Running Blind Read online

  She had to. Accepting such a gift would tie her to him, to this place, and damn it she was tied down enough as it was. “It’s too much. I can’t accept …”

  “If it makes you feel better, call it a Christmas present,” he barked.

  “Christmas is two months away!”

  “Damn it, can’t you just say thank you like a normal woman? I don’t want you to fall walking to the garage because the soles of those cheap boots are too slick. I don’t want you freezing to death walking from The Pie Hole to the library. Since when do safety concerns about an employee make me the bad guy?”

  “There’s no need to yell,” she said in a calm voice that she knew would annoy him.

  “I’m not yelling!”

  “Actually, you are.” She sighed. “The thought was very nice, but it’s not like I’m going to freeze this winter. I was just going to borrow one of your old coats when I needed to, and there are a hundred pairs of gloves and twice as many hats in this house. The boots I bought will do. I’ll just be extra careful when it’s slick outside. That coat … it’s very nice, it really is, but it’s too much.”

  “Fine,” Zeke snapped. At least he was no longer yelling. “The boots and the coat come with the job. When you quit in the spring you can leave them here for the next cook, if that makes you feel better.”

  “It does, actually.”

  “Good.” He headed toward the door, a bit of anger in his step and in his voice. “I’m going to get a shower before supper.”

  As he stepped into the dining room, on his way to the stairs near the front door, Carlin stopped him with a softly spoken, “Zeke?”

  He stopped instantly when she spoke his name, turned slowly to face her. Her heart was racing again. What on earth had she gotten herself into? A coat and a pair of boots wouldn’t hold her here, no matter how expensive they were, so she might as well face it. It wasn’t the stuff. It was him. It was the deep down, undeniable sense that Zeke needed her that held her here. Not the kiss, not the physical attraction. Those things should send her running, not make her determined to stay. Zeke Decker, tough guy with a chip on his shoulder, needed her. For a while, at least.

  “Thank you,” she said.

  “You’re welcome.” He turned and walked away, and while she was still within earshot he added, in a slightly raised voice. “Now really, was that so hard?”

  Chapter Eighteen

  CARLIN HAD SEEN snow before, kind of, but not like this. She’d seen flurries, a dusting, but mostly her experience with snow was of the television variety.

  The snow began to fall, and it kept coming down. She’d looked out her bedroom window a time or two, during the night, entranced by the sight and how it made everything take on a soft glow. It came down hard, and then soft, silent and beautiful. By morning, there was at least a foot of the white stuff, probably more. As far as she could see, out that same window, was an untouched white blanket that covered everything.

  She threw together a breakfast casserole and popped it into the oven. One-dish meals had become her best friend since she’d started working here. She rarely turned to them for breakfast, but this morning was different. Feeling a little bit like a child—and not minding at all—she wanted to be the first to put her mark in the snow. She wanted to see that white blanket stretching before her, unmarked and unbroken.

  Instead of pulling on the new coat Zeke had bought for her, she snagged a heavy coat off the rack—one she’d never seen him wear so surely he wouldn’t complain if she put it to use—and pulled it on. It was much too big, but with the sleeves folded back it would do. The new boots he’d bought her were perfect; she needed waterproof, at the moment. She also pulled on the knit hat and gloves he’d bought, bundling herself up good.

  The cold wind hit her in the face the minute she stepped out on the front porch. It was crisp and clean and made her shudder, but she ignored it and kept going, stepping down the stairs, carefully, since she didn’t know if the steps under that snow would be slick with ice or not. One step, then another, feeling as if she were an infant just learning how to walk. She pulled the hood of the borrowed coat up to protect her cheeks as she finally reached ground level, and measured the depth of the snow. Yes, at least a foot. Every step was an effort; she had to pick her feet straight up with every step, like someone in a marching band. The wind stilled, and abruptly the temperature was much more comfortable.

  For a long minute she stood there, scanning the horizon, wondering if she had ever seen anything so beautiful in her entire life. She’d always loved the beach, and there had been a time when she’d been certain nothing could be as breathtaking as the ocean stretching endlessly before her. But now … this beauty was different, but just as awe inspiring.

  If she didn’t have to be so careful, if she didn’t need to stay on the move … this place could be home. It had been such a long time since she’d thought of anyplace as anything more than a temporary stop along the way. Even before Brad, she’d simply been moving from one job to the next, waiting for her life to restart, waiting for a place, anyplace, to feel like home.

  She was so damned tired of waiting. Battle Ridge—this ranch—they were different. And she was different here.

  Like it or not, Zeke was a big part of the unexpected feeling of home.

  Bad idea. Come spring she’d be on the move again. She had to keep that foremost in her mind. Until she could think of something to do about Brad, or he overplayed his hand in some other way and got caught, everything in her life was transitional. This was a temporary stop, a detour along the way. It wasn’t home. Acknowledging that made her heart ache and she stared at the beauty before her to imprint it in her mind, so she wouldn’t forget it. Yes, it was terribly cold, but that was a small price to pay for … this.

  She walked toward the nearest pasture, watching the way her feet made deep tracks in the snow. Giddy was too strong a word, and she’d never let anyone see that something as simple as a good snow could make her feel this way, but right now, at this moment, she was … happy. Content. When she was halfway between the house and the fence line, she dropped down and grabbed a handful of snow. It was powdery, light, and as a cloud moved by and the early-morning sun shone down, it seemed to sparkle.

  With the sun on the snow, the world was so bright and clean she had to squint. The next time she came out, she’d wear her sunglasses. She shook the snow out of her hand, watched it fall as she’d watched it fall during the night.

  Everything was so quiet she heard the door open and close, even though it was obvious Zeke was trying to be quiet. She turned to face the house, and him. Like her, he was bundled up against the cold.

  He strode straight for her—maybe stomping was a better word—and he wasn’t smiling.

  “Why aren’t you wearing your new coat?”

  So much for contentment. “I didn’t want to get it dirty.”

  He sighed at that. “Coats are supposed to be worn. They’re supposed to get dirty!”

  “When they cost as much as that one did, they should be framed and hung on the wall for display!”

  “Your new coat is …”

  “You mean the cook’s coat. It’s not actually mine.”

  His jaw clenched, and then he said, “Fine, the damned cook’s coat would be much warmer than that one.”

  “I’m fine,” she responded. “Perfectly warm, in fact. I’d like to point out that I’m wearing one of your old coats. Why did you buy it if it isn’t warm enough? Huh?” Satisfied that she’d won that exchange, she didn’t want to look at him anymore. The man made her antsy in so many ways. He stirred her temper and she always ended up getting defensive. He knew exactly how to push her buttons—every single one of them—and he turned her on. She didn’t need any of that, not on this peaceful morning, so she turned to face the mountains again. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

  “Yes.” The anger was gone from Zeke’s voice, in that one simple word. Did he still see it the way she did, even though he’