Rocky Mountain Miracle (9 page)

“You might like it if you try it,” Cole said with no inflection. “You wouldn't have any trouble academically. You're really smart, Jase, and you know it.”

“That doesn't make me socially acceptable,” Jase muttered.

“Is anyone ever socially acceptable?” Maia asked.

Cole made a snorting sound of derision. “I'll bet you were the most popular girl in school. Prom queen. Cheerleader.”

Maia winked at Jase. “What do you think?”

“I think you should have been if you weren't,” Jase said honestly.

“You don't have to find me flannel pajamas, and I'll still make you a pizza,” Maia declared. “That was a nice thing to say.”

“I said it first.” Cole crowded closer to her, keeping his body between her and the elements as best he could. She was wearing only the thin scrubs and couldn't control her
continuous shivering. “You're making me crazy, Doc.” He put his arm around her and pulled her closer to the heat of his body.

“I'm a mess,” she said, drawing away. “I'll need that washing machine.”

He pulled her back to him, slipping his arm around her waist so that she fit even closer. “I don't think you know how cold you are, Doc. You're turning blue. You look good blue, but it clashes with your spunky attitude.”

“I'm not spunky.” This time she stayed near the intense heat pouring off his body. Warming her. It felt good, and she was chilled to the bone. He smelled masculine. She'd never smelled a man before, but inhaled deeply, taking him into her lungs and trying not to rub her head against his chest like a cat. It wasn't just the way he felt and smelled, it was the way he made her feel. “No one says spunky anymore.”

She'd never been so physically close to a man before. She moved around too much to form really close relationships with people. She'd certainly never experienced such tremendous physical attraction before. Cole Steele made her feel ultrafeminine, completely aware of herself as a woman—and him as a man. “The word ‘spunky' is definitely out,” she affirmed.

As the walked, her body moved against his in a perfect rhythm reminiscent of dancing. She could feel her color rising, or maybe it was her blood pressure, as she remembered the feel of his body pressed so tightly against hers when they'd danced together. The last thing she needed was to be trapped for any length of time on his ranch with him. She had no idea if her self-control was that strong.

Cole raised an eyebrow at his younger brother. Jase
grinned at him, genuine amusement on his face. “I'd have to agree with Cole on this one, Doc. You are one spunky woman.”

Feeling deeply unsettled by her attraction for the larger-than-life man walking so close to her, Maia was grateful when Cole opened a side door to the main house, and they were in the snow room. Jackets were hung on the walls, and boots lined the floor. Both men removed their shoes, and Maia did the same. It was cool in the room, but far warmer than outside.

The inside of the house was so warm she felt the blast of heat on her cold skin. The entryway was tiled, but warm on their feet. She looked up at the archways and high ceilings, her breath catching. “Good grief. You live here? This is a modern-day miracle.”

Cole and Jase exchanged a long look. Jase cleared his throat. “I'll find you some warm clothes.” He hurried off while Cole pulled a blanket from the back of one of the deep, oversized couches and wrapped it around her. “How about I make you something hot to drink, and I'll cook tonight.” He glanced out the series of glass windows making up the front of the house. The snow was steady with no letup. “I think you're going to be here a few days, and you'll get the chance to make Jase your famous pizza another time. Right now you need to warm up.”

Maia couldn't argue with him. She was shivering uncontrollably. “I'd love a hot shower.” Just the idea sounded like ecstasy.

The thought of Maia naked in the shower was enough to give Cole heart failure. “Sure.” His voice was husky and she gave him a sharp glance. He put his hand over his heart. “You're killing me.”

“Good. It's about time someone did. All those women come way too easy for you. It isn't good for you, you know.”

“What? Women? You make me sound like a gigolo. There haven't been all that many.” Why was he defending himself? It was her smile, the way it lit her eyes, the way her soft mouth curved. Inwardly he groaned. His mouth tightened. His jaw hardened. Why did he have to be so intrigued by everything she said and did?

Maia pinned him with her gaze, a small smirk escaping over his reaction. “There
were
that many women. Point me toward the shower and the bathroom had better have a really good lock on the door. I did mention I'm proficient in several forms of martial arts, didn't I?”

“I knew we were compatible. So am I.”

She heaved an exaggerated sigh. “Of course you are. What was I thinking?”

M
AIA THREW OFF
the goose-down quilt and sat up. It was impossible to go to sleep. She was so tired she wanted to scream in frustration, but the house seemed to whisper to her. Evil, haunting whispers she couldn't ignore. The pain in the house ran deep, was soaked into the walls and floors and ceilings. She pressed her hands over her ears, trying to drown out the whispers and finally gave up, leaping from the bed. It wasn't because she was psychic that she could feel the pain radiating out off the walls, it was because it was so intense
anyone
would have felt it.

The blizzard had to stop soon, or she would be going out of her mind in this place. Maia wandered through the spacious hall and down the curving staircase. The front of the house was mainly glass, and the snow reflected light from every source, illuminating the interior of the house with soft silver light. The house was beautiful, but it was a cold beauty, almost cruel. It gave her the creeps. Shivering, she made her way toward the kitchen. Something to warm her up might help her sleep. If it weren't so cold, she would go out to her Land Cruiser and sleep there.

“What are you doing up?”

Maia whirled around, her heart in her throat. Cole Steele was sprawled out on the overlarge couch, long legs stretched out in front of him and a bottle of Jack Daniel's on the table. Her gaze jumped from the bottle to his face. In that one, unguarded moment, she caught a glimpse of a man ravaged by pain, by unspeakable horror, and she knew the truth. Jase had not been the only one to be abused. Cole had suffered the same torment as Jase, and it explained a lot about the man he had become. Wary. Dangerous. Solitary. It was a miracle that he had come back to take care of his half brother.

Cole wrapped his hand around the neck of the bottle, his gaze all at once hot as it drifted with too much interest over her body. “I asked why you were still up.” There was a dark sensuality that called to everything feminine in her.

“Ghosts live in this house, but you already know that, don't you?”

His fingers tightened around the bottle. Without taking his eyes off her, he lifted it to his mouth and took a drink. His shirt was open, leaving the heavy muscles of his chest bare. There was rage in his eyes. Too many memories and none of them good. “Yes,” he answered abruptly, studying her over the rim of the bottle. “When they get to be too much, I drown them. Do you want to join me?”

Maia shook her head, resisting the need in him. So much darkness and intensity, and Cole was very tempting. She healed hurt animals, and right now, he was far too close to being one. His way of forgetting was to drink, to have sex with a woman . . . any woman. “Hot chocolate for me. I presume you must keep a supply of chocolate on hand with Jase around.”

He nodded and turned away from her, setting the bottle
carefully on the table and staring out the huge glass panel to the pristine snow endlessly coming down. He looked utterly alone, and her heart stilled. Maia glanced around the enormous room, with its cathedral ceilings, and the curving stairway that went off in two directions. The house should have been alive with joy and music and Christmas decorations. There should have been logs in the fireplace and the fragrance of cinnamon and pine wafting through the air. Instead there was a boy alone in his room struggling to find a way to survive and a man drowning his demons in alcohol.

She shook her head. The pain and suffering in the house was overwhelming for someone as empathic as she was. And it made her angry on a level she'd never experienced before. Cole and Jase Steele existed, yet they weren't really living. The ghost lived, and he ruled with an iron fist in the house.

Maia thought it over as she made the chocolate. The house itself was the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen, yet it was bleak and as empty as the life Cole Steele seemed to live. Earlier, in the kitchen, Jase had laughed with her, teasing her about his pajamas being too big when she rolled up the cuffs and generally acting like a happy boy. Her heart had gone out to him as he worked so hard at being normal when the very walls of the house shrieked and wept for his suffering.

Cole had said little, never smiled, his blue gazed focused and direct, watching her watch Jase. Sitting in the kitchen chair, in his own home, he should have been relaxed, but instead, he had been on edge, wary, aware of everything around him. Now she knew why. She could have sat in that chef's dream of a kitchen and wept for
both of them. Two men struggling to learn to come together as a family. Wary. Secretive. Ready to push everything and everyone away—including each other. Everything, healer and woman and compassionate human being responded to the intense pain in both of the Steeles, but a part of her, her instinct for self-preservation, wanted to run away and hide. She had no idea what to do to help either of them.

With a small sigh of resignation, knowing she couldn't just ignore it all, Maia added marshmallows to the chocolate and, picking up the mug, went to lean in the doorway to the living room. Cole's head was in his hands, his body tense, hair damp as if he'd just woken from a night terror-or still remained locked within it. She dug her fingers into the doorframe to keep from going to him. He wouldn't accept comfort, unless she offered sex—and she wasn't about to offer herself up as a sacrificial lamb.

“Go to bed, Maia,” he muttered without looking up. “It isn't safe when I'm like this.”

She took a cautious sip of the hot chocolate. Waiting in silence. Cole turned his head and looked at her, and her heart jumped, nearly melted. “Why are you doing this to yourself?”

The careful, expressionless mask was back in place, but he couldn't hide the pain revealed in his eyes. It remained there. Alive and ugly and so ingrained she wanted to comfort him.
Needed
to comfort him.

“You think I do this to myself?” There was controlled violence in his voice.

A shiver of fear went down her spine, but Maia persisted. She gestured around the house. “You keep this house a monument to the pain and suffering he caused.
You live inside his world, and you expect somehow that you and Jase can overcome it. He's all around you, alive, here in this house, and you don't do anything to get him out of here.”

“Who do you mean by
he?”
he asked suspiciously. He stood up, tall and lethal, a man who worked hard to stay in shape, to train himself to be the weapon he'd become. A man who despised pity and refused sympathy, preferring to remain alone rather than risk trusting anyone. Few knew about his past, he'd come clean with a soft version for his superiors at work, but never a woman. He didn't need a bleeding heart trying to stake a claim on him.

Maia's heart began a frantic pounding. She was very aware she was isolated from help, possibly for days. Cole looked capable of anything. She forced a shrug, trying to look nonchalant. “The ghost, of course. You admitted you have one.”

He shook his head as he took an aggressive step toward her, bare feet making no sound in the thick pile of carpet. “Don't dodge the truth. Someone's been talking to you. What did they say?”

She took another sip of chocolate. The cup was shaking so she steadied it with her other hand. “I know something happened to Jase, yes. It's not all that difficult to figure out. And”—she indicated the bottle with her chin—“that says it happened to you as well.”

He spat out a string of ugly imprecations, taking a second step toward her. “You don't know anything about us. Big deal, I'm having a drink. Don't feel sorry for me, Doc, I don't need it.”

Despite her fear—or maybe because of it, Maia burst out laughing. “I definitely am feeling sorry for
me,
not
you. Everyone has to live with demons, Steele. Some are worse than others, but we all have them. It's your choice how you deal with them. Drink yourself silly if that's what floats your boat. Personally, I'd drive the ghost out of my home. Reclaim it from him. Exorcise him, if you will.” She looked around the house. “It's beautiful here and you've allowed it to become a mausoleum, cold and ugly with something cruel living in it. I can feel it. You can too. And so can Jase. I don't know why you want to keep it alive, but, hey”—she shrugged—“it's nothing to do with me.”