos whatsoever to hint at her past. Kind of reminded him of how a monk or nun lived in the olden days. Hell, even they probably had more personal touches in their rooms than he saw in this one. The only splashes of color came from the Indian blankets on her bed. The geometric patterns in vibrant greens and reds on one blanket counterbalanced the somber blacks and whites of another. He wondered if she’d made them herself. No, probably not. They looked like heirlooms. And at daVinci’s bar, she’d said fiber art was new to her.

Then again, she might have used a loom back in her home country—Bolivia? No, Peru. Many people made a distinction between creating functional items like blankets as opposed to artwork only to be displayed on a wall but never used. He didn’t agree with that thinking. He preferred creating pieces of art that would be useful items as well, like the furniture he made for his and other people’s homes, or even play equipment for the Masters at Arms kink club. Somehow, he could see Cassie feeling the same way about functional art—even if she only enjoyed the art herself at home.

But she had done that gallery exhibition of her paintings months ago, so clearly she wanted to share her art. Come to think of it, he hadn’t seen many decorations on her walls anywhere in the cabin, so maybe her art was only created to be shared with or sold to others. Not for her to enjoy.

In this room, the cabin’s chinking and logs provided the only wall adornment. Hell, who slept in a room without a window? Did she enjoy living in a cave? More like a tomb. How could someone living on a gorgeous mountain peak want to be so closed off from all that beauty? If he’d built this place, he’d not only have a window, but a skylight above the bed so he could watch the stars come out at night and make their trek across the sky.

He shook his head to clear it of his fanciful notions. How Cassie chose to live was none of his business.

Luke grabbed his shirt from the ladder-back chair beside the bed, again showing she had an appreciation for functional art. Next, he pushed his feet and legs into his jeans. With a grunt, he rose and waited for the expected dizziness to hit. When it didn’t, he figured maybe the worst of the concussion was behind him. He tucked his shirt into his jeans before zipping and buttoning them closed.

Luke’s stomach growled, taking his attention away from the chill in the room. His appetite had returned full force. Steak and eggs sure would hit the spot this morning.

Luke entered the frigid living room and glanced around. No Cassie. He didn’t hear any sounds from the kitchen, either. She must be in the shed with her alpacas, or maybe she’d gone to her studio. He’d like to see where she worked but wouldn’t invade that space the way he had the rest of her house. An artist’s place of work was sacred, deeply personal, and no one should enter without an explicit invitation.

Somehow, he didn’t expect that invite to be forthcoming anytime soon. She was one private person. Hell, so was he. The only time anyone had been in his studio was when he needed help moving a covered piece to his truck for delivery.

The fire had died down—whether because he’d asked or from neglect, he didn’t know. Had she slept in her studio? She sure as hell hadn’t shared that bed with him. He hoped she’d been warm wherever she had bedded down. Tonight, he’d take the floor in here and let her have her bed back.

But his first order of business was rustling up some breakfast—or whatever meal it was time for. Then he’d take the insert apart and see what the problem was with the blower. Maybe he could have some decent heat blazing in this cabin soon.

Although, Cassie sure seemed to prefer the cold. Must be from growing up in the Andes. Or maybe his body had softened in the comparatively warmer climes of West Texas? His stomach growled again, and he decided he’d eat before trying to find—or decipher—the woman who was Cassie López. A thorough survey of the contents of the fridge told him eggs wouldn’t be on the menu, and he wasn’t going to invade her freezer hunting for a steak without permission, so he ladled out a bowl of the delicious soup she’d served at his last meal. While it microwaved to a scalding hot temperature, he sliced off a thick slab of her amaranth bread. Soon, he sat down at the table and dug in, blowing on the spoonful of soup to cool it down. He took a tentative bite and closed his eyes.

Damn, but the girl could cook.

He’d been living out of cans and prepared boxed dinners for so long he appreciated every flavorful bite. After having his fill of a second bowl, he still had not seen or heard any sign of Cassie, so he decided now was the time to tackle that fireplace repair before his energy failed him again. He noticed the circuit-breaker box on the wall in the corner. She’d clearly labeled the circuits, and he cut the juice to the fireplace.

Thirty minutes later, he had the insert pulled away from the fireplace and quickly figured out what the problem was. Luckily, it was fixable using the tools he’d found in her kitchen drawer—exactly where his momma kept hers, too. Good thing. A run to the hardware store wasn’t going to happen anytime soon.

“What are you doing up?”

Luke glanced across the room to where Cassie stood covered shoulder to knees in her ever-present woolen poncho. She’d come from outside. Her studio must not be inside the cabin. Or maybe she’d been taking care of the alpacas.

“Fixing the insert’s fan.”

“You should not be doing that so soon.”

“Sorry, but I’m tired of freezing my ass off.” He heard how cranky he sounded and gave her a smile to soften his rant. “It was an easy fix. Besides, I’m almost good as new thanks to your wonderful care, darlin’.”

He expected her to bite his head off, but she merely took a deep breath. Maybe she was warming up to him and his endearments. He wiped the grin off his face before he pissed her off—again.

“You should be in bed.”

“Spent enough time in bed already. I need to do something useful.”

He stood from his kneeling position and shoved the stove insert back into the fireplace with both hands and his shoulder as if shoving a blocking sled down a football field. His upper body strength was pitiful at the moment, but it slammed home, and he stood, working out a kink in his shoulder. Man, he was seriously out of shape.

“Now, I’ll turn the circuit back on, and we’ll build a fire we can enjoy together this afternoon.”

“I do not have time to sit by the fire.”

“Then why don’t you let me help with your chores to free up some time?”

“I can take care of my obligations, Lucas.”

“Call me Luke.”

“I prefer Lucas.”

Probably because she wanted an air of formality between them, even though they were sharing the same house. Hell, they’d even shared the same bed a couple of nights. He grinned at the memory. Luke was all about tearing down the barriers between them. She might come across as a prickly-pear cactus, but Luke sensed it was all a façade. Why was she trying to hide her true nature? If Karla thought so much of her, there must be more to her than she allowed the rest of the world to see.

“Darlin’, we’re going to be together here for at least a week or two. Might as well get it through your head that I’m not going to just lie around here and mooch off you. Put me to work.”

The sparks that flew from her gaze told him he had his work cut out for him on that front, too. “You are supposed to be recuperating. Marc said no strenuous exercise for at least a week.”

He’d deal with Marc later.

“Where’s your woodpile?” He pointed to the four remaining pieces of split wood on the hearth. “These aren’t going to last more than a couple of hours.”

He didn’t expect her to back down, but after a tense moment, she pointed toward the front door. “There is some split dry wood in the mudroom. I will chop some more later if we need it.”

Like hell you will. “Splittin’ wood’s a man’s job.”

She placed her hands on her hips. “If I had waited for a man, I would have frozen to death a long time ago.”

The girl had a point. “But now you have me to help out.”

“Lucas, you need to understand something. You are only here until you are well enough to go home. If you can split wood and make repairs, then you can hike out of here and call someone to pick you up along the highway at the pass.”

Luke wasn’t sure if it was the image of making that daunting hike in his current condition or the thought of leaving Cassie so soon that hurt the worst. He’d better cool it with the “he-man provider” shit if he didn’t want her to kick him out on his ass. Apparently, she wasn’t in need of being taken care of, probably because she’d had to rely on herself for a long time. Too bad for him. He liked being able to take care of a woman’s needs.

Maybe there were other needs she did need a man’s help with.

She started toward the kitchen before facing him again. “What would you like for breakfast?”

“Nothin’, darlin’.” Her hackles must have risen when he used the endearment again, judging by the stiffness in her shoulders. Half the time, the word was out before he even realized he’d said it. Hell, he’d been using words like that on girls since college—maybe high school. She sure was cute when riled up, though. “I helped myself to your delicious soup and bread already. You go ahead, though. I’ll start a fire.”

He watched her body as she walked away, wishing he could see the sway of her hips in those thigh-hugging jeans, but the long poncho/sweater-like thing she wore hid most of her backside from view. Front side, too, for that matter. The design on the back was an abstract of falling leaves.

Obviously, she wore so many layers around here because it was so cold. Once these flames caught and started putting out heat, would he manage to get her to peel off any?

Luke sighed. Yeah, right. No woman sent out more “don’t come near me” vibes than this one. She clearly wasn’t putting out any signals that indicated an interest in him sexually or any way other than as her patient, despite his efforts to engage her in conversation. Although he’d been drawn to her since the first time he saw her in that hospital waiting room, the only reason he was here with her was because he’d gotten himself stuck up here against her wishes. Sure, the gentle grace and slight vulnerability she exuded brought out every male instinct he possessed, but she was capable of taking care of herself and had no interest in male companionship, much less anything more carnal. It was best to keep his physical distance and just focus on getting well.

But while he was here, he intended to do his share of the work. At the very least, he wanted to show his appreciation for all she’d done for him. Jeezus, she’d saved his damned ass. He owed this girl—big time.

As he arranged the kindling and cardboard on the grate, he thought he heard muttering in the kitchen. No doubt Cassie was chewing his ass up one side and down the other. How appealing was it that she talked to herself? He guessed living alone did that to a person. He was guilty of the same thing, although he waited until he was inside the barn with the horses so at least the horses heard his ramblings.

Luke opened the dampers, struck a match, and the fire soon roared to life. He waited a few minutes as the heat built up, mesmerized by the flames, before he closed the doors. Fire always fascinated him when it was controlled like this. He’d been involved in a number of rescue missions where wildfires had taken a toll on life and property.

When the blower kicked on, he smiled and adjusted the dampers. Score. At least he had earned some of his room and board. Suddenly worn out, he crossed the room and stretched out on the loveseat, his legs sticking over the armrest from the calves down. He leaned his head against the top of the opposite armrest and closed his eyes, planning to rest his eyes for just a few minutes.

“I am sorry I snapped at you earlier, Lu—”

Luke blinked his eyes open to glance up and find Cassie standing across the room from him.

“Oh! I did not know you were sleeping.”

How long had he dozed? She didn’t have any food with her, so she must have already eaten in the kitchen. He swung his legs to the floor and stood up. “No worries.” His head throbbed at the sudden change in position.

“I am not used to having anyone taking care of things I should be doing myself.”

Sounded like Maggie. She never wanted his help much, either. “You’re a busy girl. I have nothing but time on my hands.”

“Would you at least give yourself a couple more days to heal? And stop thinking you have to repay me for anything. I would take care of any injured person or animal without expecting anything in return.”

“Darlin’, I wasn’t raised to freeload. I’ve made my own way in life since college, and I’m not going to start mooching off you or anyone else now.” He pointed to the fireplace. “I have a knack for fixing stuff like this. Might as well put me to work while I’m here. Otherwise I’m just going to follow you around and wind up in your hair.” He glanced at her long, thick tresses, wondering what it would feel like to run his hands through them.

She blinked at him a few times as she processed his speech. “If I asked again, would you stop calling me ‘darling’?”

He grinned. “Shoot, where I come from everyone uses darlin’, sugar, or sweetie. Would you prefer one of those instead?”

“I’d prefer Cassie.”

“If I call you Cassie instead of Casandra or whatever it’s short for, will you call me Luke?”

“I am Cassie. Only Cassie.” Fire smoldered in her eyes. “But Lucas is your given name.”

“Same difference then. I’d rather you call me Luke.”

She stared a long moment and then sighed deeply. “Fine, then.” Touchdown pass. “You may call me whatever nickname you like, Lucas.”

Or maybe another fumble. While he was happy to hear that he could still use the endearments that came so naturally to him, he wished she’d stop calling him Lucas. His momma used his full name—Stephen Lucas Denton—when he was in trouble, but everyone else had called him Luke since second grade. On the other hand, Lucas was probably a sight better than what she probably called him in her head when she was ticked off at him.

Like now.

“I do appreciate you fixing the fireplace. I am not mechanically inclined.”

He grinned. “No worries…Sweet Pea.” He wasn’t sure what prompted him to choose that unique pet name just for Cassie, but it fit. On the surface, she was beautiful, just like the purple flowers. But underneath, the girl was one tangled up mess. He hoped he’d be able to sort her out someday.

She blinked a couple of times at his words and then sighed. “I am going back to the studio.” She walked away from him and then tossed over her shoulder, “You should rest.”

Clearly, she wasn’t allowing him inside her private sanctuary any time soon.

He grunted noncommittally and, after she left the cabin, searched for something to do. Everything seemed to be in its place, even though, like the bedroom, this one had very little clutter. No knickknacks to make the place personal. Resembled a mountain vacation rental rather than the place someone had called home for years.

Earth tones dominated the living room, except for a rare splash of color in an Indian blanket draped over the loveseat. This one was primarily red and showed terraced triangles and arrows in black.

Restless and once again feeling the effects of diminished stamina, Luke returned to the fireplace to poke at the flaming logs and added the last ones. The room already felt warmer than the bedroom ever would, but the loveseat wasn’t long enough for him to sleep comfortably. He pulled a couple of cushions off the couch and retrieved a couple blankets and some pillows from the bedroom. He went to the bathroom where he shucked off his clothes, including his boxers. After washing them out in the sink, he hung them to dry in front of the fire and stretched out on the floor, a blanket around his waist.

Memories flooded him of the time when he was a kid pretending to camp out by the fireplace in that rundown farmhouse in South Carolina. Even though that fireplace had been boarded up, he had used his imagination. He’d done that a lot as a kid. Didn’t have a lot of friends since they moved around so much.

Thinking about his childhood reminded him he needed to call Momma in a day or two or she’d worry. She only called once a week now, so she wouldn’t think anything out of the ordinary unless he went beyond Sunday. She’d be heading north to spend the month of July with him at the ranch. For years now, she had been spending July with him in Colorado, not only to visit but also to shop and sightsee. This would be her first time seeing the ranch.

His dad had never visited him in Colorado, period, not even when Luke lived in the townhouse in Denver. But Momma came up every July. Surprised the hell out of him that Dad said he planned to join her this year. Said he looked forward to seeing Luke’s mustang rescue operation, but more than likely, he’d back out.

Luke hoped so, anyway. The thought of passing Dad’s inspection made Luke as nervous as a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs. When he was younger, he’d dreamed about gaining the old man’s approval, but now he didn’t really care. Much. He was proud of what he was doing and hoped his dad would be, too. If not, well, status quo.

The flames licked at the air above the logs, and Luke’s eyes drooped. He needed to bring in more wood, but he was so damned tired…

The smell of an unfamiliar spice awakened him, and he glanced around the living room. Alone. The scraping of a pot alerted him that Cassie must be back in the kitchen, so he pulled on his boxers, which had dried thanks to the blower, and his jeans. He stood to fasten the fly. Too hot now for the shirt. For the first time since he came to in Cassie’s cabin—except maybe when she was pressed against him in her bed—he felt warm.

Cassie’s back was turned as she stirred a pot on the stove.

“Something smells good.” Her shoulders tensed when she heard his voice, but she recovered quickly and stirred the pot some more.

“Puca picante with rice.”

He approached and glanced over her shoulder into the pan. “Wow, that sure is red!”

Cassie giggled, the cutest sound he’d ever heard. “That is what puca means in my native language.”

“And picante means it has a helluva kick to it.”

“Oh, yes. I hope you do not mi…” She turned and her eyes opened wide.

* * *

Cassie found herself staring at Lucas’s bare chest. A slight tan line on his arms showed he did not always go shirtless outdoors. So why was he not wearing his shirt now? His nipples stood out ruddy brown against a light sprinkling of sandy-colored hair around his pecs. Blond. Not like…

The tight confines of her kitchen became even more restrictive. Her face grew warm as her heartbeats fluttered erratically, stealing her breath away. Confused, she did not know if he had triggered her fight-or-flight response or if she was merely embarrassed at his state of undress. He did not send out a danger vibe at all, so it must be the latter.

I am safe. He is not one of them.

Swallowing past the lump in her throat, “Um, this might be a little too spicy. I sometimes forget how hot my cooking is for those not used to it.” Her words came out in a rush. Lucas’s half-naked body set off too many alarm bells for her to process. She turned back to the stove.

“Don’t mind a little spice at all. I grew up in West Texas. I even came out the victor in a serrano pepper eating contest at an Austin Tex-Mex cantina once during college.”

“The aji panca peppers in here are much milder than serrano. You should be fine.” But I am not. He was much less threatening when naked and delirious. Cassie’s face grew as hot as if she had bitten into a serrano herself—or perhaps a habanero. “Excuse me.”

Needing to put some space between herself and the heat pouring off this man’s naked chest, she scooted around him and lifted the curtain over the pantry to scoop out some rice from the bin.

When she turned around, he had not budged from near the stove. “You should go rest until I finish making dinner. I will call you when it is ready.”

“I’ve slept long enough. Tell me what I can do to help.”

Remove your half-naked body from my kitchen.

Be nice, Cassie. He probably was unaware of the effect his nearness had on her. “Would you please set the table?” At least that would move him away from her stove—where she needed to be if they were going to eat tonight. He went about doing as she had requested, lifting several curtains at the cupboards before finding plates. She poured the rice into the boiling water. With surprise, she noted that seeing Lucas’s naked chest had not triggered an actual flashback, only discomfort of some unknown origin. A man had not aroused her in more than five years. So it could not be that.

As she stirred the rice, she wondered if he would put on a shirt anytime soon. She did not intend to sit beside him at the table if he remained half-dressed. At least he had put his pants on. When she had come in from the studio to find him sleeping by the fire, his white underwear hanging like a flag of surrender from the fireplace tool set, she wondered if he had fixed the fireplace so he could strut around her cabin nude.

If so, he had better think again.

“What are you working on in your studio?”

Cassie refused to face him. “I just finished a portrait of my parents, but have not gone on to a new piece yet.”

“Ah. Planning a trip home soon?”

Now that made her turn to stare at him—but at his face, not his chest—wondering how he had come to that conclusion. “No.” It was none of his business, so why did she feel compelled to tell him anything about her plans? “My brother will be visiting soon and can take it to them. I cannot…leave my animals.”

“If you ever need someone to take care of them so you can go home for a visit, I’m just down the highway.”

How to respond without seeming ungrateful? She turned back toward the stove. “I appreciate that. I will keep your offer in mind.” Even though she would never take him up on it. She could never return home, no matter how much she missed her family. Missing occasions like her parents’ upcoming anniversary and renewal of vows tore at her heart, but there was no way she could make that journey to her former home.

Cassie stirred the potato and beet dish and blinked away the stinging in her eyes. Maybe she had used hotter aji panca paste than intended.

She hoped Lucas would like what she had prepared but had not planned on having him or anyone else up here as a guest, so her pantry was filled with comfort foods and staples more familiar to a Peruvian kitchen than an American one.

“Excuse me. I’d better check on the fire.” Lucas left the room, and she took several deep breaths while she could. She wished he would let the blasted fire go out so he would become cold again and put on his clothes. Fortunately, when he returned a few minutes later, he wore his shirt.

Thank you, Goddess.

After filling their plates at the stove, they sat at the table and ate in silence for a few moments.

“Can’t believe I’m eating beets. You sure make them taste better than the ones my momma boiled and slathered with butter.”

“It is mi mamá’s recipe.” She was surprised he ate them without balking if he did not care for beets, but his second bite had been as big as his first. Apparently, he was an adventurous eater.

“So your brother will be coming for a visit?”

“Yes. In a couple of weeks.”

“I’m an only child. Must be nice having a sibling.”

She shrugged. “Sometimes it can also be exasperating. Eduardo is very…protective of me. Smothering almost. Bossy. He is the older one. I love him, but we do not see eye to eye on many things, including how often I should return home for visits.” Hoping to change the subject, she asked, “Why did you start rescuing horses? I thought Kitty told me you were a carpenter and artist.”

“Just fell into it, kinda like most of the things I’ve done in my life. Heard about Picasso, a SAR-trained horse whose owner became too old and sick to care for him properly.” He paused a moment and took a deep breath. “Maggie and I used to dream about one day owning a small ranch in Texas, but…well, we didn’t…” He took another hearty bite and chewed slowly, perhaps to gather his thoughts before continuing. After swallowing, he continued. “But I had some money from the insurance policy she had at the university and decided it would be a nice legacy for her if I started a little horse sanctuary up here. It’s almost as easy to take care of four horses as it is one.”

“Why did your other horses need rescuing?”

Lucas clenched his jaw, exuding anger. She sat back to put more distance between them and glanced toward the door, certain she could escape if need be. But somehow she understood his anger was not directed toward her.

“O’Keeffe, Cassatt, and Fontana had been abused and neglected.” He fisted his left hand as if wanting to punch something—or someone. “All three mustangs were rescued from a ranch downstate where they’d been through hell.”

Tears shimmered in her eyes. “How can anyone hurt a defenseless animal?”

“Search me.” He set his fork down and leaned toward her, stealing the air from the room and her lungs. “We work on establishing routine activities. I haven’t even started introducing them to other people yet. That’s why I need to go home as soon as I can.” He ran his hand through his hair. “I hope they’re learning with Matt that there are other people around who aren’t going to hurt them. I worry about how they’re handling my absence, though.”

She reached out and touched the top of his hand. “You are a good man for taking in those poor horses, Lucas.”

“Anybody with half a heart would have done the same.” His words reminded her of how she had explained her reason for rescuing him.

Suddenly seeing that her hand covered his, she yanked hers back. “But you gave up your house in Denver to move into a new place just so they could have a safe haven. That is more than most would do.”

Lucas shrugged and then grinned. “Always was a sucker for someone who needed rescuing. Even Maggie…” His smile faded, and he shook his head. “Sorry. Still miss her.”

She wondered what he had been about to say, but did not pry. “I cannot imagine what her death must have done to you. You are a very strong man to go on.”

“Not much choice.”

“But I hope you will never be afraid to do what is right, especially if the well-being of a person or an animal is at stake. ‘We can judge the heart of a man by his treatment of animals.’”

Lucas met her gaze. “That’s one of my favorite quotes from Kant.”

She smiled, surprised to find he’d read the philosopher. “Mine, too.” There was more to Lucas Denton than met the eye, but his love of animals told her he was a gentle, caring man.

The silence drew out a moment, but she did not feel discomfort in the quietude. Perhaps Lucas would find some of the usefulness he sought by spending time with her alpacas. Might make him feel less frustrated, too. He seemed to be someone who needed to be doing something to keep from going stark raving mad.

“How would you like to help me prepare my babies for bed?”

He quirked a brow and then nodded. “I’d like that a lot. Let me just check in with Matt first, and then I’ll grab my coat.”

Chapter Three

Luke didn’t know what had changed the mood between them, but he welcomed this relaxed Cassie over the one with her defenses on high alert.

Like him, she had a soft spot for any living creature in need. They also had art in common.

While cooking supper, she’d taken off her poncho. He’d tried not to stare and make her uncomfortable, but the girl had curves in all the right places. She shouldn’t hide her body so much.

After the dishes had been scraped and stacked in the sink to soak for washing later, he followed her outside to the shed. The sun was setting, its softer rays gleaming off the drifts of snow. When had the blizzard ended?

A quick survey of the compound revealed a shed to the left, a lean-to nearby half-sheltering her Tahoe, and a more modern but smaller structure down a winding path from the cabin’s front door. Her studio? He hoped she’d allow him inside before he had to leave. But he’d wait for an invitation.

Cassie had donned a wool poncho that came to her knees. At least this time there was reason for being bundled up. Man, it was frigid up here, and the wind blew like a banshee.

She slid the bolt back and opened the door to the shed. He grabbed for it and held it against the battering winds until she entered then followed her inside, letting the door slam shut. The shed smelled of straw and alfalfa. Warmth from the animals and what looked like a heating system over each of four stalls took the chill away.

“Nice and cozy in here.”

He didn’t remind her that these creatures were used to being outdoors in the mountain climes of South America. “Does all the heat affect how thick their fleece is?”

She ran her hand down the flank of one very pregnant alpaca. “If it does, then so be it. I want them to be comfortable.”

Cassie had a good heart. He came up on the other side of the pregnant one. “When’s she due?”

“Any time really, but the vet says two weeks.”

He’d probably miss out on seeing the birth, which bothered him for some reason. He would have liked to experience that with Cassie.

He stroked the animal’s long neck. “Man, that’s soft.”

“Nothing softer. Graciela is the only one pregnant now. I wanted to start slowly this first year until I know what I am doing.”

“Good thinking.” To the alpaca, he said, “Did you know you have one smart momma, Gracie?”

The animal made a humming noise as if agreeing with him.

He glanced across the animal’s back to where Cassie retrieved two empty buckets and a scoop for the bags of feed. The woman didn’t acknowledge his words of praise. Perhaps she didn’t take compliments too well. He’d have to make sure she heard them often and fix that problem.

As he filled the buckets, she instructed him on how much feed to place in each of the stalls. When she walked away and then nearly topped off two large buckets with water, he set the scoop down. Sure enough, she lifted them without asking for help.

“Here, I’ll carry the water. You dish out the feed.”

She refused to set the buckets down. “No, I do this all the time.” The words were forced out between tight lips.

Not while I’m around, you don’t.

Cassie glared at him when he reached for one of the buckets she held, but she relented and set it down before carrying the other to the opposite end of the shed. Stubborn girl. He picked it up and poured it into Gracie’s water trough.

As they worked together, he learned the names of the other three—Tika, Killa, and Qhawa—all girls, Cassie said. “Unusual names.”

“They are Quechua girl names. Mi mamá is Quechua, a major native population in Peru, descendants of the Incas. Tika means ‘flower.’ I chose it because of her orange-colored fleece. Killa for ‘moon’.” He noticed that one was snow-white. “And Qhawa stands for ‘one who watches or monitors’.” She wrapped her arms around the neck of the last one—a mix of white and tan. “She is very curious, but timid. Is that not right, Qhawa?”

Luke looked into Qhawa’s big brown eyes and sensed the alpaca never missed a thing. She’d been watching him since he’d come inside the shed.

“You’re good at giving your animals meaningful names. When I adopted Picasso, he already had his name. For most of the others, I just named them after some of Maggie’s favorite women painters.” Except for O’Keeffe.

He lifted the bucket and dumped it into her water trough as he glanced back at the pregnant one. “Why doesn’t Gracie have a Quechua name?”

“I gave her a Latin name to honor that part of my heritage.” She left the feed scoop in Qhawa’s bin and walked toward the white and tan, very pregnant alpaca. Cassie buried her face in Gracie’s neck while wrapping her arms around the alpaca. “Graciela means blessing or favor, because she is a gift from the Goddess to help me heal.”

Cassie ended the embrace abruptly without further explanation and returned to the feed bins. Was Cassie sick? She didn’t appear to be. So, did she mean another type of healing? Any fool could see she had a chip on her shoulder when it came to men.

God, he hoped some asshole hadn’t taken advantage of her innocence. Or maybe she was recovering from a traumatic loss. With the anniversary of Maggie’s death coming up in days, he certainly could relate there.

Luke filled two more buckets with water for the last two stalls, trying not to think about this gentle soul from Peru suffering pain of any kind. But he couldn’t shake the feeling that she’d been hurt and hurt badly by some jerk.

Would he ever be able to convince her to confide in him?

“That should take care of them for now.” Cassie clapped the alpaca hair off her hands and waited while he stowed the buckets upside down for tomorrow’s use. He pushed the door open against the ever-present wind and let her precede him into the cold.

As they drew near the cabin door, he pointed to the building down the path to the left. “Is that your studio?”

She only nodded and continued toward the cabin door. Having Cassie let him anywhere near her studio didn’t seem likely in the near future.

* * *

Six nights later, no closer to going home, Luke found himself beside Cassie in the shed again, only this time watching Gracie struggle through another contraction. He placed his hand on her swollen belly, but had no freaking clue what signs to watch for. His SAR training covered the basics of delivering human babies, but nothing about alpacas. He patted the soon-to-be momma’s belly, hoping to reassure and comfort her, to let her know she wasn’t alone in her maiden birth.

“I read up on birthing crias and watched some online videos.” At the sound of Cassie’s voice, Luke turned to the woman who had spoken to him only rarely these past few days. They had shared meals, but the rest of the time she’d escaped to the privacy of her studio, leaving him to fend for himself. He’d managed to split some wood when he didn’t think she’d jump down his throat. Felt good to do something active and try to rebuild his strength after his bout with hypothermia and a possible concussion had left him weaker than a newborn foal.

Cassie stroked the alpaca’s neck, her fingers combing through the soft fleece. Cassie hadn’t let her guard down many times since he came to, but watching her touch the animal with such tenderness broke open a longing inside he’d thought had been buried too deep to surface again.

Not that Cassie would ever touch him that way. More likely he’d receive a kick in the butt to send him on his way down the mountain. She’d been sleeping in the studio the last few days. When she’d come running to tell him about Gracie’s labor, he’d been thrilled to be able to do something for her.

Now he wished she’d ask him to help her with something he could actually do well. If he screwed this up, she’d never forgive him.

“Anything I should be doing on this end, darlin’?”

Cassie’s hand stilled, and he realized she still hadn’t warmed up to his use of one of his favorite endearments. She met his gaze, the wariness blatant in her expression. “They are not like horses or cows.” Damn—she’d gone on the defensive again. “Alpacas need very little assistance when birthing their babies. Most owners just sit back and watch.”

That sounded good to him, especially because he found himself positioned closer to the business end of things than he liked. So why had she come running to him in a panic? Who was she trying to convince this would be a breeze—him or her? Luckily, the mother-to-be seemed calmer than either Luke or Cassie, merely standing and waiting, with an occasional glance behind her when she had a contraction.

Luke wished he had his camera to record the first photos of the baby. The lighting in here would have made for some beautiful shots. Okay, maybe the thought of making some kind of lasting and positive impression on Cassie was part of it, too.

But he hadn’t planned on being stranded up here in an avalanche, so he hadn’t packed anything when he went to Aspen Corners to hang out with friends over a week ago. While he’d finally located his phone in the crashed truck, the charger was stuck in the mangled dash. At least he’d been able to use Cassie’s phone to call his momma, check on his horses again with Matt, and try and figure out what the hell was going on with Marc. The man hadn’t answered his phone for days. Rafe and Matt said Angel told them Marc was doing some deep soul searching. Luke hoped to hell the man found the answers he needed to turn his life around before he lost Angel for good.

But right now, Luke had his own worries.

The small shed was warm and cozy, even though the early May winds continued to howl outside. Luke moved to the spot behind Graciela and saw the bulging sac beginning to emerge. Shouldn’t be long now—at least he hoped not. His gaze wandered to Cassie’s face as she focused on her beloved alpaca. The girl had a sweet spot for Gracie. Didn’t she say this one had been sent to heal her?

Jeezus, don’t let me screw this up.

The soon-to-be momma gave a moan. “Shhh. You are doing fine, Graciela. I will not leave you alone.” The alpaca calmed under Cassie’s gentle touch. The two had some kind of silent connection. When she was near this one, a sense of peace seemed to come over Cassie more so than with the other three. He wished he could have put that expression on her face, but for some reason, he only put this lady on edge.

Another attempt to push left Graciela pacing in the stall. What he thought might be a snout stuck out a tiny hole in the sac, but she had a long way to go before the cria would be on the ground. He walked closer to Cassie, hating it when her hand clenched into a fist. What the hell did she expect him to do to her?

“Any idea how this works?” He left off any endearment, not wanting to push his luck.

“The feet should come out first then the baby’s head. Sometimes the head is first, but that can make for a more difficult birth. Once the head comes out, Graciela will walk around while any amniotic fluids drain from the cria’s mouth.”

Sounded simple enough—a damned sight easier than horses. They moved behind the animal again and watched as the cria’s head crowned.

“Oh, no.”

Luke cast a glance at Cassie, who had a death grip on the towel she’d used to wipe the sweat off Gracie’s neck and belly. He returned his gaze to the alpaca. Where the hell were the cria’s legs. He wished he knew more about what to do. He wondered if the anatomy was all that different from a horse’s. He’d helped deliver a horse once while in 4-H?

Luke stepped closer to the animal and stroked her side, feeling another contraction hit her as she pushed once more, moaning when her effort didn’t seem to progress the birth any. Luke took off his coat and rolled up his sleeves.

“What are you going to do?” Cassie came toward him as if to keep him away from Gracie until she knew of his intentions.

“I’m thinking she might need a little help, this being Gracie’s first baby and all. I’m going to see if I can find the cria’s legs and help this delivery along a bit.”

Cassie remained silent a moment and then nodded. “Do not hurt her.”

“You know I won’t, darl…”

Quit while you’re behind, Denton.

One thing he’d learned from his SAR work—and even his Dominant training with Adam—was to do no harm, so Luke waited for Gracie to work through one more contraction before intervening. No progress. Clearly, she wasn’t going to deliver this cria until the baby was in the right position. Not sure if an alpaca momma’s contraction could crush bones the way a horse’s could, he decided it was now or never and reached into the opening of the birth canal, feeling around until he found what felt like two skinny sticks. He sure hoped he was doing the right thing as he pulled the legs forward until they popped outside the sac. They dangled there a moment before another contraction came, and the baby’s head pushed the rest of the way out.

“Thank you, Goddess. It worked!”

Luke opened the cria’s mouth and let its head hang as fluid seeped from its small mouth. Gracie took to pacing again, and after several more contractions, the cria’s legs were practically touching the ground. He’d never watched an animal give birth standing up before. Horses and alpacas were very different creatures.

“The baby is not moving.”

Luke’s gaze returned to the cria. Shouldn’t it show some effort to be born? He wondered if there might be a problem. Should he help pull the baby out or let nature take its course? He pressed his fingers against the neck, trying to find a pulse. Where the hell were a cria’s pulse points, anyway?

Luke positioned himself at Gracie’s hind legs and watched the miracle of birth unfold before him. True to Cassie’s prediction, Gracie needed no help in doing what came naturally to her.

When the cria slid gently onto the shed’s floor, Luke pulled away the remnants of the sac and glanced up at Cassie feeling like a proud new daddy. Her gaze never left the baby, though. When Cassie’s expression of wonder became one of horror, she turned to Luke, her dark-chocolate eyes pleading as if waiting for him to do something.

His attention returned to the cria. Motionless. Not breathing. Foals usually struggled to their feet within minutes. Was it normal for a baby alpaca to just lie there?

He felt clueless—and helpless.

Cassie handed him a soft cloth and hunkered down beside him, her body warm and trembling.

He took the cloth, opened the cria’s mouth, and cleaned out any fluid, hoping to help it breathe on its own, but still saw no sign of life.

“Por favor, Lucas.”

Dear God, don’t let me fail this girl.

Hearing the desperation in Cassie’s voice—begging for the first thing she’d ever asked of him—he couldn’t let her down if he could help it. But why did she have to ask for the near impossible? Still, his training kicked in. He opened the baby’s mouth and stuck his finger in to check for any remaining mucous. Clear.

“Bring me that flashlight.”

Cassie brought it over and cast its beam down the cria’s gullet. He didn’t see any other obstruction. “Thanks.” Lowering the head to the ground, lining up the spine with the back, he cupped his hands over the cria’s snout and blew as hard as he could. The small chest expanded. He repeated with three more breaths.

He waited for some response. Nothing. “Cassie, compress the cria’s abdomen, alternating with when I breathe. I’ll be doing two breaths then ten compressions. You compress her every time I breathe into her mouth.”

“Okay.” She moved beside him and placed her hands on the baby’s belly, interlocking her hands. Apparently, she had learned CPR.

Good girl.

They worked together until the cria’s front leg kicked. “Did you see that?”

“Yes!”

He hoped it wasn’t some kind of involuntary response. This baby had to live. Cassie would be devastated if they lost her.

They repeated another round. Another kick—definitely a kick this time—and soon all four legs were in motion. Luke let out a whoop and reached out to hug Cassie, who hugged him back. At first, anyway, before she grew stiff. Knowing to let go, he stood, walked around the cria, and helped the little thing to its feet. Luke glanced over the wobbly critter’s back to see tears streaming down Cassie’s face. Her lips trembled with emotion. He wanted to reach out and wrap his arms around her again, to offer her some comfort and support, but didn’t want to push his luck.

“Muchas gracias, Lucas.”

Their gazes met, and she smiled. His name never sounded so good as when he heard it from her lips.

“I think we had some divine intervention.”

“Grace.”

“You got that right.” She’d sure given the momma alpaca the right name.

They both stood staring at the baby for a few minutes. “Have you picked out a name yet?”

Cassie started toward him, but she knelt beside the baby cria, which was now curled in the straw near its momma, and stroked its back. Tears continued to stream unheeded down her cheeks.

Such a gentle soul. Anyone who loved animals as much as she did couldn’t hide behind her gruff façade forever. One of these days, he hoped to see her show that kind of affection toward him. Even though he knew next to nothing about her, he felt a connection with her he hadn’t felt since…well, not in a long time.

“Her name will be Milagrosa.”

“What does it mean?”

Cassie’s gaze returned to Luke’s. “Miracle.”

“Fitting. Perfect.”

Out of the blue, he realized today was the anniversary of Maggie’s death. Sorry, Maggie. He used to mourn for days before and after this anniversary, but with all that had been going on up here, he’d forgotten.

Somehow, though, he looked on this as progress. He didn’t feel as depressed as he had last year at this time. That sketch Cassie had done had allowed him to move on.

Luke hoped God would pull off another miracle and help Cassie to open up to him one of these days. Something told him the two of them would be good together, helping each other heal.

* * *

Cassie stroked Graciela’s neck, hoping to still the shaking inside her stomach that threatened to overwhelm her while Milagrosa nursed on the rich colostrum that would help her fend off disease and grow strong in her first months of life.

When Lucas had wrapped his arms around her, she had been so lost in her exhilaration she hugged him back before coming to her senses. The man brought her cria back to life. Her emotions were jumbled, stretched so thin she had to blink away the tears.

Movement out of the corner of her eye shifted her focus to the man in question, and she watched him stretch out on the straw and place his hand protectively on top of Milagrosa’s belly.

Cassie gave him a sidelong glance, the urge to reach out to him even stronger.

No, Cassie. You’ve trusted the wrong men before.

Pedro had fooled her. He had always being solicitous, especially around her parents, and seemed to care about her, as well. Lucas might be gentle, kind, and almost like another brother, but he was not her brother. She needed to guard herself against becoming too comfortable around him.

Still, he had saved Milagrosa’s life.

“How did you know what to do?”

He glanced at her. “About what?” He didn’t seem to be on the same wavelength as she. What had he been thinking about?

“How to breathe life back into Milagrosa.”

He grinned. “I figured the basic principles of CPR were the same for alpacas as for humans.”

“I would not have been able to think clearly enough to know what to do in that situation. I panicked, but you stayed so calm.”

“Only on the outside, darlin’. I didn’t want you to lose your first cria.” He turned his gaze to the still-nursing baby. “But my SAR training does help me to keep my cool, I guess.”

“I cannot thank you enough.”

He smiled at her. “You already have.”

Cassie didn’t know what he meant, but thought he referred to something more than her words of gratitude.

Hungry herself, Graciela moved to her feed bin. Milagrosa seemed at loose ends and stood on wobbly feet. Cassie and Lucas moved away quickly and stood side by side as they watched the baby cross the stall and seek out her mother’s teat and another meal.

Cassie had never thought much about being a mother, but seeing the two of them warmed something inside her she’d never expected to feel. Not that she’d ever have more than furbabies. Having them would provide her all the maternal satisfaction in her destiny. Well, except when doting on Kitty’s baby.

Two mornings later, her thoughts remained confused. She had not been able to sleep for days and had worked through the night again last night to finish something. She sipped her coffee and stared nervously across the table as Lucas devoured his breakfast. With his appetite so strong again, he would be well enough in no time to head back down the mountain to his ranch.

That was what she wanted, but the thought of him leaving so soon left her feeling…strange. Not the jubilance she once thought she would feel at his leaving. Perhaps the memory of the moment in the shed as she watched him revive her precious Milagrosa clouded her thinking now. Had Mama Quilla brought him into her life at this time so that he could be here to save her cria? She’d found herself less resentful of his presence since then.

But when he left, chances are she would rarely see him. Their relationship would end. No, relationship was too strong a word. Interlude, maybe? No, that sounded too romantic. Their brief time together. Yes, better.

Cassie set her empty mug on the table. “There’s something I would like to show you in my studio sometime today when you have a few minutes.”

He wiped his mouth with his napkin and grinned in her direction. Her stomach flip-flopped. She hoped she was not coming down with something. No time for being sick. She still had to finish a piece for the exhibition next month.

“I’d love to see your studio. Nothing but snow plowing on the agenda today, and I’ll need some breaks.”

He had been doing all kinds of fix-it projects around her cabin and shed, thinking she was not aware of his activities. She could not quite allow herself to smile and hoped she had not made a mistake by inviting him inside such a private place.

But she truly wanted to share with him the piece she had been working on the past few nights and days.

* * *

Luke approached the studio and saw that the door was ajar. No sense actually knocking.

“Knock, knock, darlin’.”

Cassie stood facing an easel, surveying an oil painting of an older couple. Luke hated seeing the stiffness return to her shoulders and back at the sound of his voice, as if steeling herself for an attack. What would make her think he would ever hurt her? He thought they had moved beyond that level of discomfort and distrust after Millie was born.

Give her time.

She had relaxed a lot more than when he’d first come to in the cabin. Cassie had invited him to her studio—finally. That alone spoke volumes in his favor.

Maybe she was in the middle of something and didn’t want to be disturbed. “Sorry, darlin’. I’ll come back la—”

“No, Lucas, stay!” She turned to face him. Her dusky cheeks hinted at a blush. Hard to tell with her skin coloring, but he liked to think he could make the girl blush, whatever the reason. “I…did not hear you come in.”

Oh, yes, you did. He hung his coat and hat and walked toward her. “What are you working on?”

“Actually, I finished it earlier—a portrait of my parents. Just want to make sure it is right before…” She trailed off, and he turned his focus to the piece.

She’d mentioned this piece before. Said it was something she planned to have delivered to Peru. The colorful oil depicted her mother’s bright red headwear suggesting Native origins, but the man was dressed in a black embroidered shirt with a bolo tie, definitely more of a Spanish influence. Something about the man’s green eyes seemed familiar.

The couple’s gnarled hands clasped before them suggested a hard life. They stared out with little emotion.

He didn’t know why, but a sense of sadness in the painting made his eyes sting. His parents had never been particularly demonstrative with each other—with him, either, for that matter—but they loved one another and him, too.

“It’s beautiful.” He cleared his throat of its raspy sound.

She nodded and turned away from him and the easel. With their advanced age in this portrait, surely Cassie wouldn’t refuse to return home to see them every chance she could. Then again, some families became estranged for varied reasons. She seemed adamant about having no desire to return to Peru.

If she wants you to know, she’ll tell you.

Having her allow him to visit her in her studio was enough for now. He glanced around the room while she crossed the room to a cloth-covered canvas.

Clearly, she spent most of her time in here. The cabin was merely functional—cook, eat, sleep, and not much else—but this room had a homey feel to it. The wall of windows likely allowed for natural light much of the day, but it was cold as hell in here. A freestanding, black woodstove occupied the corner opposite the bed, although no fire burned in it now, despite the chill in the room. The girl preferred the cold, although he spotted a space heater near her workspace. She’d need to keep her oils warm enough to work with, for sure. A stained coffeemaker sat on the counter next to the sink.

A futon waited in the corner for those nights when she didn’t want to abandon her work for too long. He sometimes slept in his workshop/studio, too tired to make it back to the house. Lying there next to whatever he was working on often gave him further inspiration.

They were two peas in a pod in that way.

In a corner to his right, he saw what looked like a prayer mat on the floor in front of a low table or stool decorated with plants—bay leaf and fennel, for sure—as well as stones and some type of pagan statue. Probably Peruvian. He smiled at the sense of joy and abandon in the figure.

But the art pieces covering the three walls soon captured his attention, especially one of a native woman with arms upstretched to the moon that hung just beyond the altar area. The vibrancy absent from her house and studio, except in her Indian blankets, reminded him of the underlying passion in the woman he had first noticed at her gallery opening in Denver several months ago. At that exhibition, her work reminded him of Georgia O’Keeffe, but this one had a Lee Bogle feel in some ways, perhaps because the subject appeared to be Native American.

He pointed to what looked to be a depiction of a moon goddess near an altar in the corner. “Did you paint that early in your career?”

She nodded. “I am sure it shows, but she has been with me such a long time that I cannot bear to part with her. Not that anyone would buy that one.”

“Oh, I wasn’t knocking the skill. Just thought perhaps you were emulating someone else’s style on your way to developing your own. I did that a lot, too.”

His gaze strayed once more to the oil painting of her parents. “You’ve matured as an artist with this one.”

She followed his gaze before glancing away. “Thank you.”

Her style had changed with this one, though. He felt a tension not obvious in the others.

Dutiful.

The word rattled around his mind, and he wondered about it a moment before he realized that word described the feeling the picture exuded perfectly. Had she created the portrait out of a sense of duty rather than because her artistic heart had been moved to do so? Had she done it to please and honor her parents than from inspiration?

Guarded.

The painting didn’t express the exuberant emotion he felt in some of her other art such as her moon goddess. True, most of her other pieces showed glimpses of nature, rarely human subjects. Yet the emotion in her flowers and trees was much more evident than in the faces of her parents in this one.

Closed off.

Was it their personalities—or Cassie’s distancing herself from them? “When’s the last time you visited Peru?”

“Five years ago.”

“Do you miss it?”

“No. This is my home now.”

He understood what she meant. “I like it much more here in Colorado, too, than at my old home in Texas. If not for my parents, I’d probably never go back there, either.” But wouldn’t she suffer through a visit to Peru again to see her parents? What kept her away from them?

“So you came to the States to study art at Columbia. Bet there was a great deal of culture shock between Peru and New York City.”

Cassie shrugged. “I enjoyed my time in the city. That is where I met Kitty. I felt…safe there.”

Luke didn’t think he’d ever heard New York described as being safe before, but she didn’t elaborate.

“I invited you here to show you this.” She removed the cloth from the canvas, and Luke positioned himself so he could see what she wanted to reveal.

Wow.

“Me and Millie?”

She nodded and cleared her throat. “I was moved very much by your actions and inspired to create this piece to remember what you did.”

Luke drew closer to the pastel of the newborn cria cradled in his arms. He’d never seen himself depicted in a painting before. The muted pastels cast him in the shadows while a beam of sunlight bathed Millie in brighter, warmer colors.

“It is not much, but I want you to have it, along with my eternal gratitude.”

Luke’s eyes burned. He turned toward her. “You sure you don’t want to keep it? I know I regretted not having a camera to take photos for you to have.”

“No. The image will never leave my mind. I just thought…you might like to see…I mean, well…” She turned away.

“It’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever given me. Thank you, Cassie.”

“No es nada.” She started toward the door, dismissing him. “I should check on Milagrosa and Graciela before I start supper.”

Not so fast, baby girl.

Luke placed his hand on her shoulder, but didn’t grab or force her to stop and turn toward him. When she halted her retreat, he spoke. “Thank you, Cassie. I’ll cherish this forever, just as I will the memory of our delivering our first cria together.”

Cassie stared at him a moment and blinked before she retrieved her poncho from a hook by the door. She turned to him, quirking a brow but not smiling. “Would you like to join me in the shed?”

Luke grinned. “Love to. I feel like a proud godparent. I want to check on Millie, too, and make sure she hasn’t had any setbacks.”

Cassie nodded curtly, covering her head with a wool hat and opening the door to a blast of wind. He pulled his coat closed and turned the collar up to cover his ears as he followed. They ran down the path to the shed, and he helped her close the door behind them, fighting another strong gust.

The alpacas began clicking and bleating as soon as they heard Cassie enter. He smiled, watching the pure joy erupt on her face as she nuzzled Gracie and accepted her adoration.

Surprising him, Gracie broke away from her mistress and moseyed toward him, baby Millie in her wake. The new momma met his gaze, and he could have sworn she conveyed her appreciation to him. If he hadn’t been around his horses so much and seen similar looks in their eyes after months of working hard to give them a sense of peace and security, he might have scoffed at his musings. Instead, he reached out and patted her slim neck.

“’Tweren’t nothin’, little momma. All in a day’s work. Gotta earn my keep with the boss lady.”

“I am not your boss.”

Luke raised his head and met Cassie’s gaze over the backs of the two alpacas. He’d hit a nerve, but she needed to understand his boundaries, too. “Listen, I know it’s hard for you to have me around, but while I’m here, I need to feel useful. Think of me as a temporary hired hand until someone can clear the road and get me off the mountain. It might decrease some of the tension.”

“I am sorry. I will try.”

Gracie nudged his hand, reminding him he was in the middle of petting her. After a few minutes of appeasing the momma alpaca, he returned his gaze to Cassie, who had started the nighttime ritual they’d shared the past few nights. As if she hadn’t had it wrested from her hand every night, she lifted the huge bucket to fill it with fresh water.

“Here, let me do that!”

He rushed over to take the heavy bucket from her, but she glared at him, daring him to try. “I can do this, Lucas Denton. I have been taking care of my animals alone for months. Go back inside before you have a relapse.”

Back off, Denton.

Something else was going on with her tonight. Was it sharing the drawing and her studio with him? Did that make her feel vulnerable and exposed? One thing’s for sure, he wouldn’t endear himself to her by charging in like a stallion. This girl had a serious problem with men. Hell, she didn’t even have any male alpacas.

He let go, and she hefted the bucket until the contents had been emptied into the trough.

“I didn’t say you couldn’t handle it, darlin’. Just that I want to pull my weight around here. After all, you saved my life.”

She didn’t make eye contact, but took the rake and tossed some more straw bedding into Killa’s stall. “You do not owe me anything, Lucas. You saved Milagrosa’s life. We are even. Why do men always think they have to take care of women, as if we cannot survive without them?”

Clearly, she wasn’t too keen on any member of his gender. He’d seen her response to Adam at daVinci’s and at Adam’s house while he was recovering, too. That man raised Cassie’s hackles every time. Was it just resentment toward him for taking her friend away? He didn’t think so.

Suddenly, he realized where he’d seen her father’s eyes before—in Adam Montague’s.

“What’s your father like?” Was he the reason she couldn’t stand men? The man’s eyes in the portrait of her parents were much colder than her momma’s. Some despicable men abused their daughters horribly. Luke always suspected Maggie’s father had molested her, but she never wanted to talk about it.

She spun around to face him. “What?”

“Your father. Did he… Did you get along with him?”

Her eyes shimmered with unshed tears before she glanced away and began petting Killa. Damn. If the man had hurt her, Luke would—

“He was hard working, but is retired now. Honest. Fair. A man of integrity. He is much older than my mother. He does not understand the way the world has changed. He did not understand me. We…became estranged while I was in college.”

It didn’t sound like she was angry at him for abusing her. Was it the age difference between Karla and Adam that set her off around the Marine?

But she wasn’t too fond of men in general. Take Luke. He’d never done anything to hurt her. He’d been extremely careful not to come on too strong, either. After nearly two weeks here, Luke had seen only a few moments when she’d let down her guard and become, well, civil.

Sharing the birth and rescue of the cria should have softened her more. Tonight, though, he was clearly wearing on her nerves. Again. Her mood swings left him dizzy.

Even so, the lady hadn’t taken her Tahoe’s plow blade to the snow mass yet in an effort to try and clear the road faster. Maybe she wasn’t as sick of him as she pretended to be.

He grinned. Could he be wearing down her defenses a little?

After Cassie said goodnight to her alpacas—just short of tucking them into their straw beds—Luke followed her out of the shed, and they hightailed it back to the cabin as the wind bombarded them. How’d she stand living on a mountain pass like this? Luke couldn’t wait to return to his cozy, warm house in the basin below.

He might as well admit he would have nothing more than friendship with Cassie. Even that might be a long shot. The woman preferred isolation. Solitude. Why was it he always chose the ones who didn’t need him?

Luke sighed. He longed for some time with his horses. They loved him unconditionally, needed him to see to their needs, and were learning to trust him. At least he had made some progress with some of them. Unlike Cassie, they liked spending time with him.

God, he hoped his horses wouldn’t fall too far behind in their training and rehabilitation. He’d worked with them day in and day out for months, beginning as soon as each one had arrived at his place. He had no clue what Matt was doing other than meeting their physical needs, but what about their emotional ones?

He needed to go home.

Chapter Four

Luke came out of the alpaca shed late the next morning after hearing the sound of wood being split. Stubborn girl. He charged across the yard and around the side of the cabin to find Cassie with an ax raised with both hands over her head before she brought it down on the wood chisel to split another log.

“Why didn’t you tell me we needed more wood?” Hell, why hadn’t he noticed himself? Wait, he’d checked yesterday, and there was plenty in the mudroom.

Cassie stacked the two new pieces on the sizeable log pile. Had she been at this all morning while mucked out stalls? “I thought we decided that I’d chop the firewood.”

She didn’t make eye contact with him, simply placed another log on the block and set the chisel. She didn’t appear to be in a good mood, so he approached her cautiously—after all, she was armed with an ax. Her eyes were hidden behind her safety glasses.

“Here, you’ve done enough. My turn.” He held out his hand for the ax. She lifted the glasses to the top of her head but only stepped away, glaring at him.

He stood his ground. After a few rapid breaths, she turned it over to him along with the glasses and went to work picking up the wood she’d already chopped, placing it in a cart. The woman didn’t seem to know how to let anyone help. But at least that job was less strenuous. Now that he was feeling stronger, he wanted to step up to the plate and help out more around here.

They worked side by side for a while. He wouldn’t admit how exhausted this chore left him, not after making such a big deal that it was man’s work. He’d worked up a good sweat, his arms and back screaming from overexertion when Cassie screamed, “Milagrosa! What are you doing out here?”

Luke turned to see the baby cria slipping in the snow near the Tahoe. Damn it. Hadn’t he shut the door? A moment later, Gracie came into view in search of her little one. Luke buried the ax in the log he’d been about to split, grabbed Gracie’s halter, and ran to the shed to stem the flow of alpacas before any more escaped. Cassie led the baby inside right behind him and Gracie.

He breathed a sigh of relief until her heard the worried tone in Cassie’s voice. “Where is Tika?”

Luke glanced around counting heads and saw only three adults and Millie. Sonuva… “I’ll find her.”

He headed outside the shed, checking to make sure he had his flashlight in his coat pocket, when a blast of frigid air hit him in the face. He followed one set of larger hooves, but quickly realized those were Gracie’s. Going back to the doorway, he spotted another set of tracks heading to the left and followed them around the shed where it disappeared into a stand of aspens. No Tika in sight. How far could an alpaca go? Hell, they were pack animals that loved the mountains. Shit.

He increased his pace, slipping a few times but managing to stay upright as he made his way through the trees. When the wind picked up again, he buttoned his sheepskin collar around his neck. How long ago had Tika left the outbuilding? They’d been splitting and stacking wood for at least half an hour. He’d never seen her alpacas outside once. Maybe Cassie should have given them some time to wander around outdoors so they wouldn’t bolt at the first opportunity. Did she have a pen for them? Maybe he could build her one while he was here if she had any supplies. If not, he could come back and do so this summer.

Right now, though, he needed to find her missing baby.

“Tika!” Did they know their names enough to come when he called? He continued to follow the tracks down the steep mountain, sliding onto his ass on the cold, wet ground at one point. The sun was about to set. He didn’t think the animal had wandered that far away when he started off, but she must have bolted the minute he went outside. Or she was managing to stay upright a lot better than he was.

He began shivering from his wet jeans. Would the animal be able to handle nighttime temperatures out here if he couldn’t follow the tracks with his flashlight? Cassie hadn’t shorn the animals yet, so the fleece should be thick enough to keep Tika warm. But how pampered were her alpacas? Heated shed and water troughs. He had no clue if their instincts for survival were still intact.

He switched on the flashlight and kept going another half hour. Almost impossible to follow the tracks now. Just when he was ready to turn back, he heard a familiar humming. “Tika!” He muttered under his breath at first then yelled louder. He couldn’t make her out in the twilight, but followed the sound until he rounded a stand of spruce trees. There she stood, tangled in some briars. He expelled a pent-up breath and ran over to her.

He set down the light and, with his suede-gloved hands, worked to clear away the brambles from the animal’s now-matted fleece. It was hard to see anything because the moon hadn’t risen yet. He wasn’t even sure there would be enough of a moon tonight to provide any light.

“Hang on, baby girl. I’ll have you out of here in no time.”

The animal’s cries tore at his heart. She’d need some first-aid to salve her cuts once they made it back to the outbuilding. Another bout of shivers tore through him. Damn, it was cold. Finally, he managed to free her, grabbed her rope halter, and started to lead her back home to her worried momma.

At least he’d found her before a bear, puma, or some other predator had. He’d never forgive himself if…

Luke lost his footing on another icy patch in the dark. In no time flat, his feet went out from under him, and he hit the ground with a grunt, banging the back of his head as he knocked his Stetson over his face. Dazed, he climbed to all fours and tried to shake off a wave of dizziness, but the movement only made him feel worse. His stomach roiled and convulsed in dry heaves.

Damn it all. Fighting the shivers even worse, he struggled to his feet. Holding onto the alpaca’s halter again, he leaned over to pick up his hat. He idly wondered if the alpaca could carry him on her back, but couldn’t trust Tika to go straight home without being led. She hadn’t seemed able to find her way back earlier.

The ground dipped and swayed as he tried to remain upright. Maybe if he hadn’t been showing off his he-man skills for half an hour chopping wood, he wouldn’t be so damned weak right now.

What choice did he have? He’d never ridden an alpaca before, but he didn’t have the strength to make it back up this mountain under his own steam.

Luke searched for a rock or boulder to act as a mounting stool. He clicked his tongue, led the alpaca to one nearby, and stood on it while lining up Tika. Almost there. He swung his leg over the animal’s back, but apparently, Cassie’s alpacas weren’t used to being ridden. The skittish beast bolted, and Luke lost his balance. Once more, the ground rushed toward him, and he impacted it with a grunt.

The night grew blacker as he closed his eyes.

* * *

Cassie settled the rest of the alpacas into their stalls as best she could, but they were agitated and knew something was wrong. What was taking Lucas so long? How far could Tika have strayed?

Sensing he was in trouble, she made her way back to the cabin to gather supplies. She’d have to take a lantern to be able to follow their tracks. She did not think he had a flashlight with him. How would he be able to see in the new moon’s darkness? What if he was injured? He was barely recovered from the avalanche. Why had she not gone with him? But he had taken off so quickly. She had been trying to get Graciela and Milagrosa back into their stall when she turned and watched him sprint out the door of the shed.

In the mudroom, she grabbed rope and a wool blanket, and stuffed them into a backpack. The last rays of sunlight had long since faded by the time she started across the yard and around the shed, the glow from the lantern showing her the direction in which the hooves and boots were headed. She saw a spot where the man’s boots had slipped, but he didn’t seem to have fallen.

Thirty minutes later and still no sign of either of them. Were they together or was Lucas still tracking her wayward baby?

Her legs ached, and weariness set in as she trudged through the snow. She hadn’t been sleeping more than a couple of hours a night out in her studio. Why she let Lucas’s presence affect her like this, she did not know. Just having him on her mountain had left her feeling…unsettled.

Frustration set in. “Tika! Lucas! Where are you?”

The wind whistled through the spruce trees, but she heard no response. What if she could not find them or became lost herself? No, she knew these mountains like the back of her hand. All she had to do was continue to follow their tracks in the snow.

Rounding the curve of the mountain, a large shape loomed. Her heart stopped a moment until she saw the animal’s long neck, and she relaxed. “Tika! You are okay, you naughty girl!”

She nearly giggled as she ran toward the alpaca, surprised when the animal did not come to meet her. As Cassie grew closer, she saw another dark form, this one lying in the snow at the alpaca’s hooves.

“Lucas!” Her heart jumped into her throat as she bent down to his still form.

Please don’t let him be dead.

She felt for a pulse in his neck and was relieved to feel a steady, but weak, one. His head must have hit that rock when he fell. His Stetson was lying upturned nearby on the ground. How long had he been exposed to the elements here?

“Lucas, look at me. Please, open your eyes.”

No response. She did not know if she should move him, but letting him lie here in the snow was not going to keep hypothermia—or death—at bay. Pulling the blanket from her backpack, she lifted his head and placed it between the back of his head and the ground. How was she going to carry him up the mountain? He was dead weight.

His body began shivering.

Not again.

She had her cell phone with her, but waiting for help, assuming anyone could find them, would only increase the chance of him dying on the mountainside. Taking the rope, she worked a lasso around his chest, under his armpits, and faced Tika.

“Girl, you need to help me. Down on your belly.”

The alpaca stared blankly at her until she tapped the backs of the animal’s knees. Tika lowered herself to the ground, tucking her front legs underneath her, awaiting her precious cargo. Despite a burst of adrenaline, Cassie tugged at the rope, but he still didn’t budge.

Tears of frustration wet her eyes. “Lucas, you have to help me. I cannot do this alone.”

She tugged again, and he grunted. The shivering grew worse, but he seemed to become semi-conscious. “I want you to crawl onto Tika’s back. Please, Lucas. Help me here.”

“…throw…me.”

“Come. Tika is waiting for you.” She placed the blanket that had been under his head over the alpaca’s matted coat and then wrapped her arms underneath Lucas’s chest and pulled upward, surprised that he seemed to help by crawling partway onto Tika’s back. She shoved his backside, and he plopped belly side down onto the alpaca with a grunt. Tika stood and waited for further instructions. Between the blanket and Tika’s body, he should warm up quickly.

“Good girl.” Cassie snatched the ends of the rope from around him and tied them under the patient animal’s belly. Satisfied that he was secured, she tugged at the halter. Soon they were headed back toward the cabin.

“Please let him be okay, Goddess.” She hoped the Universe would hear and answer her plea.

Earlier, she had been so angry at his carelessness for leaving the shed door open, but that he would sacrifice himself to save one of her alpacas warmed a cold place in her heart. The man had done nothing but try to help her as soon as he was strong enough, but she had shown very little gratitude for all he had tried to do.

Guilt over snapping at him the night she had shown him the painting of him washed over her. She had painted the picture from the depths of her soul, gratitude for a man—a man—who had saved her cria’s life when Cassie would have failed Gracie.

She owed him, but he was still a man. Dangerous. Why was he making her feel something for him, knocking her off kilter?

What might he ask for in return? All men expected to be repaid, after all. Could she afford his price?

Then again, they had reciprocity. She had saved him, and he had saved Milagrosa. They were even.

“Lucas, you had better not die on me. I do not need that karma and…” Be gracious. This isn’t about you. The man had been injured trying to save one of her babies. The least she could do was be—honest. “I like having you here, Lucas.” Please do not die. “We will soon be back at the cabin.”

Cassie kept up a steady conversation as she continued up the mountain, one hand on the lantern held high above her head to illuminate as much of the surrounding area as possible. Her other hand remained tightly wrapped around the alpaca’s halter. She glanced back often to make sure Lucas was not slipping off Tika’s back.

“Hang on.”

The hillside grew steep just before they reached the aspen grove.

“Please, Goddess, keep my feet steady and sure,” she chanted over and over.

She increased their pace at the top of the hill. “Almost home, Lucas.” She doubted he heard her, but talking to him made her feel less alone. As they entered the yard, she breathed a sigh of relief. She led Tika inside the warm shed, out of the wind and elements. Cassie stood beside Lucas’s head, crouching to see if he would make eye contact and touching his face. No response.

“Lucas, can you hear me?”

Unlike the time she had pulled him from the truck after the avalanche, she received no response at all, just more shivers. If he did not come to, she would never be able to haul him inside the cabin. Seeing the fresh straw he had placed in Tika’s stall earlier, she made a decision.

“You redeemed yourself by bringing him home, Tika, but you are going to have to double up in Killa’s stall tonight, because Lucas will be sleeping in yours.”

Leading the animal to the stall, she loosened the ropes that held Lucas onto the animal’s back. She tapped the backs of Tika’s front knees again and held out Lucas’s legs while the alpaca lowered her front half to the ground. She kept her hind end up until Cassie could slide Lucas onto the straw without crushing his hands underneath the animal. Free of her burden, Tika stood, and Cassie removed the blanket from the alpaca’s back to spread it out on the straw.

After leading Tika to Killa’s stall, Cassie ran to the house for more blankets and some pillows. Apparently, she would be sharing a bed of sorts with Lucas again. She would also need the hot-water bottle because the shed did not have enough heat. Then again, perhaps she could have some of the alpacas provide warmth around them if she brought them close enough in the stall.

By now, Cassie knew the drill for treating hypothermia. Did he have a concussion again? The road was no closer to being passable. She’d heard Angelina’s brothers working on it from the other side the past two days, but it could take another week to clear it. If not, she would have to let Eduardo know not to come for his visit.

She would have to strip both Lucas and herself again to provide skin-to-skin warmth as she had done before. This was going to be another long, sleepless night.

Piled high with her first load of supplies, she entered the shed and dumped them beside Lucas’s shivering body. She needed to return to the cabin for more, but first, she layered several blankets over him. She would not remove any of his clothing until she had everything in place.

In the kitchen, she filled the rubber bottle with hot tap water, put in the stopper, and ran back to the shed. She should have everything necessary now.

Kneeling beside Lucas, she tucked the hot-water bottle between the layers of blankets low on his chest. Turning away, she removed her poncho before unbuttoning her shirt and taking it off. Sitting on a nearby stool, she took off her boots. Her jeans followed. Stripped to her bra and panties, she surveyed the unconscious man and reached for his boots. As soon as he was out of his wet clothes, she could begin warming his body. After two bouts of hypothermia and head wounds so close to one another, she wondered if she needed to do something more this time, but there was no time to call anyone. What could they do? He had been unconscious for an unknown amount of time, and she did not want him to sink any deeper.

At least he was still shivering. Did that mean he was not in a coma? She peeled off his jeans, leaving his boxers, and unbuttoned his shirt. She rolled him from side to side until she removed it, then moved the hot-water bottle to a spot lower on his trunk. Sweating from the exertion, when she lay down beside him, the chill from his body sent her into a rare fit of tremors, too. Not wanting to deprive him of even an inch of body heat, she unhooked her bra and tossed it aside, followed by her panties. Feeling his damp boxers against her skin, soaking wet from melted snow, she realized she would have to remove them, as well.

Kneeling beside him, she hooked her fingers inside his waistband and pulled down, closing her eyes to avoid seeing his privates. Surprisingly, she was more embarrassed than repulsed at the thought. Of course, the man was unconscious and posed no physical threat to her. Not at the moment, anyway.

Stretched out beside him again, skin to skin, she pulled the blankets over them both and formed a cocoon of warmth with their bodies and the water bottle.

He groaned and pulled her closer. Unlike the first time they had been this close, she did not worry that he might hurt her. Lucas Denton was a gentle soul. He had risked his life for a defenseless animal. How could she fear someone with a kind heart like that? He would never do anything to hurt her or her animals.

She blinked in wonder. How had he wiggled his way into her life so quickly?

Suddenly, he became agitated and pulled away, shouting, “Tika!”

“Shhh, Lucas.” Tika responded with a hum from the other end of the shed. Cassie stroked his bare chest, her finger rubbing over his hard nipple inadvertently before she pulled her hand back to the center of his chest, which seemed safer. “She is okay. You found her in time. Everyone is safe at home now.”

He said nothing more, simply relaxed against the blanket-covered straw while pulling her closer to his body. His heartbeat increased a bit before he relaxed and fell asleep. At least he had tried to fight his way back to the present. She felt more confident he would recover as soon as his body temperature rose. She would try to wake him periodically as she had been instructed after the avalanche.

Tucking her head into the crook of his arm, Cassie pressed her face against his chest. So exhausted, or perhaps the adrenaline rush had subsided. Maybe she would rest a bit, too. There was nothing she could do now other than stay close to his body and keep him warm. She would need her strength and stamina for when he came out of this stage of hypothermia. Once he woke, they could go inside where she might better be able to keep him warm. Perhaps by the fireplace, now that the blower worked.

“Thank you for fixing my fireplace. And for all the other things you have been doing around here. I know I do not always show it, but sometimes it is nice to have someone around to help.”

He grunted as if in agreement. Her hand paused, and she lifted her head to look at his face to see if he had heard the thoughts she probably should have kept to herself. But his steady breathing convinced her he slept soundly. That was not right, though. Tomorrow, she would acknowledge all he had done and how much she appreciated him.

Cassie settled back into his arms.

Sleep now. I can worry about all these things tomorrow.

* * *

The throbbing in his temples nagged him without any let up. He tried to roll onto his side, but a weight on his chest made movement nearly impossible. He opened his eyes and blinked several times to adjust to the low lighting. Silky, black hair.

Cassie? He was in bed with Cassie again?

Hot damn. This was a habit he could get used to fast.

His grin faded with a stab of pain to his temple. Jeezus. What the hell had hit him?

Something stirred beside him, and he turned to find a hairy beast curled up on his other side. One of Cassie’s alpacas. He couldn’t tell which one in this lighting, but clearly, they were in the shed, not Cassie’s bed.

What the hell?

Still, Cassie was in his arms for some reason. Moving his hand down her back—her very bare back—he became even more confused. While waking a few moments ago to find her on top of him was any man’s dream, what had prompted Cassie to strip down and curl up with him like this? A shiver wracked his body, and the image of Tika in the snow flashed through his head. He had no memory of making it back to Cassie’s, though.

He felt as weak as a newborn kitten. Hell, some rescuer he was. Couldn’t even bring a stray alpaca home safely. Even if he wanted to, he wouldn’t be able to muster the strength to sit up.

Cassie. Stretched out on top of him, she had sandwiched one of her legs between his. Thankfully, his cock behaved. Right now, he simply wanted to hold her this way, before she awoke and hightailed it away from him again.

Luke adjusted the blanket over her and wrapped both arms around her to keep her warm—and close. Exhaustion won out even with that minimal amount of movement, and soon he drifted off to sleep again…

“Why, Pedro?”

Luke awoke to Cassie pushing away from him and onto her side, but her eyes remained closed. Pre-dawn light filtered through the window.

Who the hell was Pedro? He didn’t particularly like the idea of her lying next to him while dreaming about another man, although he’d have been surprised as hell if those dreams were about him.

“It’s Luke, darlin’.” He stroked her hair, figuring that would freak her out less than if he touched her bare back. Having just had her breasts brushing up against his chest as she scooted off him stirred his cock to life.

“Hold me, por favor.”

With pleasure, darlin’.

Even if dreaming about another guy, she was in his arms now. Cassie calmed down as soon as he wrapped his arms around her and promptly fell back to sleep. He held on to her like that so long his hands fell asleep, too. Despite wanting to treasure this moment forever, after a while he couldn’t keep his eyelids from drooping…

“Nooooo! Get off me!”

Cassie’s screams and her fists pounding against his chest woke him again. Daylight streamed through the only window in the shed. Her eyes were closed still. She must have been exhausted, too, to have slept this long. Maybe she hadn’t been sleeping out in the studio, but staying up at night working instead.

Somehow in his sleep he’d rolled to where she was half underneath him, and now she fought and clawed at him.

Luke attempted to kneel, but his arms and legs wouldn’t cooperate. What was wrong with him? A sound behind him made him try to turn, but before he could maneuver around to see what it was, two hands grabbed him by the ears and pulled him off Cassie.

Fuck! He needed to protect her from whoever was trying to get to her but could barely stand upright. So damned weak.

The man—definitely a man—grunted when Luke tried to grind the heel of his foot into his groin, but that only made the attacker angrier. He locked Luke’s elbows and yanked them back with a pop, nearly dislocating his shoulders.

“Cassie, run to the cabin and lock the door!”

She opened her eyes and stared up at the man somewhere behind Luke.

“No! Stop! It is not what you think!”

He had no clue if she was yelling at him or the attacker. “Just run, damn it!” Why didn’t she just do as he said? He couldn’t fight this bastard off to protect her. If anything happened to Cassie…

Fearing for her safety, he pulled from some reserve deep within and elbowed the man in the gut. The resounding grunt told him he’d found his mark. But when he tried to take a backward swing at the intruder, Luke lost his balance and fell over. Damn. On all fours, he gasped for breath and the strength to attack. Could he take advantage of his position and charge at the man to knock him over? His head swam, but he prepared to do that when Cassie’s shout stopped him cold.

“Stop! Lucas, he is my brother!”

What? Luke peered at the man and saw the familiar Latino features. Shit. He’d tried to take down her brother. Having no strength left once the adrenaline rush left him, Luke collapsed to the ground. Cassie took the end of the blanket he was lying on and tossed it over his naked ass.

Some first impression he’d made on her family.

Cassie rushed to hide her nakedness in her poncho before she came over and knelt next to her brother. The man didn’t seem too worse for wear, just winded. Good thing he wasn’t trying to do Cassie harm, because Luke wouldn’t have been able to protect her in his current physical state.

The thought of someone hurting her twisted Luke’s gut.

“Wait for me in the cabin, Eduardo.”

“You are coming with me.”

“I need to see to Lucas.”

Luke stood, his fist holding the blanket around his lower half, and tried to show he didn’t need her taking care of him. He squared his shoulders and stared at her brother for a long, tense moment. Eduardo glared back.

“Men!” Cassie growled and swung around, her hair flying, before leaving the two men to their pissing match in the shed.

Yeah, it was kind of funny now that he thought about it. Luke grinned and held his hand out to her brother. “I’m Lucas…Luke Denton. Nice to meet you.”

When her brother didn’t shake hands, Luke shook his head and reached for his denim shirt on a bail of straw near where he and Cassie had spent the night. Better not press his luck.

Not that his luck had been all that great lately.

Hell, he was just trying to help. First to rescue Tika—and now Cassie when he thought the man was a threat. Obviously, she didn’t need rescuing from her own brother.

Epic fumble, Denton.

* * *

Cassie sped along the slippery path to the cabin to escape the explosion of testosterone in the shed. What was Eduardo doing here so early? He had said he would not arrive for at least another week, after the last of his conferences. How did he make it past the snowpack covering her road?

Eduardo caught up with her halfway to the cabin and reverted to Spanish. “I thought he was attacking you. You screamed for him to get off you.”

Cassie had no memory of screaming anything or even that Lucas had been on top of her. Her face grew warm with embarrassment. She’d gone from the throes of one of her night terrors to finding Eduardo attacking Lucas.

Please, Goddess, save me from macho men.

“I was having a nightmare.”

Strange, however, because at one point in her dream, she thought she watched as Lucas fought Pedro off her. She’d never deviated from the actual rape memories before. And then Lucas had held her so tenderly. Even in the fog lingering from the dream, Lucas’s hands had been different from any other man’s. Gentle, loving, protective.

Giving, not taking. For the first time since the rape, she had felt safe with a man—until Diego’s face entered the nightmare.

She blinked away that man’s evil visage, her head no longer fuzzy from her deep sleep and confusing dreams. Thankfully, Lucas had stayed behind in the shed until she could clarify this situation to Eduardo without distractions.

Cassie could well imagine what Eduardo thought about finding the two of them entangled in each other’s naked bodies.

Eduardo continued to struggle for composure. “Who is this man—Luke Denton?”

Lucas must have introduced himself. Such a gentleman. This would all be comical if she did not know how her brother’s machismo could make things very uncomfortable during this visit. So how to explain the man who invaded her cabin nearly two weeks ago?

“He became stranded here in the avalanche.” She narrowed her gaze at him.

“What was he doing up here with you—alone?”

“No, it wasn’t like that. He actually was nearly killed by the avalanche when he followed me home to make sure I arrived safely. I have been nursing him back to health.”

Eduardo touched his side where Lucas had elbowed him. “He does not seem all that weak to me. And what were you doing naked with him?”

She shared what had happened when he had gone after Tika, but her brother seemed skeptical. Perhaps if she changed the subject. “How did you get through? It will take at least another week to clear my road.”

“I hiked my way around the mountain.” Pointing in the direction of the shed, he added, “He could have left…if he had wanted to.” Eduardo’s intense stare made her uncomfortable enough to turn away. She and Lucas really hadn’t made clearing the road a high priority. The slightest exertions seemed to wipe out what little strength he had mustered, even before this latest setback. Of course, he served on the mountain rescue squad in their village and had been here to see her several times over the years. Still, she felt compelled to defend Lucas.

“He did not grow up in the Andes at these altitudes and temperatures. But he also has suffered two possible concussions and hypothermia since he has been here.”

Eduardo rubbed his abdomen. “He seems strong enough to me.”

Cassie marveled that Lucas would even attempt to protect her in his weakened condition. No one had ever come to her defense at potential risk to himself. His actions created feelings in her that…she did not wish to explore at the moment.

Opening the front door to the mudroom, she gestured for him to enter, but he insisted she go first. Eduardo’s backpack sat next to the door, so he must have come inside before he went in search of her in the shed.

In the living room, she gestured toward the loveseat. “Please sit down. Would you like some coffee?”

“Sí.” He went to the fireplace to start a fire instead. His thick hair and dark brown skin showed off his Quechua roots. She wished she had taken more after their mother, too. She loved her Spanish heritage and olive coloring, but Eduardo’s features were much more…classic.

She escaped to the kitchen, hoping to postpone the inevitable interrogation to follow. Eduardo could be worse than having to face her papá, perhaps because he knew enough about American ways to think the worst of her.

She had never told her family what really had happened the night she had come home in the wee hours and had avoided her family for days while nursing her wounds in her room. Even though Eduardo had a wife and son at the time, Papá and Mamá had told him about her being out all night with Pedro. They blamed Eduardo for her newfound American morals because he had been the one to talk his parents into allowing her to go to uni.

Eduardo had shown up in her bedroom demanding that she marry Pedro sooner rather than later so as not to shame the family with her “New York” behavior. He chastised her for not respecting her parents enough to leave her lewd behavior behind when she visited Peru. Clearly, he assumed she had slept with Pedro—willingly.

Yet she had remained silent. Two days later, she announced that the engagement was off and she would be returning to New York early. Even without a place to stay until she could move back onto campus, all that mattered was being as far from Pedro, Luis, and most especially Diego, as possible.

Papá had been so upset he had not even said goodbye. However, Eduardo’s accusations had driven a wedge between the once-close siblings.

Sometimes she wished she had called Diego’s bluff and told her parents what had truly happened that night, but she had not been thinking clearly at the time. She only knew she needed to escape the hurt and pain. The shame of having put herself in such a situation as to be raped.

Only, the hurt and pain had hounded her every day since.

Cassie returned to the living room a few minutes later with a mug of coffee and placed it on the coffee table. “I need to go check on Lucas.”

“Who is he to you, Casandra?”

Here we go again. “Lucas is an acquaintance. A fellow artist. I ran into him recently in Aspen Corners while visiting a mutual friend.” Do not mention you were in a bar. “He followed me home to make sure I arrived safely. That is all there is to it.”

Eduardo made a fist at his side before reaching for the mug. “I found you naked with him lying on top of you. Let me ask another way. What kind of relationship do you have with him? Tell me truthfully.”

“I am being truthful! I hardly know him.” The censure in his eyes told her he did not believe her to be telling the truth. She could not blame him on the face of things. Before this spiraled out of control, as it could with Eduardo, she explained further. “His truck was hit by the avalanche that closed my road. He was injured and needed my help. Why are you not listening to me?”

“Why would you let a stranger follow you home?”

“I did not even know he followed me until our mutual friend called asking about him after the avalanche. I guess he was worried about me living alone up here. Maybe he has some of your machismo.” Goddess, I hope not. Eduardo and Papá were bad enough.

“Or perhaps he had something else on his mind.”

Cassie found herself wanting to defend Lucas who had never done anything to so much as suggest ulterior motives. “I swear to you, he has been recuperating ever since the accident. As soon as we clear the road, he plans to return to his ranch and horses.”

Eduardo scrutinized her. “I thought you said he was an artist.”

She sighed. “He is an artist by trade but also adopts and rehabilitates abused wild horses at his ranch sanctuary.”

Eduardo took a tentative sip, apparently mulling over what she had told him. After a moment, he set the mug on the table again. “Did he touch you, other than what I saw for myself?”

Not before I touched him.

Her face grew warm thinking about how her fingers had caressed his pecs and nipple last night while he was unconscious. Perhaps that’s what had sparked the sensory memory of having his arms around her when she woke. The reason her nipples had responded without physical contact of any kind to his close proximity. No, best not to mention that part.

Too late. Eduardo began breathing in short bursts. He was psychic, even if he chose not to hone his skills. Had he tuned in on her thoughts? She hoped not. Perhaps he’d only jumped to conclusions again.

Ignoring his agitation, she continued the story the way she wanted it told. The truth. Reality. Not the distorted happenings from her dream state. “Yesterday, one of my alpacas ran away from the shed. Lucas was injured again trying to find her. I was trying to warm his body. He blacked out. Too heavy to carry to the cabin, I chose to stay with him in the shed where it was warm.”

“That does not explain what you were doing lying naked with him today. Did you have sex with him?”

“No! It is not like that, Eduardo.” Frustrated with his one-track mind, she stood. She needed to check on Lucas, but tried once more to explain things to her brother. “He had hypothermia again. I was just trying to raise his body temperature. You know I would never be with a man in that way unless we were married.” Let him think she was honoring her upbringing and not that she had an aversion to men. She never gave them what they wanted. They took it by force.

He narrowed his gaze. “Why have you put yourself in a situation where a man—a stranger you hardly know—can misinterpret your intentions, pequeña?”

Shame poured over her like a bucket of ice-cold water. No! She had no reason to be ashamed. Nothing had happened between her and Lucas. How could she, a grown woman who had lived on her own for many years, let her brother and his code of machismo reduce her to childhood guilt again?

“I am not under your protection, Eduardo. We are not in Peru.”

Still, the censure in his words told her he would never understand what had happened between her and Lucas, much less what the men in the Lima cantina had done to her. Not that he would ever know. Good girls did not go to cantinas with men, not even their fiancés.

Eduardo searched her face until shame once again forced her to cast her gaze away. The memory of so many hands touching her, forcing her, made her skin crawl. She closed her eyes and swallowed hard.

“Excuse me.” She needed to check on Lucas—and escape her brother. She wondered how long Eduardo would stay. She hoped it would not be long. Despite anticipating his visit for months, craving news of their family, and hoping to rekindle what she and her brother had once had as children, his presence brought back too many sad memories.

Before she reached the mudroom, the outside door opened. The concern on Lucas’s face when he homed in on her made her feel…cherished.

No. The heat rising in her face and the way her heart pounded made her feel decidedly uncomfortable.

She didn’t want Eduardo to read anything into Lucas’s worried expression, but cringed when he walked up to her. “You okay, Sweet Pea?” His words were barely a whisper, but she feared Eduardo would hear them and jump to the wrong conclusion again.

Nodding, she ignored her brother and did not make eye contact with Lucas. “I am fine. I need to prepare dinner.” She walked toward the kitchen and away from both men.

* * *

Luke had sensed the tension between Cassie and her brother the moment he entered the cabin. Maybe they weren’t all that close to start with. Luke had no experience with being a sibling, although he had two friends—Marc and Angel—who were what he imagined having a sister or brother would be like.

But Cassie? Well, his hormones fired on all cylinders whenever he was around her—or pressed against her. Luke wondered if he could settle with just being friends with her. Friends. No benefits. Sure he could.

He hated seeing Cassie hurting—and she was downright miserable right now. Strain around her mouth told him she probably wished both of them were out of her home at the moment.

Fighting a headache and extreme lethargy from the events since he’d set out for Tika yesterday, Luke went into the bathroom to clean up. He didn’t have anything but the clothes he’d worn the day of the accident. While damp from his trek in the snow yesterday, they were drying fast enough against his skin. No way would he take them off. Last thing Cassie needed was for him to be running around here in his underwear again while she tried to convince her brother they didn’t have an intimate relationship.

Half an hour later, after he’d warmed himself some more by the fire and wondering if he’d ever stop shivering, the three sat down at her small kitchen table. Cassie sat on the long side between the two men. He noticed she’d found a pair of pants at some point after she’d come back inside. Must be awkward to have your brother see you naked. He bet she’d had to do some explaining. He hoped the man hadn’t been too hard on her but figured he might feel a little overprotective if he’d just found his little sister in a bed of sorts with a man.

Maybe they could find something to talk about besides what did or didn’t happen between him and Cassie. “Eduardo, what is it you do back home?”

“I’m a seismic geoscientist.” His terse response didn’t make Luke particularly want to know more, but he needed to cut the tension in here.

“So you study earthquakes?”

“Mostly the faults that lead to earthquakes, but also volcanic activity.” Something must have broken loose in the man because he then spent the next fifteen minutes discussing the likelihood of earthquakes hitting Peru and California. He’d just come from one conference in Seattle where he’d presented on volcanic seismic activity along the Ring of Fire. To hear him talk, the whole Pacific Rim was about to blow. Good thing Luke lived here in Colorado just in case he was right.

Next week, Eduardo said he would be speaking at a university conference in California. He must be some kind of international expert. Impressive.

“When I heard there had been an avalanche on Cassie’s mountain, I decided to check on her between my two conferences rather than after the last one as planned.”

“You could have called.” Cassie hadn’t said much until now, but her mood hadn’t improved.

“I tried, but there was no answer.”

She furrowed her brow at first. “Oh! I received a couple of missed calls with an area code I didn’t recognize, but there was no message so I assumed they were telemarketers.”

Eduardo shrugged and went back to eating, but Cassie had barely touched her meal. Luke removed the spoon from her hand and scooped up some soup. “Open wide.”

“I do not need you to feed me, Lucas.”

“I won’t if you feed yourself.” He placed the spoon back in her bowl and stared pointedly at her until she picked it up and began eating. She was way too thin from what he’d seen after she’d removed that damned bulky poncho and gone skin to skin with him in the shed.

Satisfied she would continue to eat, Luke turned his attention back to her brother, who scrutinized him more closely for some reason.

After she’d taken a few bites, he asked her, “So it was just the two of you as siblings?” Eduardo nodded. “I was an only child, but my wife was one of five. They drifted apart when she left home after college.” Okay, Luke was rambling, but he didn’t know what else to talk about. Obviously, the two of them weren’t going to talk to each other, and he only knew so much about earthquakes and volcanoes.

Cassie kept her gaze on her bowl and whispered, “That happens sometimes between siblings.” She glanced at her brother with longing before focusing on her soup again.

Clearly, something had caused the two to drift apart even before Eduardo had arrived on her doorstep. Why was her brother giving her a hard time for helping him recover from hypothermia? Hell, she’d rescued him—twice. While their sibling relationship problems were none of his concern, he hated seeing the yearning for acceptance and love just now in Cassie’s eyes. Apparently, she hoped in vain for something her brother couldn’t—or wouldn’t—give her.

Was he the reason Cassie didn’t want to visit her homeland again?

Luke kept Eduardo talking while surreptitiously watching Cassie empty her bowl.

Good girl.

The two siblings maintained their silence, but after a few more minutes, Luke’s curiosity took over. To no one in particular, he said, “Tell me what it was like growing up in Peru. Sounds exotic.”

* * *

Cassie smiled at Lucas. “Peru and the Andes in particular are very beautiful. The mountains are higher than here. That is probably the only thing exotic about the place. Where we lived, there were mostly miners—all men—and the women were domestics who worked for the mine owners or wives and mothers taking care of their own households.” She shrugged. “Not very exotic, I am afraid. Our father owned one of the smaller mines, but he is retired now. Mamá, who is Quechua—a member of a local native tribe—kept house for our family. She also performed shamanistic ceremonies for anyone interested in the old ways.”

“Shaman like the Native American healers?” Luke asked. Cassie nodded. “Perhaps you have some of your mother’s healing ways about you.”

Before she could negate his words, Eduardo interrupted. For a moment, she had forgotten he was here. “Casandra was raised Roman Catholic, the same as I.” Eduardo did not embrace his Quechua background.

But then Eduardo surprised her. “Cassie is a healer. She saved my life her last winter at home.” Eduardo had never acknowledged her helping him overcome the unexplained fever the month before the rape.

Lucas smiled at her. “I couldn’t agree more. She’s sure healed me a couple of times now.”

Embarrassed by their praise, she focused on her empty bowl without saying anything more. At least the conversation had turned to subjects other than—

“What are your intentions toward my sister?”

She sighed. Intentions? Really, Eduardo? The man refused to let it go. He was worse than a wolf feeding on a fresh carcass.

Rather than become defensive, Lucas smiled and turned to Cassie. “We have a lot in common. I think we’re becoming good friends.”

Sorry, Lucas. I cannot be friends with you.

“I found you naked and asleep with her.”

Enough! Cassie slammed her spoon onto the table. “Eduardo, stop it! I explained to you why we were together that way.”

Eduardo glared at her. “I have seen how familiar he is with you—enticing you to eat, causing you to blush when he looks at you, calling you pet names.” Eduardo paused, and she hoped he would stop. But no. “There is something you are not telling me.”

He turned his focus on Lucas. “Have you taken advantage of my sister’s innocence?”

Well, that was a loaded question. Eduardo had found them naked in each other’s arms. Of course, nothing had happened, but Lucas paused too long, whether from shock or trying to find the right words, which only fueled Eduardo’s suspicions. Guilt and something she could not read were evident on Lucas’s face.

“I knew it.” Eduardo’s breathing grew shallow and rapid as he fisted his hand.

Would he attack Lucas? He would have to go through her to do so. Why did Lucas not simply reassure him that nothing had happened? Cassie set her lips in a straight line. She was not sure now if she wanted to deck her brother or Lucas before running to hide from both of them. Her chest rose and fell several times as her own breathing became more agitated.

In Spanish, Eduardo directed his next words at her. “As your brother and guardian, it is my place to make sure that your honor is upheld and that you are protected.”

Cassie glanced at Lucas, but he resumed eating without making eye contact. Did he understand Spanish and know what Eduardo had said? Was his lip twitching as if he fought bursting into laughter? Perhaps this was funny to him, but certainly not to her.

She decided to respond in Spanish, as well, just in case. “I am no longer under your protection. I have lived alone now for five years. The only way anything about me will be learned by our parents is if you take your lies back to them. I suggest you keep your conclusions to yourself and let me live my life as I see fit.”

Could this conversation make her any more uncomfortable—or angry? If only Eduardo knew he was too late to preserve something that no longer existed. Her innocence, honor, and reputation had been destroyed long ago—the night she snuck out of the house to go out with Pedro, looking for a little excitement after having so much fun clubbing with Kitty in New York City.

But she had no intention of enlightening him. Even if Pedro’s and Diego’s threats against her and her parents were idle ones, she would not take the chance of shaming her family with the knowledge of what she had allowed to happen by her own stupidity. Too much time had passed for her to prove she had been anything but a willing participant.

Cassie did not want to relive those memories by having to tell the story anyway. She had left that behind in Peru. Her honor could never be avenged, but she had no desire to have the filth smeared in her face again.

No man. No sex. No marriage.

She shuddered, speaking under her breath in Spanish, as rude as it was to Lucas. She feared her brother would say something about what he thought had happened that night with Pedro, only to embarrass her further. “Eduardo, if you say another word, I will kick you out of my house and never permit you to return. Do I make myself clear?”

Her words reverberated in her head as if through a megaphone. Had she really just stood up to her brother? Her hand shook from the enormity of it.

Lucas set his spoon down and took a deep breath before glaring at Eduardo. She had never seen him angry, but something seethed beneath the surface. “Cassie’s a grown woman, and what she chooses to do is up to her.”

No! Now he made it sound as though they had been doing something they shouldn’t. “Lucas, tell him what happened. We have not been alone to corroborate our stories. As long as you tell the truth, he can see that I have not been lying to him.”

He grinned at her. “I’m coming to that part, darlin’.”

Stop calling me that, especially in front of Eduardo!

“Listen, your sister has done nothing to dishonor herself since the day we met last year. She—”

Instead of responding to him, Eduardo addressed her with steely eyes. “You have known him for a year? I thought you said you just met with some friends a couple of weeks ago.”

Cassie slammed her fist on the table, rattling the spoons in the bowls. “Eduardo, stop this immediately! Nothing happened! We hardly know each other!”

“But I found you in bed together. There is something you are not telling me.”

Fine time for his psychic abilities to surface. There were a lot of things she had not told Eduardo, but when it came to Lucas, she had been completely honest.

Now he twisted her words, attempting to trip her up. She glared at him before venturing one more time to prove her innocence. Through gritted teeth, she explained again. “We first met last September through my friend and college roommate Kitty. You remember her from your visits to me at Columbia?”

“The Goth singer?”

“Yes, but she is not as Goth anymore. She will soon become a mother and sings at her husband’s um…private club in Denver now.”

Best not to mention what kind of club.

“Anyway, some friends of hers were hanging out near here recently, and Kitty asked me to join them. We do not see each other very much anymore. I told you about this gathering already. Lucas happened to be among them. He and I had not seen each other since last October. No, I mean, December.” He flustered her to the point she had completely forgotten about their brief encounter at her first gallery opening.

Eduardo opened his mouth to pounce at her slip of the tongue. Why was he being so accusatory? Why assume she was being anything but honest with him?

Did he know she had lied to her family about the rape?

Her soup refluxed into her throat.

“Stop badgering your sister.” Lucas’s hand reached out to hers, but she pulled away. This was no time for him to display what Eduardo would interpret as Lucas being her solicitous lover.

Cassie glanced at Lucas, imploring him not to make matters worse, but he was not finished with Eduardo yet and ignored her. “She’s told you what happened. Why do you refuse to listen to what she’s saying?”

Eduardo stood and stared down at him. “If you were any kind of man, you would protect her reputation by doing the right thing.”

Lucas also stood, more slowly, his chair scraping on the linoleum floor. Her brother was several inches shorter than Lucas, but drew himself up to his full height in an attempt to intimidate Lucas anyway.

Without success. “I think you owe your sister an apology.”

Goddess, they are going to come to blows.

“Please, Lucas. Sit down. I can handle this.” Not that she was making any headway with her stubborn brother, either. The two men’s demeanors infested her home with negative energy. Well, not Lucas so much as Eduardo.

After a long, tense moment, Lucas complied and sat. She faced her brother and smiled, hoping to diffuse his anger. “I realize you think you saw something inappropriate this morning, but it was not what you think. I have explained what happened. If you choose not to believe me…”

Eduardo narrowed his gaze at Cassie and addressed her in rapid Spanish. “If Papá had seen what I saw this morning, he would demand that you marry this man immediately to save your honor and reputation.”

Cassie stood so quickly her chair tumbled backward. No one would coerce her into marrying against her will. She had avoided one such arranged marriage already. Thank the Goddess she had never told Eduardo or her family about the rape. Otherwise, she might have found herself married off to Pedro by now, her life—no, her very soul—destroyed.

Her family did not control her actions any longer. Of course, her parents’ generous monetary gifts helped pay her living expenses. Because it was still early in her career, Cassie needed time to build up her savings. She had hoped last year’s gallery exhibition would be more successful than it had been and had been forced to schedule another one next month. Peddling her artwork was a necessary evil. She found much more joy in her studio creating the works than smiling at people as they scrutinized her art and decided whether they would pay to take something home.

What if the upcoming gallery showing was unsuccessful? And her parents cut her off because she refused to return home or to marry Lucas?

The walls closed in around her. Her hands grew damp, and she fisted them at her sides. In Spanish, albeit with false bravado, she spoke through her clenched teeth, “Lucas will not be forced to marry me. And I will not be returning to Peru.”

She hoped to keep Eduardo from further intimidation tactics. Lucas struck her as the kind of man who would defend a woman’s honor if he thought he had been responsible for damaging it.

But nothing immoral had happened between them! What man would allow himself to be coerced into marriage without anything in it for him? Eduardo would never be able to shackle Lucas with a defective, unwilling, frigid wife.

No, marriage for her was out of the question. End of discussion.

Memories of being held in Lucas’s arms last night—touching him even—left her confused. What if…

No. Out of the question.

She had no interest in marrying—ever.

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