The Rancher's Christmas Baby. Cathy Thacker Gillen
the shelf. “Not until tomorrow evening, at which point I will already be safely back in Laramie.”
Teddy stepped aside to let her pass. “What time are you leaving?”
Amy set her clothing on the top of the clothes hamper. “Dawn.” She had promised the trees would be there by noon at the latest. This would give her plenty of time.
Teddy watched as she rubbed cleansing lotion onto her face. “Who’s going to unload the truck?”
Amy dampened a washcloth and washed off the remains of the day. “The members of the civic club. They’re supposed to have a dozen people there, so it shouldn’t take long. I can collect my paycheck and be on my way.” Finished, she layered toothpaste onto a brush.
Teddy frowned as she brushed and rinsed. “I still don’t like it.”
Amy bent to take off her wool socks. His presence kept her from disrobing any further. “It’s not really up to you to like or dislike it.” Hand to the center of his chest, she pushed him gently back into the narrow hall, between the bedroom and kitchen. Her palm tingled from the solid warmth of him. She dropped her hand and stepped back, so she was just inside the bath. Before he could continue, she added, “And if you say you’re my husband now, I really am going to lose it.”
Teddy grinned unrepentantly. “Is that so?”
Aware her pulse was racing, Amy nodded. “I managed just fine without you all these years. You don’t need to step in and run my life now.”
His expression gentled. “I’ll feel better if I’m with you.”
Unsolicited orders were easy to ignore. Tenderness was much harder to fight. Amy drew a stabilizing breath. “You have your own business to run.”
“Nothing that can’t be managed by my part-time help.” This time, he held up a hand to cut her off. “I’m going with you tomorrow, Amy. End of story. Now, where are we going to sleep tonight?”
FIFTEEN MINUTES LATER, Teddy lay in Amy’s double bed, listening to the shower running. Funny, he had never had much trouble ignoring Amy’s soft curves and silky skin when they had just been friends. Now, as he lay in sheets and blankets scented with the unique fragrance of her, it was much harder to stay immune to her delectable presence.
Had he insisted they sleep at his place, he could have stretched out on the sectional sofa and given her his king-size bed.
Knowing how important it was to her to maintain her independence, he had respected her request and come here to sleep. Again. Since there was no way he could get his body onto her sofa, he had ended up scrunched up on the double bed, which was still too small by half. Hoping yet another uncomfortable night would show her the wisdom of sleeping at his place from here on out, he closed his eyes.
The water in the bathroom shut off.
He heard Amy moving around, knew she was toweling off.
It took forever for her to dress.
Blow-dry her hair.
Emerge from the bathroom, smelling like the perfumed soap and shampoo she used, and tiptoe toward the other end of the small trailer.
Aware his body was reacting in a way it shouldn’t, he turned onto his side. Given the way he was aching, it was going to be a long night.
Eventually, Teddy went to sleep.
When the alarm went off, he dressed and went out to transfer the necessities from his pickup to her cargo truck.
Amy climbed behind the wheel, a thermos of coffee, a bag of granola bars and apples, and two thermal mugs in her arms. She cast a skeptical look at the boxes he’d stowed behind the seat. “What’s all this?”
“Survival gear.”
Her pretty eyes widened. “You’re kidding.”
Teddy shrugged and climbed into the cab beside her. “Never hurts to be prepared. There’s a lot of desolate road between here and Wichita Falls.”
Scoffing, Amy fit the key into the ignition. “We’re not going to need that stuff.”
“Of course we’re not,” he teased. “We’d only need it if we didn’t have it.”
She considered that. “True.”
Trying not to appear as antsy as he felt, he settled into the passenger seat. “You want to split the driving?” He wasn’t used to taking the passive role. Particularly when he was with her.
“No.” Amy’s chin took on a familiar, stubborn tilt. “I can do it.”
Teddy forced himself not to exhale in exasperation. “If you change your mind…”
“I’ll let you know.”
The morning passed quickly. Although the weather reports remained dire, the pavement was dry when they reached Wichita Falls. However, the clouds were a deep, troubling gray-white.
Luckily, the trees were unloaded quickly and Amy was paid.
By three that afternoon, they were on their way back.
Shortly after, the rain began.
“Maybe we should just err on the side of caution and get a room somewhere,” Teddy said, studying the sky.
“And get stuck here for who knows how many days if this turns to ice? I don’t think so. We’re moving away from the storm. I think we should continue. Besides, it’s just rain.”
“Now.” Teddy pointed to the digital numbers on her dashboard that indicated it was currently thirty-three degrees outside. “If the temperature dips a point or two, we could be dealing with freezing rain or sleet.”
“By the time that happens, we’ll be well out of harm’s way,” Amy predicted.
Not necessarily, since the storm was moving in a southerly direction, from the west, and they were headed southwest.
“At least let me drive,” Teddy said, aware they were still a good five hours from home.
Amy gripped the wheel with both hands, her attention firmly on the road. “Your job is to ride shotgun. That’s it.”
Was this what it was going to be like to be married to her? Amy seemed to be holding on to her autonomy with all her might. And while Teddy understood that—he, too, had an independent streak a mile wide—he also knew that marriage required compromise. Thus far, Amy hadn’t demonstrated much of an inclination to meet him halfway on anything, never mind allow him to protect and care for her in the traditional way husbands cared for their wives.
He found that frustrating as hell.
“Don’t worry,” Amy promised, completely misreading the reason behind his concern. “We’ll stop and get some dinner when we get far enough away from all this.”
TWO HOURS LATER, AMY GLARED at Teddy from across the table. He’d barely spoken to her since they entered the restaurant. Worse, he was so edgy he was making her tense. “Would you stop fidgeting and looking at your watch?” she asked irritably.
“Can’t help it.” The look he gave her mirrored her mood to a T. “I’d rather be driving. Actually—” he held up a hand and corrected before she could comment “—I’d rather be checked into a hotel room.”
That was the last thing they needed. Especially when the idea of the two of them sequestered in a hotel room together, waiting for the winter storm to pass, immediately conjured up forbidden images of hot, passionate sex….
Forcing herself to stop her wayward thoughts—hadn’t notions like that gotten her into trouble in the past?—Amy turned her gaze toward the Christmas tree in the lobby of the truck stop.
Although carols were playing on the sound system, and peppermint ice cream pie was on the menu, it still didn’t feel like Christmas to her.