Page 10 of A Christmas Baby for the Cowboy
People off in more civilized places couldn’t possibly understand what the true Montana wilderness was really like. They drove through the national parks on paved roads and marveled at the views and never left the safety of their vehicles to test themselves against the true splendor of the West.
Much less the other side of that splendor, which was its majestic power, and all the many ways it could kill… everything.
Ramona let her grip on the steering wheel relax a bit, because feeling small in Montana made her happy. It was why she moved here. And some part of her thought that was why she could pull off drives like this—but she was still ecstatic that she’d made it to the ranch. She blew out a long, shuddering sort of breath as she turned in at the sign.
She accepted the fact that she really hadn’t thought she was going to make it, shuddered, and let it go.
Because now, even if she spun off into a ditch, she would be on Carey property. If absolutely necessary, she could walk to safety. And if for some reason she couldn’t make it out of the vehicle, she knew one of the Careys would find her.
It was amazing what a difference that made. On a physical level inside of her.
That was one more thing she was never going to admit to any Montana natives, no matter how much she liked feeling small here.
The road into the ranch was piled high with snow, but it was easier to find her way because the drive was cut through the overhanging trees and there were no cliffs on either side. This meant she could inch along until she got the first gap in the trees on the right side, which she knew was the way to Knox’s house.
And then, after she bumped that way a while, careful to stay between the lines of forest on both sides all heavy with snow, she saw lights.
This was the best yet because she knew they would lead straight up to that house of his. It was a kind of modern farmhouse, though he’d stepped back on the black shutter thing that seemed to be ubiquitous these days. Ramona knew perfectly well that it was a beautiful house, objectively speaking. Not everyone could live in a haunted house. She might consider Knox’s farmhouse a little bit soulless, personally, but that’s what he liked.
Or that’s what he claimed to like.
Because Knox Carey was charming. Everyone agreed. But at the first hint of anything like a feeling?
He was gone.
Ramona felt this was reflected in the house he’d built here and lived in like it was a hotel.
“None of that is your business,” she muttered to herself as she drew near. “And none of it matters tonight anyway.”
She pulled up as close to his porch as she could. And turned off the truck, then took a moment to collect herself, because she was pretty sure that drive would feature prominently in her nightmares for some time. But that time was not now. Now she had to get her doctor game face on.
Ramona grabbed her medical bag and the backpack she’d stuffed full of infant supplies, then climbed out of the truck, not surprised to find herself in snow up to her thighs.
She waded through it—inelegantly—and then fought her way up onto the porch where she stamped her feet. Loudly. Trying to knock the snow off, but also alerting Knox that she had arrived.
By the time she made it to the front door, it was opening.
Then she had to stop and stare, as always, because she was here to do her doctor thing but she was only a girl. Especially around him.
Knox filled the doorway, and it wasn’t fair. He wasn’t fair, on any level.
His dark hair was a mess, but that in no way detracted from the painfully masculine beauty of his face. He was far too good-looking. That had always been true.
Tonight he looked a little bit frazzled, but, of course, he made that kind of hot. His eyes looked sleepy and they were that bright golden color that told her he was feeling things, which he never liked. He had an impossible jaw line that was covered in stubble this late, and she knew exactly how it felt to take that face of his in her hands and kiss his mouth until she felt dizzy.
He was also bare chested, which would normally send very different signals. Since he was all hard planes and ridges of abdominal muscles, and favored battered jeans that rode low on his hips, and usually had a particular heat in his gaze when he answered the door like that.
Ramona had spent a lot of time bemoaning the fact that any man could look this good.
But tonight he was also cradling a tiny, chubby baby in his arms, which did damage to her in ways she wasn’t sure she was going to recover from. Possibly ever. Because she’d dreamed about moments like this. Knox and a baby.
She’d learned better than to let those dreams linger and now here they were—
When she stood there and stared, he scowled at her.
“I don’t want her to catch a chill,” he told her gruffly.
Ramona stamped her way inside, closed the door behind her, and tried to get her bearings.
