My Southern Bride (The Texas Two-Step Series, Book 4) (9 page)

"Why don't you turn over the new list of chores you made?"

His list contained some chores he normally wouldn't have added if he hadn't felt so cooped up. Chores he wasn't likely to do himself.

Giving her this list was not a good idea. Not while she was just on this side of a smile. "Why don't you grab your shower first, and then we can discuss my list?"

"I want to think over the chores while I'm in the shower."

"My list is too complex. Shower first."

She shot him a look that bored into his soul. How did she do that?

He squirmed.

"Is there any reason why you don't want me to see your list?"

Bingo.

But he couldn't admit that.

"It'll take awhile to discuss it. Go do your girly things first, and afterward we'll have a nice chat."

"Is there something in my hair? Do I stink?"

"Maybe a little hay in your hair, but it looks cute." He sniffed the air near her. "No, you don't stink."

"So if it's not me, then it's your list. Where is it?" She glanced around the area where he sat.

At least he'd been smart enough to slide it under one of the magazines on the table.

"Hah!" She'd caught him looking and made a mad grab for the magazine, but not so fast she got to his list before him.

He pulled the paper to his chest. "I need to add some things."

Her eyes narrowed. "What did you put on your list that you don't want me to read?"

"I've thought better of some of the chores."

"Quit being silly and show me."

Monty Joe sighed. Dramatically. Then he handed over the notepad.

"Thank you." Lori began reading the list, nodding her head in understanding as she went along. Then she got to one of the chores he hadn't wanted her to see. "Wash your clothes?"

"Yeah. I thought better of that one. Clothes washing can wait."

"Mop your kitchen floor?"

"That can wait, too."

Her eyes widened as she continued to read. "Wear that pretty pink sweater again?"

Chapter 12

"Just because you're stuck alone at a ranch with one hunky cowboy," Lori lectured herself as she blew her hair dry, "doesn't mean you have to go and get a crush on him."

First he'd wanted a goodnight kiss, then he wanted to see her in her pink sweater. What was going on with him? She nodded at her reflection in the bedroom mirror.

"It's just the situation. It's not because you think Monty Joe's feelings toward you might have changed."

But had they?

Why else had he mentioned her sweater?

Well, there was
liking
, and then there was
lusting
. And maybe being stuck together had brought out his lustful side. That was way more likely than his feelings having changed toward her.

Her thoughts returned to his two outrageously long lists of chores. She shook her head.

The man didn't like her. Never had.

While she'd always made it a point to not like someone who didn't like her, it didn't mean the converse—that if someone liked her she had to like them back.

And liking was a long way from loving.

Not that she thought Monty Joe loved her. He didn't. But maybe he didn't hate her. Maybe he'd begun to approve of her—at least a little.

She'd keep reminding herself not to grow too attached to him. Or too attracted. As soon as she headed back to Dallas, their relationship would return to the status quo.

Lori placed the blow dryer on the bureau, gave her hair one last brushing, then pulled it into a ponytail.

She glanced at herself in the mirror, and saw pink. Too much pink. "Oh, no."

Why had she put on the pink sweater? She yanked it off and tossed it on her bed, where it could cause the least amount of harm. Although she didn't have many clothing choices, she had to avoid that one. Instead she selected a long-sleeved green t-shirt, which was just about perfect as it suited the chores waiting for her—and, just as perfectly, wouldn't suit Monty Joe.

She descended the stairs on her way to handle the first job: choosing a slab of meat from the freezer to thaw for dinner.

When she reached the family room, Monty Joe was sound asleep.

Good. That should keep him out of her hair while she went to work.

When she entered the kitchen, she opened the freezer and found various shapes in white butcher paper. None were labeled. Typical of a bachelor to not think ahead that someone other than him would be going through his freezer. Or that he might not remember what was in any of the packages.

She grabbed a flat one, hoping it was another pair of steaks, then set it on the counter. She unwrapped it and, as she'd hoped, found two steaks. If they didn't thaw in time, she could always zap them in the microwave.

Next she opened the pantry door. It was more like a closet than a cupboard, with U-shaped shelves holding all sorts of supplies. Flour. Sugar. Cornmeal.

Like she knew how to use any of them.

Thankfully, one set of shelves was devoted to vegetables canned in Mason jars. Those she could handle.

She selected a jar of green beans and another of what looked like German potato salad, and placed them on the counter beside the thawing steaks.

She glanced outside and saw that the weather had picked up again. Wind howled around the ranch house. Snow swirled, but whether it was fresh snow or simply the wind scattering the existing snow, she couldn't make out. Either way, visibility was shot.

Although a freak snowstorm in Texas was not unheard of, the fact it was sticking around was extremely unusual. But then, the droughts that had plagued South Texas and destroyed crops weren't normal, either.

What a pain, though, that nature chose to wreak havoc at this time. When she was stuck alone with Monty Joe at the Nelson Ranch.

She found some small apples in the refrigerator, and she sliced a few. She might need them to tempt the horses out of the pasture and back into the barn.

By the back door, she wrapped herself in the scarf and jacket, then pulled on the gloves and stepped outside.

She'd show Monty Joe. This time she wouldn't mess anything up.

Chapter 13

It hadn't taken more than a few apple slices to entice the horses back into the barn and their stalls. They didn't like the cold weather any better than she did, and they seemed content with their fresh straw and a little grain.

Billy the goat had dogged her every step. Unlike the horses and their stalls, he apparently didn't like his pen. But before she left, she needed to get him back into it.

However, he wasn't beside her anymore, giving her gentle head-butts of encouragement.

"Where have you gone, Billy?"

She sped through the barn, looking high and low for the goat, but couldn't find him.

The barn door was open, though.

She gulped.

He wouldn't go out in the cold, would he?

Stepping outside into the snow, she looked in every direction, but saw no sign of him. Considering his fur was light, she supposed that wasn't surprising.

The animal would freeze to death if he didn't get back inside where it was warm.

"Billy," she called.

He didn't respond. She turned and firmly closed the barn doors. Surely she'd find the goat as she made her way back to the house.

With each step she took without finding him, she worried all the more.

* * *

Monty Joe bounced a tennis ball against the wall and back. Channel surfing hadn't turned up anything on TV to hold his interest, so he'd landed on the local weather channel. The forecaster sounded hopeful the skies would clear tomorrow.

That was good. Maybe phone service would come back on. Will Miller could send over a man to take care of the horses until Monty Joe's ankle mended enough to take care of them himself.

He could deposit Lori at the airport.

And life could go back to normal.

His brow creased. Why didn't that sound as good as it had only a day ago?

Just as he began to ponder the sinking pit in his stomach, the house plunged into darkness. The power had failed.

Maybe the breakers had tripped.

Maybe the power lines were down, which was more likely.

Either way, he couldn't do much about it. Stumbling around in the nearly dark house with a bum leg wouldn't remedy a thing.

Long minutes of brooding passed.

Frustrated by his lack of choices, he leaned back on the sofa and tried to think about what they could do if the power didn't come back on soon.

He had a generator, but it weighed about three hundred pounds, and he didn't think Lori was strong enough to pull it out of the shed, much less knowledgeable enough to set it up.

There were candles in the emergency kit he kept on hand, but he preferred not to have open flames in the house—not with Lori on the loose. There were electric lanterns out in the shed, which would do for providing light.

Keeping the house warm was another issue. Lori could bring in some of the firewood stacked at the side of the shed.

Would she know how to set up a fire?

If not, he could give her directions from the sofa, or in a pinch, she could help him take the few steps to the fireplace.

Then it occurred to him that maybe he hadn't been thrilled about life returning to normal because Lori wouldn't be here to order around, or take him down a peg or two.

Maybe that was why he felt so listless right now.

It might merely be the situation he found himself in, unable to move about, and the situation they found themselves in, alone during a snowstorm.

Yet, for the first time, he wondered whether that was all there was to it.

Chapter 14

In a full-blown panic, Lori pushed open the back door and dashed into the den. "He escaped. And now he's out there alone in the cold, and he's not going to make it. I can't believe it. I turned my back for a second. A split second. Really. Just a nano-second—"