Free The Cattleman by Angi Morgan

’em.”
    “Are you certain? You seem to be fading out somewhere.”
    The first pings of sleet bounced off his hat that had fallen to the ground. “Time for talking later. Mount up. We’ve got to get shelter.”
    “Are you sure we can’t just hug a tree trunk until this passes?”
    “You’d be standing there quite a while.” He snatched his hat from the rocks.
    “You’re crazy.”
    “So I’ve been told.”
    “I did not mean that like you think.”
    “Cover your face with your scarf, keep your head down and let Applewine do her job. Just relax. She’ll follow behind Rocket without questioning a thing. If you could do that, I’d appreciate it.”
    A quiet harrumph and her lips tightened like she’d superglued them together. She clicked and cooed to her horse as she’d been taught, but was silent for the hour it took to get to the cabin.
    They stabled the horses where she opened her mouth, looked at him, and then changed her mind. Warm, brushed and fed, the animals would be protected and comfortable in the lean-to.
    Maybe he should have told her about the cabin earlier and that they’d have a bed—or couch—to sleep on. But he hadn’t made up his mind to head this direction until the sleet had begun.
    Imagining the impossibly close quarters of a tent was what made him hightail it here.
    He grabbed an armful of wood from the pile near the cabin. Beth did the same.
    “What is this place? And don’t you dare say it’s a cabin. I can see that much.”
    “Then why did you ask?”
    She dropped the stack of wood, then placed her fisted hands on her hips and cracked her neck as if she was about to pull a trigger.
    “We actually crossed over to Kate’s land. The place belongs to her, but I use it from time to time.”
    “So no sleeping under the stars to clear your head tonight?”
    “I thought this would be a little more comfortable for you.” He knelt to start the fire.
    “Actually, I won’t lie. I appreciate it. I could do with some hot coffee and grub.”
    He couldn’t help it, his head whipped around to look at the city girl who had just used the word grub .
    “Isn’t that the word?”
    “Sure it is, but since when do you talk like that?”
    “I figured, when in Rome... Your dad says it like that all the time when he signs off from his chat rooms. I’ve also heard it in the movies.” She’d fallen asleep watching a Western almost every night. “Where’s the coffeemaker?”
    “I’m building it.”
    She let out a long sigh and collapsed on the bench seat next to the door.
    “Dinner’s leftover turkey and biscuits. They’re in my saddlebags.” He knelt by the fireplace, stacking and breaking some homemade quick starters into the kindling.
    Beth closed her eyes.
    “Coffee’s there, too.”
    “Sorry, I don’t think I can move.” But she did. She flipped open his gear and dug through the side with food, then shuffled her boots across the wooden floor before she plopped on the couch. Opening the ziplock bags, she dropped them on the coffee table.
    He remembered all too late what he’d thrown in the top of the other bag. Condoms. How would she react if she knew he’d had no intention of leaving without her this morning?
    Now that he was here, he had no intention of starting the generator for electricity. Yet. He had other ideas about how to keep warm.
    “Is that a working potbellied stove?”
    “They didn’t haul it up here for decoration. I’ll get it started after I get water on to boil.”
    She pulled a pillow next to her and sort of slid sideways to get her head to it. She was asleep before he could get inside a cabinet and retrieve a blanket to cover her up. He tugged one of her purple rhinestone boots and then the other, dropping each. The loud noise when they hit the floor didn’t get a flinch. She was passed out like he’d slipped her a sleeping pill.
    “There’s always tomorrow.”
    He piled logs on the fire, closed up the food and toed his own boots off his feet.