Page 5 of Snowed in with the Rancher

“Okay, Mommy,” Melissa said with iron determination, and Jackie nodded to show her support.

“Help! Help! Down here!” Olivia began to shout. Both girls followed suit, sometimes shouting words, other times simply screaming as only four-year-olds can—high-pitched, ear-splitting, blood-curdling screams.

Suddenly, the engine stopped, and then she heard a dog barking.

“Mommy!” Jackie shouted, eyes bright with hope. “It's a puppy!”

The barking got closer and closer, and then she heard a man's voice. “Go get 'em, Lobster!”

The dog barked again, and Olivia yelled, “Down here! We're down here!”

Then a big black head with bright eyes and a silvery muzzle appeared over the edge of the embankment.

Both girls shrieked in excitement, and the dog stopped barking and whined at them, his silly tongue lolling out of his mouth as he whipped his head back and forth between them and whoever was up top.

Footsteps came closer, and she heard a deep, husky voice say, “Good job, Lobster. There's a good boy.”

Olivia's face broke out into a smile. A dog named Lobster. She was going to buy him a Porterhouse steak when they got out of this damn mess.

Then a big boot appeared at the edge of the embankment next to Lobster. Olivia's gaze traveled up and up, passing over long legs encased in worn denim, a broad chest, and wide shoulders, and finally reaching a face that she could never forget.

The face that had haunted her every day and every night for five long years.

THREE

Tate recognized her face instantly. Even with her long hair partially covered by a stocking cap and her amazing body wrapped in a boatload of puffy layers, he instantly knew it was Olivia by her eyes. Those big, beautiful hazel gems. Eyes that had stared into his in a moonlit ship's cabin on a sultry summer night all those years ago. Eyes that had drifted closed as he'd kissed her and run his hands over her silky skin.

“Are you going to rescue us?” a little voice asked. Tate blinked once, trying to regain his bearings.

“It's Tate, right?” Olivia called quietly up the slope.

He gave her a stiff nod, too rattled by memories of his time with her—and by the abrupt, unexplained way that it had ended—to know how to respond. “Olivia. It's…well…Let's not worry about what you're doing here—we need to get you all out. How does that sound?”

She nodded. “Thank you. I was starting to get worried.”

He looked at the little girls—her daughters, he guessed—then back at her. It made his heart do a small skip when he thought about all the things that might have happened between them. To cover his feelings, he reached down and patted Lobster on the head again.

“I'm going to set up so I can help you all climb out of there.”

“One of my daughters has a sprained ankle,” Olivia told him with a grimace.

“That's okay,” he reassured her. “I can carry her piggyback. I bet she can hold on just like a little monkey.” He winked at the girls and was rewarded when they both giggled. Thankfully, they seemed calm and cheerful. He'd been involved in more than a few rescues where everyone—from the children all the way up to the adults—had been panicked and crying. He couldn't blame them, of course. Getting trapped was scary, by definition. But Olivia had managed to hold things together for her girls. She must be a great mom.

Fifteen minutes later, he had the rope secured to a nearby tree, and he and Olivia were coaching the uninjured girl—Lissa, Olivia called her—to walk up the embankment. The rope tied around her waist would keep her from getting injured. He could have simply pulled her up with it, but that wouldn't be very comfortable for her, and she was a healthy little kid, so he hoped she could get herself most of the way up the slope.

Her little face was screwed up in determination, her brows furrowed, mouth set as she continued up the embankment. Something about the expression was so familiar, he couldn't help a smile.

“You're doing great,” he told her from his perch above. “And if you get too tired, you just let me know.”

She nodded and kept methodically stepping, pulling herself along, hand over hand, as he'd shown her. After a few minutes, she reached a point immediately below him.

“Want a lift up the last two feet?” he asked with a smile.

She shook her head, repositioned her hands, pushed with her feet, and hoisted herself the last bit until she was teetering on the edge on her tummy.

Olivia and the other girl, Jackie, cheered from below while Tate reached under Lissa's arms and pulled her to stand safely on firm ground near—but not too near—the edge.

She gazed at him with triumph shining all over her sweet little face. “I made it.”

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