Page 2 of The Promise
Damn. It looked dead. He swung his leg over the saddle and dropped to the ground, his long-legged stride taking him over to the fallen animal. It was covered in snow, and he bent down to brush it off, his heart heavy. He needed live cattle if he was going to make a go of his homestead, and the harsh Colorado winter, seemed determined to take them from him one by one.
His hand touched soft, cold skin and he froze, eyes widening in surprise. It wasn't a cow at all. It was a woman. He knelt beside her, searching for a pulse, his eyes locked on her pale face. There were streaks of blood on her cheeks and her hair was crusted with snow and ice.
An ice princess.
She was exquisite. But not a woman. A woman-child. And, unless he was badly mistaken, she certainly wasn't dead. He wrenched his gaze away from her and glanced up into the blinding fall of snow. One thing was certain, if he didn't get her to shelter fast, neither one of them would be alive much longer.
Cara woke with a start.She was shivering uncontrollably and something solid and warm was holding her captive. She struggled against the bonds, not certain whether she was trying to escape or to snuggle closer to the heat. Her head felt as if it might split in two.
"Hush now, be still. I'm trying to get you warm."
The voice was soft, fluid, and very male, its resonance radiating through her. She relaxed, allowing herself to settle into his embrace. Which in and of itself was unusual. He was a stranger after all, and she hadn't the slightest idea how she'd gotten here.
All she knew for certain was that her head was pounding and that she was cold. He provided a refuge for one of her two ailments and for the moment that was enough. Her eyes flickered open and she saw firelight dancing on rock walls.
Firelight.
Memory slammed into her. The wreck. Her parents. She jerked away, her heart pounding, determined to go back—to find them. She tried to stand, but the world went topsy-turvy and she collapsed again, warm arms encircling her, keeping her from falling.
"I've got to find them." Her voice came out in a cracked whisper and she wasn't certain he'd be able to understand her.
"Find who?" Blue eyes moved into her line of vision. Blue eyes and black hair. A face just beginning to hint at the man he would become.
Cara searched his eyes, calmed by what she saw there. "My parents. There was a wreck. And everything ex…exploded." A vision of the two cars lighting up the night filled her brain, tears rolling down her face.
He frowned, one hand absently stroking her hair, the feeling soothing—right, somehow. "I didn't see anything like that."
"Well, I've got to go look. I've got to know for certain." Panic rose inside her, and she tried to push it away. It wouldn't do to lose control, but it was so hard to concentrate. To think.
"You can't." His voice held a note of finality. "There's a blizzard raging outside. You wouldn't get three feet in this weather."
"But they might need me."
"You can't help them now." His eyes were full of compassion, the emotion softening the harsh planes of his face. "And I can't believe they'd want you risking your life against a storm like this." He shifted, pulling her closer into his arms. "We'll look in the morning."
She fought against the blackness that beckoned just at the edge of her consciousness, but it was compelling her to close her eyes, to surrender. The pain in her head was so intense, and she was so tired. So very tired.
Her eyes fluttered closed. "What's your name?" The words came out on a whisper.
"Michael. Michael Macpherson."
Michael. She sighed, letting the darkness carry her away.
Michael was the name of an angel.
Michael trimmedthe wick on the lantern, trying to save fuel. The fire had burned downed to embers. The lantern was their only source of light. And heat. He reckoned it wasn't too much longer until dawn, and hopefully that meant they'd be able to make their way back to his ranch.
His horse snorted softly behind him, stamping with impatience, almost as if he'd read his mind. But then horses were like that. The woman by the fire moaned, and struggled against the confines of his greatcoat. Golden hair spilled out against the tanned hide of the sheepskin.
She was a beauty. Even with the gash on her head.
He'd tried to clean it up the best he could, and bandaged it, but it was obvious she needed a doctor. And that presented a problem. Even with the cessation of the storm, they'd be lucky to make the ranch. There wasn't much chance he could get her into Silverthread. There would be too damn much snow.
Hell.
She moaned again and opened her eyes, firelight reflecting in the green of her gaze. Her look of confusion softened as she recognized him. "Michael."
He wasn't certain his name had ever sounded that good. He shook his head, clearing his thoughts, and moved to sit beside her, bringing the meager light of the lantern with him. He reached out to brush the hair back from her face. "How are you feeling?"
