The shotgun blast in the distance set Tanya off, her barks ricocheting through the house as I swung open the front door and peered into the falling dark. She raced out to the porch steps, barking with her hackles rising. The old mutt had always been good for security, though not much else. Her sight was almost gone, her back legs gave her trouble in the mornings, but she was still the best damn bedmate I’d ever had.

“Who is it, girl?” I patted her rump then pulled my shawl closer around my shoulders. The wind had been picking up steadily for the past hour, the approaching storm front moving faster than anyone had anticipated.

The door to the weathered cabin near the barn opened and my year-round farmhand Julia strode out. “What the hell was that?”

“Not sure.” I didn’t want to go out into the sage brush if it could be avoided. The weather was deteriorating fast. Then again, if someone was out there stealing cattle, I needed to know. “Maybe it’s Santa stopping by early?” I added with a wry grin.

“Bringing a shotgun instead of candy canes?” Julia walked to the steps, her limp a little less pronounced, the crow’s feet next to her eyes crinkling as she peered up at me. “Reckon I should go take a look?”

A gust blew by and kicked up some fine grit as we both looked into the night.

“The weather isn’t going to hold.” I shook my head. “But I have to check it out.”

“I’ll do it.” She took a step toward her cabin.

“No, your leg needs another month. If it doesn’t heal right, Doc said he’d have to send you to Denver for surgery.” I couldn’t risk her, not now. She was an experienced rancher, a widow who’d taken the spot at my ranch when I needed her most. I never got her backstory, and that was fine with me. I was concerned with the future. She seemed to be, too. I had to keep her in good shape to get through the winter and all the work the spring would bring. “I’ll head out there.”

“I can ride.” She was stubborn, too.

“I know. But I want you watching the homestead. If it’s rustlers, we’ll be in a world of shit if we’re both stuck out in the sage when the storm hits. One of us needs to stay here and call for help if it comes to it.”

She shook her head. “I don’t like it.”

“Neither do I.” I turned to walk back in the house and get ready.

“Hold up.”

“What?” I glanced behind me.

“Something’s coming.”

Tanya barked, and I peered into the darkness. A series of thudding steps carried on the wind.

“Horse,” Julia said just as I thought the same thing.

We’d put all our horses in the barn earlier in the afternoon before the weather turned.

I walked down the steps and toward the wooden fence at the edge of the homestead. A brown horse galloped toward me, the dark saddle on its back empty.

“That’s Ingram’s horse, Slingshot.” Julia caught up to me.

The beast slowed and trotted up to the fence line. It nickered as I reached out to run a hand along its nose. Alarm bells sounded in my mind. I needed to get out there, to find Ingram. What the hell was going on? If he was trying to rustle my cattle, he’d picked a piss-poor night to do it. Julia and I had packed our prize animals in the barn and put the others in a pen protected with windbreaks on the other side of the homestead. It was the only way to keep them alive during the coming storms.

“I’ll get my gear. Hang on to him till I get back.” I hurried into the house and pulled on my boots, a winter coat, my hat, and grabbed a flashlight before heading back outside. Julia was comforting Slingshot as I walked up, hopped the fence, stowed my shotgun in the empty holster along his side, then mounted the horse.

“I’ve got the radio in my pocket. I’ll let you know what’s going on when I find out. If you don’t hear from me in half an hour, call the sheriff. If you hear any more shots, call the sheriff.”

“I still don’t like it.” She gripped the top of the fence, her hands tanned from a life lived outdoors.

“I’ll be back.” I dug my heels in lightly. Slingshot didn’t complain, and instead, turned and took off the way he’d come.

Another blast of Arctic air whipped through me and rattled the barn doors. The horses inside whinnied, then settled down as we passed. Night had fallen quickly, and the approaching clouds obscured what little moonlight there was. It was not a night to be out on the hills.

“Ingram, you better be dead or dying.” I pulled my hat down low to block the wind.

I urged Slingshot onward, and he picked up his pace as we entered the open range. He was surefooted, and though I’d never ridden him before, he took instruction well. My thoughts returned to his owner. Ingram Brady had become an institution in this area ever since his father died and he took over the ranch next door. I’d known him when I was a teenager, but never more than as my father’s friend. He was a good ten years older than I was, which always put him into the “grown-up” category in my young mind. I was too busy planning to go to college to bother with the next-door neighbor who seemed intently driven for his ranch to succeed. He was all business, and if I had been more interested in boys at the time, I would’ve realized how handsome he was. But I didn’t care. I intended to leave the ranch behind and make my way in Chicago, or New York, or some foreign locale.

I shook my head. All those best laid plans, in the end, amounted to two degrees, no real career prospects, and multiple jobs waiting tables and serving coffee. When my father died, I returned to the ranch. It brought up a tornado of memories, many of them sad. The death of my mother, chief among them. But there were happy ones, too. Pop and I keeping my mom’s gingerbread house tradition going every Christmas—even though our houses turned into lopsided structures with ridiculous amounts of icing, or the familiar scent of my father’s pipe. The whole time I’d lived here, I thought my future was somewhere else, somewhere “out there.”

But when I returned to the ranch—and to my utter shock—I realized this was my true home. The land, the animals, and the people gave my heart a sense of comfort I hadn’t felt since I left. So, I stayed and took over the ranch.

Slingshot labored up the side of a deep ravine and came out at the top of a small ridge that ran a few hundred feet along the backside of the acreage.

“Where is he?” I knew Ingram was out here. Despite my earlier curses, I hoped he wasn’t in bad shape, but the riderless horse didn’t bode well.

He trotted along the ridge and dipped down into another ravine, his pace slowing as he approached the bottom. A groan met my ears as Slingshot skidded to a stop.

I trained my flashlight along the scrub and found Ingram lying on his back, one hand rubbing down his face as he tried to sit up. “What the hell happened to you?”

“Get that fucking light out of my face.”

“Nice to see you too, Ingram.” I dismounted and walked over to him. “How bad are you hurt?”

“I’ll be fine.” He sat up and shot a hard look at Slingshot. “You just run off at the first sign of trouble?”

“He came to find help. You should be thanking him.”

His gaze slid over to me, and his eyes narrowed. “You’re ‘help’, huh?” He grabbed his knee and winced.

I focused the beam of the flashlight on his leg and knelt down next to him. “Are you going to tell me what happened or are you going to keep being a grumpy ass?” A touch of cold landed on the back of my neck. Snowflakes appeared in the beam of the flashlight.

“Grumpy ass?” His voice was the same growl I remembered from ten years ago—low and scratchy like a patch of tumbleweed.

“If the shoe fits.” It did.

He continued grumbling and winced when he shifted his leg. “Rattlesnake spooked Slingshot. I killed it, but got thrown in the process.”

I ran my hand along his knee, his jeans ripped from the fall from his horse.

He groaned again. “It’s fine. Leave it.”

Stubborn ass. “If it’s fine, then get up and get off my property.” I stood and crossed my arms. “What are you doing over here anyway? Looking for some cattle?”

A scowl that could melt rock crossed his face. “There you go accusing me again with that smart mouth.”

“I’m not the one trespassing.” Did I truly suspect that he was responsible for the missing cattle? No. Did I enjoy riling him up about it? Definitely.

“I come over here to do the right thing, the neighborly thing, and this is what I get.” He struggled up until he was balanced on his right knee. “You’re right. I should’ve stayed on my property instead of coming over here to warn you about the rustlers.”

“Rustlers?” As if he didn’t already have my attention, that word got it.

He leveled his gaze on me, the square lines of his shadowy jaw thrown into relief as the faint moonlight played across his face. “That’s the reason I’m over here.” He tried to put his left foot down and push himself up, but didn’t make it off the ground. “Shit.”

I sighed and leaned down to grab his arm and help him up.

“I don’t need your help, woman.” His voice dropped lower, and his thick bicep flexed under my palms.

I’d never been this close to him, except perhaps the one time in the co-op when I teased him. Rugged, handsome, but disagreeable as all hell. There was a reason he lived alone. But none of that stopped the slight rev in my heartbeat as I strengthened my grip on his arm and helped him up.

“I told you I’m fine.” He tried to take a step, but faltered.

I slung his arm over my shoulders and shored him up. He smelled like leather and hay and a hard day’s work.

“Can you ride?” I whistled Slingshot over.

“Of course I can ride.” The gruffness increased, but I suspected it was just a way to hide the pain. “I was riding before you were born.”

“I started riding at three. And I can guarantee you I’m a better rider than you are.”

“You won a few barrel races when you were fifteen. That doesn’t make you a better rider.”

“No?” I eased him over to Slingshot’s side. “How many barrel races have you won?”

He shot me a sideways glance and, instead of answering, heaved himself onto Slingshot’s back. His hand shot out, though he didn’t look at me, and I grabbed it and climbed up behind him.

“None. That’s what I thought.” My hips pressed against him thanks to the curve of the saddle. I clicked on the radio. “Julia?”

Her voice crackled back. “What’s going on out there?”

“Ingram fell off his horse.”

He shook his head and a litany of profanity rolled from his tongue as I grinned and depressed the radio button again. “I’m bringing him back. He’s got an injured knee, so lay out the first aid kit in my living room and, if you don’t mind, stoke the fire for us.”

“You got it, boss.”

The snow had begun in earnest, fat flakes drifting to the ground and creating a dusty white on top of the brown earth. Before long, the snow would be cold, deep, and dangerous. He turned the horse toward his property.

“Hey, we’re going to my place.” I wrapped my arms loosely around his waist.

“No. I’m going to my place, and I’ll drive you home after.”

Has there ever been such a stubborn man? “No. We’re going to my place so I can see to that leg of yours and then I’ll drive you and Slingshot home.”

“I’d rather just ride home.”

“Ingram, if you don’t turn Slingshot around and ride to my homestead, there’s a very good chance I will shove you off this horse and leave you out here.”

He snorted. “Not in your wildest daydream, darlin’.”

I reached down and slapped his bad knee.

“Ow!” He hissed out a breath. “Jesus, woman!”

“Don’t call me darling. Now let’s go.”

He complained for a straight ten seconds before turning the horse around and heading up the ravine toward my homestead.

Slingshot handled the terrain well, but the snow was coming down hard and fast. I snuggled in closer to Ingram’s back so the flakes wouldn’t fall between us. Our hats and coats kept us pretty dry, though my hands began to tingle from the cold halfway home. I stretched out my fingers and balled them into fists a few times to get the blood flowing. Ingram noticed, because he grabbed my hands and shoved them inside his coat with another grumble.

I spread my fingers along his warm abs, the flannel of his shirt soft beneath my fingertips. “Thanks.”

He didn’t respond, just spurred Slingshot to walk a little faster through the sagebrush.

With very little moonlight and heavy snow, we were already approaching whiteout conditions. I didn’t realize we were so close to the house until the fence appeared through the haze of white.

“Left.” I pulled my hand from the warmth of his jacket and pointed toward the nearest opening in the fence.

He took the direction and walked Slingshot into the yard and up to the porch.

Julia opened the front door and walked down to us. “Ingram, what a pleasure as always.”

He mirrored her sarcastic tone. “Good to see you again, Julia.”

“Can you get Slingshot set up in the barn?” I slid off his back and down to the ground, immediately missing Ingram’s body heat. “He’s been a real good boy, so toss some apples his way while you’re at it.”

“No problem.” Julia rubbed his nose.

Ingram struggled to get out of the saddle, but when I reached up to help, he pushed my hands away. He landed on his right leg with a wince and almost went down, but I grabbed around his middle and supported him.

“Help me get him in the house first, please.” I draped his left arm over my shoulder while Julia got his right.

We walked him up the stairs as he let out another colorful string of curses that would’ve made my father proud. The ornaments on my small Christmas tree jingled as we struggled past with Ingram between us. Tanya let out a few low barks from her seat next to the fire, but she didn’t make any effort to investigate further. Since she’d first belonged to my father, she’d known Ingram for quite some time.

Once Ingram was settled on the couch in front of the fire, Julia asked if we needed anything else before she took care of Slingshot.

“I don’t know. Would you happen to have a gag? Maybe you could bring me a muzzle for him?” I glanced over my shoulder and caught Ingram’s withering gaze.

Julia laughed. “Good luck with all that. Just let me know if you need anything else.”

“We’ll be fine. Go hunker down in the cabin for the night. It’s going to be a cold one.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Icy wind swirled inside when she opened the door, but dissipated once it was closed tight again.

I turned to Ingram and peeled off my jacket. “Let’s assess the damage.”

His gaze raked my body, and an unexpected thrill shot through me. I already knew that Ingram was a handsome man, but in the low light of the fire and with a little bit more than a 5 o’clock shadow on his jaw, he was a rugged stunner. Especially when he looked at me like that, his eyes slightly hooded and his attention fixed on every curve I had to offer.

He cleared his throat and met my eyes. “You got any whiskey?”