“What does that mean?” He’d dragged her off before she could grab her jacket, and the temperature had dipped sharply leaving her cold and shivering. Maia switched the heater to full power and rubbed her arms for warmth.
“It means you’re one of those sappy women who get all gooey around little kids and animals and you love the holidays. You probably give the garbageman a present.” With something close to impatience, Cole tossed her his jacket. “Put it on until it gets warm in here. And you do, don’t you?”
“There’s absolutely nothing wrong with giving the garbageman a present. He works hard.” She took the jacket only because she was freezing, “Why?” she asked.
“Why what?” He kept his eyes on the road, picking up speed and heading out of town, pushing the speed limit as well as the margin of safety.
“Why do you detest Christmas music?” Maia watched him closely. His expression didn’t change, but the tension in the Land Cruiser went up a notch.
“Doesn’t everyone detest Christmas music?” he countered.
“No, most people love it. It’s a happy time of year.”
“Is it?” His voice was grim. “Maybe to you. To me, it’s a damned nightmare.”
“I take it you don’t buy gifts for your lady friends,” she teased.
He glanced at her then, his gaze ice-cold as it moved deliberately over her body. “I might be willing to come up with a gift or two for you if that’s what it takes.”
Maia locked her fingers together to keep from smacking him and turned her face away to stare out the window at the white world around her. If not for the injured horse and the thought of the boy waiting for them, she would have told Cole Steele to go to hell, pushed him out of her truck and driven back to town.
Cole felt the silence cut between them like a knife. He preferred quiet. He was never uncomfortable with it. Yet with Maia, he found himself wanting to reach out to her, to bridge the gap he was creating between them. He was fighting for the life he was familiar with, the one he knew and could survive in. He didn’t trust things like laughter and warmth, had never thought about having them for himself until he’d pulled her into his arms and held her against his body. His body had demanded hers, and that should have been enough. No-entanglements sex was all he ever wanted, yet he didn’t think it would be enough with Maia. She touched him in ways that were unexpected, intriguing, and frightening all at the same time.
He turned off the main highway onto the private road that led to the ranch. The snow was heavier than he’d counted on, but he knew every twist and turn. The snowplow had cleared the road before he left for town, but already, the surface was covered with a thick white blanket. He peered out at the snowflakes bursting at the windshield. Maia suddenly tensed and pulled back, making herself smaller in the seat, throwing up a hand to shield her face. A huge owl nearly slammed into the window, wings outstretched and flapping, head back, talons extended as if going in for the kill. It had come at them swiftly and silently, an apparition swooping out of the blinding snow.
The wicked talons reached straight toward Cole’s eyes with only the glass separating them. Beside him, Maia gasped. He swerved, nearly losing traction, a string of curses erupting from him until he felt the tires grip and hold. The owl just cleared the top of the vehicle, and Cole breathed a sigh of relief. The bird had been so close he had been able to see individual feathers on its body.
Maia huddled inside Cole’s jacket, closing her eyes, trying to calm her pounding heart. The owl had shrieked a warning to her, risked its life to caution her to go back. She glanced at Cole’s face, the lines etched deeply there. The owl had flooded her mind with quick, flashing images of violence. It happened so fast, Maia hadn’t gotten a clear glimpse of the animal’s projection. Only the ominous warning. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to sort out what the bird was striving to communicate. Darkness. Horses moving. Men. Flashes of lights that could have been rifle fire. None of it made sense.
“That’s never happened to me before,” Cole said. “Maybe it was confused by the storm. Owls see and hear so well, I imagine accidents would rarely happen.”
“He was in hunting mode.”
Her voice was so low, Cole barely heard her. He flicked a quick glance her way. She looked pale, her eyes clouded with fear.
“I’m a good driver, Maia. I’ll get us there.”
She didn’t answer. Cole sighed. She was doing him a favor, coming out to the ranch in the middle of what was rapidly becoming a mean blizzard. He should have been more polite. She’d probably worked all day, and she had a long, cold night ahead of her, trying to save the horse for Jase.