“Smart girl,” Stevie said with a smile as she put the sofa to rights. “It’s cold out there.” She refilled the coffeepot with water, added coffee grounds to it, and set it on the stove. The coffee would probably taste like crap, but it had to be better than the road tar they had in the dorm when she was in grad school.
You need to really talk to Cody, not just argue and dance around this attraction. Her mother’s voice was in her head.
“We will when the time is right.” Stevie missed her mother so much. After the funeral a few months ago, she’d thought she would find closure, but it hadn’t happened—not yet.
* * *
“Women!” Cody muttered as he picked up Stevie’s duffel bag from the van. “They don’t ever forget anything.” He went to the sliding door and pushed it open a couple of inches to see just how fast the snow was falling. He could see tree limbs on the other side of the lane, which meant the storm was slowing down slightly. He started to shove the door closed, when he caught a blur of movement in his peripheral vision. The black-and-white kitten made a jump through the open space and landed on top of the snow banked up against the door. Another leap and the little ball of fur disappeared completely into the snowdrift.
Cody had only planned on making a quick trip to the van and back, so he hadn’t put on his gloves. But he couldn’t let Boots freeze to death out there in the snow. After all, he and Boots were the only two guys in the barn, and Cody felt like he could use all the support he could get. He dropped Stevie’s bag on the barn floor and opened the door just wide enough that he could slip out. Snow came up over his boot tops and filtered right down to his toes. He strained his ears, trying to hear the kitten’s cries, but couldn’t hear a thing except the tree limbs still breaking all around him. Snow clung to his eyelashes and his hair, and his hands were already freezing. He was about to give up, when he saw a slight indentation about two feet ahead of him, but snow was already filling in the hole.
Instantly, he was down on his knees and shoving his bare hand down into the cold snow, searching for the kitten. After feeling around and finding nothing, he thought he heard a slight meow. The sound was faint, but it was definitely a kitten, and it was coming from behind him. He turned to find Dolly and her other two babies at the doorway, staring at him as if they were begging him to find Boots.
“I’m trying.” He raised his voice and then noticed another little indentation six inches ahead of him. He reached out and sunk his hand into the snow again, found fur this time, and brought up Boots all covered in snow and limp as a dishrag.
Cody tucked the kitten into his coat close to his chest, hurried back inside the barn, and pushed the door shut. Dolly and her other two kittens went running to the safety of the tack room, and barely beat Cody.
“Boots got out of the barn and fell in a snowdrift. I tried to get to him faster but…” He laid the kitten on the sofa and jerked his coat off.
Stevie was all over the place. She grabbed Boots and carried him to the back of the stove, where Dixie was sleeping, and then picked up the edge of the blanket and began to rub the kitten’s fur.
Cody dropped to his knees beside her. “He wasn’t in the snow more than two minutes, tops. Is he alive? I never should have opened the door.”
Stevie ignored his question, which made Cody wonder if there was hope for the kitten.
“What can I do?” he asked.
“Keep the barn door closed,” Stevie said. “You must have gotten him just as he went under because there’s no snow in his nose. That’s a good sign. Water in the nose could mean sinus and lung problems later. He’s just scared and cold. Look, he’s opening his eyes. Time for Dixie to be a good big sister.” Stevie tucked the kitten against Dixie’s belly, and then Dolly made her way over to him. “It’s a good thing you saw him run out of the barn. Now about your hands…”
Cody held out his hands. They were bright red and tingling. Another few minutes and he might have suffered frostbite. “They’ll warm up in a little while.”
Stevie rolled up on her feet, went to the worktable, and came back with his gloves. She warmed them on top of the stove for just a minute and then stretched them onto his hands. Even though his fingers felt like icicles, her touch shot desire through his body.
“Don’t reckon I could get you to pull my boots off?” he asked. “The snow went over the tops, and…”
“Good God! Did you roll in the snow?” Stevie asked.
“Nope, just crawled in it. I couldn’t let a kitten freeze to death,” he answered. “Are you sure he’s going to be okay?”
Stevie nodded toward Boots, who was now up and nursing on his mother. “He’s fine, but you’ve got to come out of those jeans as well as your boots.”
“And what am I going to wear?” he asked.
“I’ve got a pair of sweatpants and extra socks in my go bag. They’ll keep you warm while your jeans and socks get dry, but they are pink,” she answered as she set about removing his boots and socks. “You’re a doctor. You know how fast frostbite can set in when you’re wet like this. You should have taken all this off while I was working on Boots. Now, you need to get those wet jeans off.” She set his cowboy boots beside the stove and started for the door.
“And let you see me half-naked?” Both his eyebrows shot up.
“This is not the time to joke around,” she threw over her shoulder as she closed the door behind her.
“Day one, and I have to wear pink sweats,” he muttered as he shuffled into the bathroom to take off his wet jeans. “I hope Jesse doesn’t get here before my jeans get dry.”
“Cody? Where are you?” Stevie raised her voice.
“Bathroom.” He cracked the door and held out a hand.
She put a rolled-up pair of sweats in his hand, and he quickly closed the door. He laid everything on the back of the toilet, unrolled the gray sweats and found the toothpaste and brush.
“These are not pink,” he said as he looked in the mirror. “I’ll get back at you for this, Stevie.”
Most blond-haired men couldn’t grow much of a beard, but Cody was the exception, and a day’s worth of his stubble was equivalent to a week for most men. His hair stuck up in all directions, and his eyes had bags under them. He pulled a comb out of the hip pocket of his jeans and tamed his hair with a little water, brushed his teeth, and wished for his electric razor.
“At least Jesse won’t find me in pink sweats,” he said with a grin.
The sweats were soft and warm, like Stevie had been when he held her in his arms those few months they had dated. He’d missed that feeling when he went to college—maybe even more than he’d missed his family, because he could talk to them anytime he wanted.
Stevie had caught his eye back in junior high school, but it had taken him several years to get up the nerve to ask her out. Looking back, maybe it would have been best if he hadn’t ever made that first phone call after they had started school that fall of his senior year. By spring, he had really developed feelings for her, and knew that he had to choose between his dream and Stevie. He couldn’t ask her to give up her plans, and Doctors Without Borders didn’t need veterinarians.