The hay was half gone, but there was enough to keep the cattle happy until nightfall. He shoved the rest of the bale out into the lean-to and shut the doors tightly behind it. He fed the hogs, gathered the eggs, and then milked the cow.
Sage still wasn’t awake when he took the milk inside, so he strained it and put it away. And that’s when the cranky mood hit him. If he was home in Ringgold during a snowstorm, he’d spend time in the tack room or in the barn working on equipment. Or he’d go up to the Chicken Fried Café and talk to the other ranchers in the area. One day was his limit when it came to sitting still all day, and he damn sure didn’t look forward to day two of it.
He poured a cup of coffee but didn’t strip out of his outdoor clothing. Instead he carried the cup with him to the back door and turned to look at Noel. She’d huddled down into her blanket with a paw over her nose. It didn’t look like she had any intentions of going back out into the storm, so he went without her.
He eased into the barn and shut the door behind him, lit two Coleman lanterns, and grabbed a wide push broom. Part of the barn floor was dirt, but the majority of it was concrete and it was strewn with hay. He leaned on the broom and noticed that the small hay bales needed straightening. He set the broom to one side and went to work on them. Anything to work the crabbiness out; and it had nothing to do with the fact that he’d missed getting a kiss he wanted or that he’d dreamed of Sage all night.
He’d come to the Panhandle to get away from all women, not to be mesmerized by one female.
* * *
Sage didn’t have to wait for the grumpy mood to hit her. She awoke with it already in full swing. Not even hot coffee waiting on the back of the stove relieved the antsy feeling in her chest. Usually when she got like this she took her paints, and a bologna sandwich, and went to the backside of the canyon to paint from daylight to dark. But that wasn’t possible in a snowstorm.
She rubbed Angel’s fur and scratched Noel’s ears, but that didn’t help. She wanted Creed to get up and talk to her. That’s when she noticed the milk bucket in the dish drainer and the cheesecloth strainer draped over it, so Creed had been up long enough to do the chores.
Where was he? If the chores were done, why wasn’t he back in the house? Had one day with her been all he could stand? Was he inching his way up out of the canyon in his truck on his way back to greener pastures?
She stepped into her coveralls and put her boots on, picked up an old felt hat of Grand’s, and slung the door open. Noel didn’t make a move, so evidently she’d already been out that morning.
She found him stacking hay. The barn floor was clean enough to eat off of and smelled fresh instead of like two-day-old cow crap. “You plannin’ on eatin’ breakfast this morning?”
He didn’t look around or slow down. “Is it ready?”
“Hell, no!”
“Then I don’t guess I’m ready to eat.”
“Who pissed in your coffee this morning?” she asked.
“Same four-legged critter that pissed in yours, I have a suspicion.”
She popped her gloved hands on her hips and asked, “You are mad at the animals? What did they do?”
“Think about it,” he answered without stopping work.
She grabbed him by the arm and swung him around. “I wanted that kiss too, but you damn sure didn’t try a second time, so don’t be blamin’ the dog.”
A smile tickled the corners of his mouth. He swiped his felt hat off with a flourish, tossed it on a hay bale, and drew her close with one arm. “If that pesky dog jumps up on us, ignore it.”
“Yes, sir!” she said breathlessly as he ran the back of his rough hand down her cheek and tangled his hands in her dark hair.
His lips met hers in a fiery clash with enough heat to melt every drop of snow in the canyon. Tongue met tongue in a mating dance that left them both breathless and still wanting more. She’d had passionate kisses before, but Creed wasn’t just kissing her, he was making love to her with his lips and tongue. She could actually feel her boots leave the cold concrete floor and float toward the rafters.
He drew back and she thought he mumbled her name, but it could have just been a moan like what came from her throat when he nuzzled inside the collar of the coveralls and strung kisses from her ear all the way back to her lips.
That kiss was even hotter than the first one. She tried to think of a kiss in the past that had turned her knees to jelly and erased every sane thought from her mind. But her mind had shut down and her body had taken over. The fickle thing wanted to sling all its clothing off and feel more than Creed Riley’s hands on her neck and his body pressed to hers so tight that even the north wind couldn’t find a way to get between them.
She’d had kisses, but she’d never had one that made her completely crazy with want. She’d have to keep her distance from him for sure because if one make-out session in a freezing cold barn could create so much heat, they’d burn the house down if they ever tumbled into a bed.
Or better yet, wrapped up in a blanket in front of the
