Part 8 (1/2)
Once inside her cottage, she changed out of her slacks and a sweater and into jeans and a sweats.h.i.+rt, but when she went to her closet for her slippers, her gaze lingered on her boots instead. Rather than curl up on the sofa, maybe she'd be better off taking advantage of the suns.h.i.+ne and the early end to her workday by strapping on her snowshoes and heading out for a hike. Strenuous exercise wouldn't hurt her goal of achieving dreamless sleep tonight.
Happy with her plan, Sage donned her boots, then headed for her coat closet and reached for her parka. She startled at the sound of a knock on her door, then remembered the tracks in the snow. The new neighbor.
She shrugged into her coat as she approached the door and opened it with a smile, which immediately died. Colt Rafferty stood on her front porch wearing a devilish smile and holding a measuring cup in his hand.
Sage's heart couldn't help but flutter. The man looked like he belonged out at the Double R Ranch atop a horse instead of riding a bureaucrat's desk in Was.h.i.+ngton, D.C. ”Howdy, neighbor,” he drawled. ”Can I borrow a cup of sugar?”
Sage reacted instinctively and with an uncharacteristic rudeness. ”I don't use refined sugar,” she lied before slamming the door in his face.
She heard the scoundrel laugh, then he returned her rudeness with some of his own by opening the door and stepping inside. ”I had expected something more neighborly from a citizen of Eternity Springs.”
”Feel free to report me to the Chamber of Commerce.” She returned to her coat closet in search of a hat, gloves, and scarf.
”Ah, c'mon, Cinnamon. Why the att.i.tude?”
Sage wrinkled her nose.
”I don't think I deserve the cold shoulder,” he continued. ”Look, I'm sorry if I hurt your feelings earlier. I was teasing you.”
She whirled on him. ”You didn't hurt my feelings.”
”All right. If you say so. In that case, let's talk about Fort Worth. I'd like to understand what happened. It's bothered me ever since. Did I completely misread you? I thought you wanted that kiss.”
Sage sighed. ”I owe you an apology, Rafferty. I'm sorry. What happened had nothing to do with you.”
”See, actually, it did. I was the one kissing you at the time.”
”I know. I'm sorry. Please, don't take it personally.”
”Well, I have to take it personally. It was my mouth.”
He wasn't going to let this go, was he? ”You're a terrier, aren't you?”
”I'm safety engineer, an investigator. I spend my days searching for answers. If someone doesn't give me answers, I have to figure them out on my own.”
”So you're trying to get into my mind? I didn't realize you have a psych degree in addition to all your numerous accolades, Dr. Rafferty.” Sage pulled on a glove. ”I've apologized. I figure that's all I really owe you.”
His slow smile flashed his dimples. ”In my estimation, you owe me another kiss. Sans the scream. Unless, of course, things get really crazy. Usually things get far more intimate before my attentions cause a woman to scream. But I am open to exploring that option if you're game.”
”You're outrageous.”
”And you like to throw around the att.i.tude, don't you?”
”I'm an artist. Att.i.tude is part of the package with artistic types. Look, today I had a bad day creatively, and when that happens, I'm better off not being around people-or safety engineers-until I've rid myself of the mood. So, if you'll excuse me, I need to take a walk.”
”Exercise is a great stress reliever. Want some company?”
Outrageous and persistent. Sage wondered if he was really a used car salesman instead of a safety engineer. Fumbling with her other glove, she said, ”No, thank you. I really need to be alone.”
”Okay, then. Here's an idea.” He paused and scooped up the glove she'd dropped. Handing it to her, he continued, ”You'll feel better after your walk. Why don't you have dinner with me? I put on a pot of chili a little while ago, and believe me, my chili is a treat you don't want to miss.”
”Thank you, but no.” She yanked her stocking cap over her head, opened the door, and smiled. ”Good-bye.”
His blue-lake eyes gleamed, and as his lips twitched with a grin, she had the sense that he'd been playing with her all along. When he strolled past her, he leaned down and brushed a kiss across her cheek before she could dodge it. ”Enjoy your walk, Cinnamon. I'll see you later.”
Then Colt Rafferty strolled casually away-a real feat, considering he had to tromp through snow up to his knees in some places.
As Sage watched him go, rather than the relief she expected, frustration swirled inside her. She felt the need to take one final shot. ”Is that a threat, Rafferty?”
He halted and slowly turned around. The cold air fogged his breath as he called, ”Nope, it's a promise. And while we're on the subject, there are a couple things about me that you should know, darlin', because they're written in stone.”
”Oh, yeah?” she called back, even as she silently asked herself, Why am I acting like a nine-year-old?
”Yeah. And here they are. First, I always keep my promises, and second, Dr. Anderson, I always collect my debts.”
With that, he gave a wave and continued his trek toward his cabin.
Sage blew out a long breath. This could be trouble. He could be trouble.
No, he was trouble. A mountain of trouble. How had he managed to snag the house next door as his rental? That was all she needed!
She watched him through the window as he plowed his way through the snow with relative ease. Those shoulders. That walk. That confidence.
Those blasted dimples.
All within a stone's throw. Or a mad dash. She blew out a breath that fogged the window gla.s.s. Despite the winter chill in the air, she felt flushed.
Lighten up on yourself, Anderson. She wasn't blind. Or dead. A woman would have to be dead not to be affected by Colt Rafferty.
And the audacity of the man! She owed him a kiss? Why, he could kiss her ... Oh, dear.
Now Sage needed exercise more than ever, so she quickly donned her snowshoes and headed out. She walked hard, moving fast, pumping her arms and trying not to think about Colt Rafferty or kisses or how exhausted she was. She refused to think about nightmares. Or Africa. Or Peter. Eventually she worked off her snit and found the peace she was seeking. Some might call it the Zen effect at work. For Sage, it was the magic of Eternity Springs.
She turned and retraced her steps. Now she was able to enjoy and appreciate the beauty of a lakeside hike in a mountain valley on a sunny winter afternoon. She returned home shortly before dusk, weary but relaxed-until she spied the insulated cooler on her porch at the base of her front door.
Tensing, Sage glanced around suspiciously. She expected to see Colt dart out from behind a bush or a tree or pop up from beneath the snow. Energy hummed in her blood, and she was dismayed to realize the sensation wasn't anger or frustration but rather antic.i.p.ation.
Only Colt didn't show. A full minute pa.s.sed, and she was still alone.
Studying the ground, she counted the tracks between her house and his rental. Two sets, coming and going. ”Okay,” she murmured. ”Unless he flew over here, he has come and gone. Good. That's good.”
She insisted to herself that she actually meant it.
She climbed her porch steps, then bent over the cooler and unzipped the lid. Inside, she found a covered stoneware pot wrapped in kitchen towels. The spicy aroma teased her senses and, in spite of her misgivings, brought a smile to her face.
Colt Rafferty had brought her a bowl of chili.
Midmorning the following day, Colt opened the door of the Eternity Springs Veterinary Clinic and stepped inside. ”h.e.l.lo, Mountain Girl.”
Nic Callahan looked up from her paperwork. ”Summer Boy!” She rose to welcome him with a hug. ”This is a lovely surprise. I didn't think you visited Eternity Springs in the off-season.”