The Maverick's Snowbound Christmas. Karen Smith Rose

and the attention.

      “What about the kitten?” he asked. “Should I just put her down?”

      “Do you have a box and maybe an old blanket? We can make her a better bed. After she eats, she might sleep there, depending on the mom.”

      “You said they need to be tested. What are you testing for?”

      “Feline leukemia and FIV.”

      “And if they have it?”

      “We’ll talk after they’re tested. No use jumping the gun.”

      Eli handed Hadley the kitten, understanding that she dealt with this every day—clients bringing pets for her care, clients losing pets, clients hoping Hadley could make everything better. He found the food, then emptied a box that held old tack that needed repair. In no time, he’d created a bed with a fleece saddle pad.

      Eli searched for something they could use for dishes. He borrowed the lid to a jar that held organic cookie treats for the horses. It was big enough that both mom and kitten could eat from it.

      Handing it to Hadley along with a bottle of water from a case on the floor, he said, “This is the best I could do.”

      “This will work great. Are you sure you’ve never done this before?”

      “There’s a first time for everything.”

      When their eyes met, Eli thought he caught a flash of attraction in Hadley’s brown gaze. He knew he was feeling it. Maybe it was just the idea of being cooped up during a snowstorm that made their awareness of each other so intense.

      “I’ll check on Amber,” he said gruffly and exited the tack room to do just that.

      Hadley told herself to focus on what she was doing while Eli checked on his horse. Why did her gaze want to follow him? Eli drew her eyes to him like he was a magnet and she was the weakest piece of metal. It wasn’t just his broad shoulders, though they were broad. It wasn’t his slim hips and his flat stomach under his vest, though she could imagine a six-pack under his flannel shirt. It wasn’t his long legs encased in jeans that fit oh, so well. How often had she seen cowboys in jeans? Eli’s jeans looked as if they were comfortable, worn white in some places. She had to stop sneaking peeks at him.

      Focusing on the cat food and the water, she mixed it together in the lid. As soon as she lowered it to the floor, momma cat was there instantly and so was baby. Only baby seemed to be having a hard time of it. Not used to eating food from a dish? That was easily fixed.

      Hadley dipped her finger into the mixture and held it to the kitten’s nose. The kitten’s little pink tongue snuck out and lapped at her finger. The hairs on the nape of her neck prickled, and she felt Eli’s presence as soon as he was near. It wasn’t his shadow. It wasn’t the soapy leather scent that seemed to surround him. It was just...him. He was back and watching her.

      Hadley knew about the cowboy kind. She’d dated a few. They were hardworking, but often narrow-minded, never looking at the world around them, only at the world they knew.

      Eli hunkered down next to her and lifted the cat food can. “It looks like she needs a little more.” He forked more food into the lid, his arm bumping hers.

      Hadley poured more water from the bottle and almost spilled it. Being this close to Eli made her feel a bit shaky. How crazy was that?

      “Do you really think they’ll sleep in the box?” he asked.

      As she turned to face him, her body was close to his. She took in the details of his face, the lines around his eyes, the slight furrow in his brow. There was a light scar on the left side of his cheek, and her fingers suddenly itched to touch it.

      No, no, no, she told herself, turning away from him. She murmured, “They might. If Momma thinks it’s cuddly, warm and safe.”

      Giving her attention once more to the momma cat and baby, she saw the kitten was eating from the dish now, having gotten the idea from tasting the food on Hadley’s finger.

      Feeling suddenly nervous around Eli, she needed something to say. “They’ll probably sleep after they eat. If you put the box right near those shelves where they were, they’ll probably settle there. They’re creatures of habit just as we are.”

      She used a bit of the water to wash her fingers, and then wiped them on a napkin. She went to her bag that she’d dropped on the desk and took out a vial of antibacterial gel that needed no water and rubbed it on her hands. Then she hurriedly left the tack room to check on Eli’s mustang.

      Immediately, Hadley saw that Amber didn’t seem to be in any distress. Maybe Eli had been all wrong about a problem with labor. Maybe she should leave while she could.

      On the other hand, she sighed at the thought of being around a whole boardinghouse full of Stricklands. Maybe the truth was that it was getting harder to keep her secret from her family. In some ways, she wanted to talk to her sisters about it. Yet in others, she still felt ashamed and foolish about a romance that had been so wrong. No one really needed to know what she’d done. Not ever. But keeping her past romantic mistake to herself sometimes made her feel as if there was a wall between her and her family.

      As she walked back to the tack room, she glimpsed Eli setting the box near the shelves. Joining him, she watched the momma cat walk toward the box and the baby follow. Momma circled a few times, hopped in and kneaded the saddle pad. Baby hopped in with her. Soon she was suckling her mom.

      With a smile that made Hadley feel tingly all over, Eli studied the cats with her. Then he asked about Amber. Though she told him the mare was fine, he obviously needed to see for himself.

      In the barn once more, he ran practiced hands over Amber’s flanks. “She’s restless, but not pushing. I don’t know what happened earlier. She’s even eaten a little.”

      “We’ll keep watching her,” Hadley assured him.

      The gusts of wind outside suddenly became more forceful. The side door of the barn blew open, and more than one horse whinnied.

      “I’ll get it,” Hadley said, rushing toward the door.

      “Put the bar across,” Eli called to her. “Or do you want me to do it?”

      “I can do it,” she called back. She might be short and slender, but she was strong. She worked out with weights when she could. She had to stay strong to lift animals, even though she was a small animal vet. Sometimes she had to handle German shepherds that could weigh ninety or a hundred pounds.

      The vehemence of the wind pushed against the door, and she pushed back, closing it with a bang. She hefted up the plank of wood beside the doorjamb and swung it into place. She glanced toward the other end of the barn, where, luckily, the large airplane hangar-style door was securely latched. When the wind blew, the plank rumbled a little, but it wasn’t going anywhere. She couldn’t see out of the high windows up above. Falling snow completely blocked them.

      Eli came out from the stall. “That was impressive. Do you handle elephants in your small pet practice?”

      She laughed. “No, but I try not to let the big dogs run away with me. I had to lift a pregnant Newfoundland once. Ever since then, I’ve kept up my strength. It comes in handy at times like these.”

      He beckoned to the tack room. “Come on, let’s finish our lunch. Maybe nibbling on those cookies will help us forget about the wind howling outside. Are you nervous being in here?”

      Following him to the warmest spot in the barn, she sat in the captain’s chair and watched as he poured coffee into the top of the thermos and handed that cup to her. He used a foam cup for himself.

      “Nervous?” she asked. “You mean about the storm?”

      “About the storm, about being cooped up in here with a relative stranger, about not knowing when you’ll get out.”

      She motioned to the heater. “We have heat.” She gestured to the cookie tin.