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“Could you describe pliers to me?”
To my surprise, he smiles. “Umm, they look kind of like scissors, but they come together in a clamp instead of a blade.”
“Oh, yes! I see them.” I grab what he’s describing and hand it to him.
“Thank you,” he says, still smirking to himself as he works.
Lincoln continues fixing each strand of wire on the fence, calmly describing each tool he needs. He’s patient with me, just like he was when we were building the jumps.
He’s so hot and cold, I can’t make sense of him.
As he works, the wind picks up. The breeze grows so cold; it chills me to the bone and stings my eyes. I should’ve heeded Lincoln’s warning about the weather and grabbed Hank’s coat for security. But I was stubborn and wanted to prove I know as much as he does. But I don’t—not when it comes to living in the mountains. It wasn’t cold this morning when I left my cabin; I was perfectly comfortable in my pants and vest, but the wind cooled the temperature considerably.
I bite down hard to keep my teeth from chattering, wishing I was enveloped in Hank’s thick coat. Lincoln is almost finished with the fence, but we still have the hour-long ride back to the main property.
He finally finishes with the fence repair and stands to his full height, dusting his gloves on his work jeans before removing them. One snowflake flutters through the wind above me, then swirls through the air to land right on the tip of my nose.
The snowflake seems to mock me. Don’t you wish you would’ve listened to Lincoln?
Lincoln’s body stills; then he tips his chin up toward the sky, watching as more snowflakes come down.
He turns to look at me, his face falling before he rushes in my direction.
“Shit, you must be freezing.” Lincoln removes his coat and pulls it over my shoulders. The fabric is warm and comforting for about two seconds before I’m freezing again. He’s left in an insulated waffle-knit covered by a plaid button-down.
At least he dressed in layers…like a smart person.
“I’m s-s-sorry,” I say through chattering teeth. “I s-s-should have listened.”
Unceremoniously, he pulls me into his arms, running his hands up and down my back to warm me up. “Shit, we still have the ride back,” he mutters. “The snow is getting heavier.”
I glance up from my comfortable burrow of warm man to see the snowflakes are steadily coming down now, blanketing the pasture in a layer of white. It’d be pretty if I wasn’t worried about frostbite.
Lincoln releases me from his hold. “Let me pack up quick, then we’ll ride together on Kitty. She’s big enough for both of us.”
“W-w-what about Dolly?”
“She’ll follow closely. Riding together will keep you warmer,” he says firmly, turning and stalking toward Kitty and guiding her back to the area where he was working. He quickly packs everything up in the saddle bag connected to Kitty’s saddle, then he slides onto her back.
He does all of this while I can’t even feel my legs.
Lincoln then reaches down for my hand, and I muster the strength to grab a hold. He pulls me easily up in the saddle in front of him with his large, capable hands.
His warmth seeps through the layers between us, as toasty as a furnace against my back. I don’t know how I’ll last for an hour, though. How long does it take for frostbite to make your toes fall off? I’ll probably lose several during this ride back to the main property.
“There’s an old hunting lodge nearby. We’ll go there and see if Hank left any cold weather gear. If not, I’ll start a fire and we’ll keep warm until the snow stops.” His deep voice rumbles close to my ear. The heat of his breath against my neck feels so nice.
“Okay,” I breathe out. Despite the freezing temperatures—and the threat of losing my toes—my body hums with his nearness.
CHAPTER 18
Hattie
I close my eyes against the brutal wind as we move at a steady pace along the creek. It’s probably only twenty minutes before we come to a stop and I open my eyes again. Lincoln slides off Kitty, then leads the mares into a tiny barn where there’s plenty of straw on the ground. Lincoln closes the barn door to block the wind, then grabs my waist and helps me off Kitty’s back.
I can barely move; my limbs feel so frozen. The only thing I can do is stand there and feel embarrassed for being such an idiot.
He turns and removes Kitty and Dolly’s saddles, draping them both over a rickety old wall. The man is unstoppable, moving efficiently while I stand there and shiver. He’s like a superhero, and his superpowers are competence and the ability to stay warm.
