LITMIR.BIZ

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woman doing out of her tent? He had enough to deal with in rescuing the damned horse. If she went and did something even more stupid than traipsing out into the woods to deliver her baby? Say, like falling and breaking her leg or neck? Then what? He’d be stuck carrying her and the baby home. He rescued. That’s what he did. But that didn’t mean he had to like it.

      Framing his mouth with his hands, he shouted, “Over here!”

      In the Navy, his call sign had been Angel. He’d hated it—especially after his injury. Because most days, he felt chased by demons that left him feeling anything but angelic. He was angry. Depressed. Pissed at his ex. None of which he could do anything about, which was why his new life of solitude suited him just fine.

      He resented this woman for intruding on his privacy. If it weren’t for her, Jelly Bean might have had a successful test run. On the flip side, better to have found out she still wasn’t at 100 percent now, rather than when she carried an inexperienced rider.

      “There you are.”

      “Here I am.” He rounded a corner of the trail to find her looking like one of those yellow toy bathtub ducks in her foul-weather gear. “Why aren’t you with your baby?”

      “I’m rescuing you.”

      He snorted. She’d barely made it fifteen yards from the tent, well within easy earshot to hear if her son made so much as a whimper.

      “Any luck finding your horse?”

      “Does it look like it?”

      “What’s got you so salty?”

      “I’m not,” he lied. “I’m just worried about how we’re going to get you out of here.”

      “Give me a day to rest up, and we’ll hike.” Her hopeful half smile blinded like staring too long into the sun. He blinked. “I’m not sure how, but I remember feeling most at home outdoors. That must be why I came all the way out here even though I was pregnant. Maybe the fall that conked my head brought on my labor?”

      His gaze narrowed. “Wait a minute... If you’re out here without your baby, does that mean you cut his cord?”

      She nodded.

      “I’m impressed.” He really was. She might be loony, but she had spunk. He admired that in a woman.

      She waved off his compliment. “I cleaned that mess in the tent, too, but I’m feeling woozy. Now that I know you’re all right, would you mind if I joined my son in taking a nap?”

      “Not at all. Hell, I might grab some shut-eye, too. In my own sleeping bag, of course.”

      “Of course.” Her cheeks reddened to an adorable degree. Adorable wasn’t the sort of term he typically bandied about, but for her, it fit.

      He held her arm while traversing the last bit of steep trail. He told himself he would have done the same for anyone, but would he? Something about her both annoyed and fascinated him.

      “Mind if I ask you something?” she said.

      “Depends.” Touchy-feely wasn’t his thing.

      “Relax, cowboy.” She covered her mouth while yawning. “I was only going to ask your name.”

      He couldn’t help but chuckle, then paused to extend his hand. “Gideon Snow.”

      “Nice to meet you.” When she pressed her small, cold hand against his, if he hadn’t known better, he could have sworn his heart skipped a beat. Stupid. Corny. Inappropriate. “Wish I had a name to call you. For now,” he said, “let’s call you Jane. You know? Like Jane Doe.”

      She winced. “That’s not very original.”

      “True. But I’m guessing you’ve got family out there missing you. Probably even a husband.”

      She’d withdrawn her hand, and now inspected her empty left-hand ring finger. “I don’t feel married.”

      Good. Because for some inane, selfish, inexplicable reason, he didn’t want her tied to another man. But then considering what a mess she’d made of Gideon’s day that made no sense. Logically, he should have been thrilled to have her and her baby be someone else’s problem.

      The trail widened, and they finished the short walk side by side. The sleet had stopped, but the whole forest sounded as if it were dripping.

      A crow’s sharp call rose above the melting sleet’s patter.

      “Is it just me,” Jane asked with a shiver, “or is it getting colder?”

      “It is,” he said, glad for the distraction from wondering how such a pint-sized woman had found the wherewithal to not only give birth in the forest, but then cut her baby’s umbilical cord before chasing out into the storm.

      She was really something.

      Not that it mattered.

      Gideon wasn’t in the market for female company. That ship had sailed long ago. His contentious divorce guaranteed he’d never again climb aboard the Love Boat.

       Chapter Three

      “That was delicious. Thank you.” Jane couldn’t recall the last time she’d enjoyed a meal more. But then considering the fact that she didn’t know her own name, was that a surprise? The act of eating proved especially enjoyable, because of the normalcy of sharing a meal. If only for a moment, it distracted her from her frightening reality—of literally having zero reality.

      “It was no biggie.” Her cowboy had added water to a packet of dehydrated sweet-and-sour pork. He was right; the shared feast hadn’t required an inordinate amount of culinary skill, but it was hot and filling and for now, that was good enough.

      Before sundown, he’d built up the fire, then moved the tent closer to take advantage of the radiant heat.

      Jane cradled her son, rubbing the underside of her chin along his downy hair. Part of her couldn’t wait to get him back to civilization. Another part was terrified of what that return might find. There had to have been a reason for her to have endangered herself by traipsing off into the woods this late in her pregnancy. It had been not only irresponsible, but just plain dumb. She was lucky they were still alive.

      So why had she done it? A nagging voice told her she didn’t want to know.

      “Do you have kids?” she asked Gideon, eager to change the subject—if only in her own mind.

      “Nope.”

      “I’m assuming you’re not married?”

      “Nope.”

      “Would you ever want to be?”

      “Nope.”

      “Why so fast to respond?” She kissed the crown of her baby’s head. “I’ve only been a mother for a few hours, but this guy’s already got me wrapped around both of his tiny pinkie fingers.”

      “Let’s just say I’ve been there, done that, and learned the hard way that marriage isn’t for me. The only logical conclusion is that parenthood would end with the same dismal results.” He set the foil food packet on the ground beside his log seat, then warmed his hands in front of the fire. He was tall and ruggedly appealing, but not traditionally handsome. His nose was crooked as if it may have been broken. His jaw was too wide and his cheekbones too high. That said, something about the way firelight danced in his brown eyes called to mind s’mores and made her wonder what kind of ugly breakup had resulted in such a bad attitude toward any sort of new relationship.

      Skirting the direct issue, but still curious, she said, “Tell me about your parents.”

      “Not much to tell.” He added a log to the fire. “They’ve passed.”

      “Sorry.”

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