Snowbound Baby. SUSAN MEIER

to hear you call her a man.” Zoe drew a quick, bolstering breath. “I didn’t realize the storm was as bad as it was or I would have looked for shelter, not called someone to come and get me.”

      He shook his head, and didn’t even try to hide his smirk. “Right.”

      She gaped at him. “What kind of experience do you have with women anyway?”

      “Enough to know that the really good-looking ones take advantage of their assets.”

      This time her mouth fell open. “As if good-looking men are any better! I married a good-looking man and he left me alone to have his baby. While I was fighting morning sickness and wondering how I’d pay the bills, he used his assets to very quickly replace me, as if to prove to me he didn’t need me. So don’t stand there like the pot calling the kettle black.”

      Clearly exasperated with her, he said, “Look, I’m—”

      Zoe didn’t want to hear what he had to say. The best way to prove she could handle any problem that came along would simply be to do it. To hell with him and his opinion. “Save your piddly explanation for someone who cares. You and your thermos of coffee can go upstairs. I want a good man, not just a good-looking man. You and your assets aren’t needed down here.”

      Chapter Two

      At the top of the steps Cooper found two bedrooms. He peered into the first, which had two single beds, then looked into the second and found a queen-sized bed with a thick comforter.

      If the huge bed hadn’t won him over, the thought of being wrapped in a comforter would have. His toes had long ago frozen. He didn’t think the inside of his nose would ever be the same and he was sure his Arkansas-transplanted-to-Texas bones now had ice chips for marrow.

      He tossed his backpack on the dusty dresser and sat on the bed to pull off his work boots and rub his feet. Though he had ratcheted up the furnace, the house wouldn’t be warm for a while, if it truly heated up at all in the face of the biting wind. He massaged his sock-covered feet, trying to increase circulation, but in the quiet of the bedroom, he could hear Zoe Montgomery’s movements below him.

      Guilt tapped him on the shoulder, but he ignored it. He hadn’t come upstairs because he liked to be alone. That was just a perk. He’d left to show her she was perfectly safe with him. She was a pretty girl with a face and figure that could set any man to drooling, and her physical appearance probably caused most men to make at least one pass at her. That was the best explanation for why she was skeptical of help from a man. Undoubtedly lots of the men who had offered her assistance in the past had counted upon something in return—most likely sex.

      But Cooper wasn’t interested. Well, he was interested if she was looking for a quick roll in the hay. But he was just about positive she wasn’t. She’d admitted in her parting shot that her marriage had failed, so she was available. But she’d also said she wanted a good man, not merely a good-looking man, and when a woman said that it usually meant she was seeking a commitment. Rolls in the hay were not commitment-based. The way Cooper had it figured, she was one of those women who was searching for that special man who could make her trust again.

      And Cooper was not anybody’s special man so it was best to nip that fairy tale in the bud. God only knew how long they would be stranded together. Having felt the sting of the cold and seen the rapid rate of the snowfall, he was beginning to understand the biggest difference between a “storm” and a “blizzard” was that storms were a nuisance and blizzards were deadly. Smart people stayed indoors for the duration of a blizzard.

      On top of that, as a trucker, Cooper had enough experience with highways and departments of transportation to realize that rarely traveled, two-lane roads used for shortcuts weren’t the first to be cleared. He and Zoe were stuck in this house for the next twenty-four hours—at least. His actual guess was that they were here for the weekend. He didn’t anticipate getting back to his truck before Monday morning.

      But as long as he and Zoe had minimal contact, that might not be a problem. It was December twelfth. Though his brothers had bought the mortgage to his ranch and given him until Christmas to pay it off, he still had thirteen days. It would take him three to deliver his load and only another two to drive his certified check to Arkansas and put it in the hands of his brothers’ lawyer. He had absolutely no intention of placing the check in Ty’s hands, as he had been instructed in the letter advising him his brothers were calling in his debt. No court in the land would side with them if they tried to take his ranch just because he’d given the check to the lawyer, rather than directly to his brother.

      Thirteen days was plenty of time. Technically, he had eight days of wiggle room. The storm wouldn’t last eight days. The department of transportation crews wouldn’t forget this road for eight days. There was no reason to be concerned about being stranded for a day or two. Particularly since he already had the check in hand.

      Thinking about the check made him reach for his backpack. His partner wasn’t involved in his family’s feud, so Cooper had taken it upon himself to find the money for the balance of the mortgage. He’d cashed in his savings account and IRA, and had been forced to use the herd money, but he had almost every dime. All he needed was the pay from this delivery to add to the certified check. Then his brothers couldn’t hurt him anymore. He’d never again be so stupid as to give them an opportunity like a mortgage to find him.

      He unlatched the closure of the backpack, lifted the lid and slid his hand inside to get the white envelope containing the check he’d had prepared at the bank. When his fingers found only two sandwiches, a coffee Thermos and a Twix bar, his heart stopped and he dumped the contents of his backpack on the bed.

      But as everything came tumbling out, he remembered he had put the check in the safe in his truck. A new kind of panic tightened his chest. But he reminded himself the truck was locked. Hell, the safe was locked and it was hidden, camouflaged as the seat back. On top of that, conditions outside weren’t fit for man or beast. Nobody was going anywhere near his truck. His money was fine. There was absolutely no reason to freak out.

      He sighed. He might not freak out, but he sure as hell couldn’t feel comfortable about leaving a check worth hundreds of thousands of dollars in an abandoned vehicle. Still, since there was nothing he could do about that until morning, there was no sense dwelling on it.

      After eating his sandwiches and returning the candy bar to his backpack, he lay down on the bed and angled his Stetson over his eyes, but from downstairs he heard the baby cry. The sound got louder and louder until little Daphne was screaming, sounding like she was testing out her lungs.

      Cooper squeezed his eyes shut. Great. As if it wasn’t bad enough he had a constant niggle of doubt about whether his check was safe, he was stuck with an oversensitive woman and a crying baby. If he had any tolerance for cold at all, he’d go back to his truck, get his money and find another cabin.

      But he couldn’t handle the cold and it was getting dark, too dangerous to go outside even for a few minutes. He took a breath, pretending he couldn’t hear the crying baby or the soothing voice of her mom and that he truly believed no one would steal his money, but he knew it would be a long, long night.

      When Cooper opened his eyes again, muted light was edging into his bedroom through the dusty blinds on the window, and he bounced up in bed. He’d chosen this room for the thick comforter, but had drifted to sleep on top of the covers and spent the night without it.

      He couldn’t believe he’d fallen into such a deep slumber that he hadn’t heard a screaming baby. Positive that something had happened—like maybe the storm had stopped and his roomie had gotten curious about what he had in his truck—Cooper rolled out of bed, bounded down the stairs and made the sharp left into the kitchen.

      Zoe stood at the sink, washing dishes. Without turning around she said, “Don’t worry. I didn’t run out to your truck and plunder for valuables. The baby’s just asleep.”

      He stiffened. The clock on the stove said seven-fifteen. It had only been light for about twenty minutes. If she’d