Mountain Wild (Harlequin Historical Series) by Stacey Kayne Page A

buried in the snow about two miles from here.”
    “Buried?”
    “Covered by a foot of fresh powder. I nearly walked right past you. If your dog hadn’t stood up, I would have. You’d been hit in the head and had been on the ground for a long while.”
    He touched the spot on his head that had been caked with blood when she’d found him.
    “Perhaps you should sit down, Mr. Daines. You were suffering from the cold when I brought you here. You had a high fever all of yesterday and most of today. You’d slept so long I was starting to worry the cold or the fever had damaged your brain.”
    “It must have. I don’t remember riding into these mountains. And I can assure you I am not prone to falling from my saddle.”
    “I didn’t assume that you were. Looked to me like someone struck you with a rifle. By the time I found you any other tracks had been long-since snowed over.”
    He’d been attacked? Garret tried to jar his memory. Shouldn’t he remember something like being knocked from his saddle? Had he been ambushed? The last he could recall was watching Duce’s tracks fade in the heavy rain.
    “I was looking for my partner,” he said. “I followed Duce’s tracks into the hills. What little snow had been on the ground was washed out by the rain.”
    “That’s why you nearly froze to death. It didn’t rain long before snow set in, just before sundown. I found you about an hour past dawn. Have you been feuding with anyone?”
    “Only half the state,” he said, shoving his hands into his hair. “The cattle trade has been more akin to pirating as of late.”
    “Desperation and greed tend to have that effect on men.”
    The chill in her husky voice drew his gaze. Why was it her face that filled his mind instead of his attackers?
    She nodded toward the front wall. “Go sit at the table.”
    She sure didn’t have any trouble passing out orders. His first memory after the storm was her, those blue eyes ablaze with passion, her sweet body arched beneath him as she’d awakened to his touch, his kisses…
    “Mr. Daines?”
    He blinked, and realized she stood before him with a bowl in her hands, his stern nursemaid, not the lover from his dream. The hearty aroma penetrated his dazed mind, initiating a growl in his empty belly.
    “The table,” she repeated.
    She obviously didn’t trust him to not end up on his face, staying at his side until he sat in the chair. She plunked the bowl of stew down in front of him and his mouth watered at the sight of steaming chunks of meat in dark gravy. Despite his hunger, he waited for his hostess to join him. Realizing he sat on the only chair, he grabbed the trunk from the foot of the bed and slid it forward.
    She stayed by the stove, her bowl in hand, her sweet face pinched in a frown. He gathered she hadn’t planned on joining him at the table. Her steps seemed to drag as she approached him. She nudged the trunk to the far side of the table then hesitantly took her seat.
    “I swear I don’t bite,” he said, forcing a smile.
    “I don’t usually have company.”
    “I don’t usually get lost in snowstorms. I am sorry for putting you out.”
    “I’m just glad I didn’t have to bury you in the frozen ground.” With that, she took a bite.
    He didn’t wait for further invitation. He heaped a big bite into his mouth and nearly groaned as venison melted against his tongue, the flavorful gravy nothing short of heaven. He emptied the small bowl in a few hearty bites and would have thumbed out the remaining gravy had the bowl not been snatched away from him.
    “I’ll get you some more.”
    “I don’t want to leave you hungry,” he said, while hoping that big pot was filled to the brim.
    “I have plenty,” she said, refilling his bowl. “Luckily I brought more than a frozen cowboy home from my hunt.”
    “Thank you,” he said, unable to pull his gaze away from her graceful movements as she sat across from him. Had some sorry excuse of a man left her up here to