Chapter 2 ~ Rhett

As Rhett shot back to reality from his thoughts, he looked over at the girl. She stood staring dumbly at the dry hoodie in her hands. Rhett had to fight a smile when her auburn eyebrows continued to raise in confusion.

He shook his head to clear his smile and said, "Put it on, pretty girl." This got a reaction from her finally, and she broke her trance to look up at him.

"Quit calling me that; I know I look like a drowned rat," she spat back at him.

"You look nothing close to a drowned rat, sweetheart," he drawled.

She obviously didn't have clue that, no, she didn't look like a drowned rat, but he wasn't going to push the subject. He only chuckled and nodded at the dry hoodie again. She was visibly shaking, and he knew that she needed something warm to put on instead of the thin, soaked shirt that she had on.

"I'll even be a gentleman and turn around while you take off your shirt and put that one on," he smirked at her.

Her eyes grew wide as she comprehended what he said, and he had to hide his smile. "What?" she almost screeched.

"You have to put something warm on or you're going to get sick, hon'."

He hoped she didn't think that he was trying to take advantage of her. He continued to stare into her green eyes until comprehension eventually flooded them.

As he turned around in his seat, she slowly turned away from him. He made sure she was out of sight so no onlooking peepers would be getting a view. She didn't deserve to have creeps checking her out.

She took her slow, sweet time, and he began to worry about her being in the rain. A good, dry shirt wasn't going to help if it was wet from the rain.

"Hurry now, sweetheart, or you'll get soaked again," he told her, still facing away from her.

"Oh shut up," she muttered.

He could hear her talking under her breath, and he found it adorable. She huffed and turned back to him, finally finished. He chuckled at her winded appearance.

"Having trouble were you?" he asked with his head cocked to the side in amusement.

"No," she said simply, but it was filled with attitude.

She glared at him and threw the wet shirt she had taken off at him. He caught it right as it hit his face. Through the dampness of rain, he could smell the aroma of a diner. Ah, so she must work at the diner. Besides that though, the faint smell of roses wafted through.

It reminded him of when he was younger, and he'd sit in his grandma's garden. She'd loved rose bushes and had them planted all over the outside of the enclosure. The wind brought the smell of roses all over the yard in the summer.

Seeing the girl staring awkwardly at her feet again brought him out of his trance. He could tell she was embarrassed and he felt bad for making fun of her.

"What's wrong?" he asked her.

"My pants are still muddy," she said matter-of-factly to him.

He respected the fact that even though she was embarrassed, she still wasn't going to let him walk all over her.

He reached behind him again and grabbed the towel. He felt her eyes follow him, and again, regretted the fact that his back seat was a jungle. He caught her silently giggling at the back as he laid the towel down in the seat. He gave her a stern look, and she finally started to crawl in.

"Thank you," she said nodding her head at the towel.

When she had climbed in all the way, he reached over to point the vents at her. She needed all the warming up she could get it seemed by the look of her shivering body. Finally, with all the vents pointing at her, he kicked the truck into gear.

They drove in silence for a moment, then he mentioned, "I never caught your name?"

She looked out the window, staring at the lights flashing by. She looked like she was thinking hard about her name, and truthfully, she was probably contemplating if she should tell him or not.

Suddenly, she said, "Taylor Houston. What's your last name, Rhett?"

He had to admire her name. He knew that living in Texas and having a last name like that had to have been hard in school.

He, for one, could sympathize over having a strange name. He had her beat in that department for sure. Growing up with a weird name had been hard for him, and he was tough as nails. He could only guess how it was for a pretty girl like her.

He decided to brighten up her day.

"It's Montgomery. My full name is Rhett Frankly Montgomery," he said grimacing.

He knew what came next. She burst out laughing and he had to pretend to look offended. She wasn't the first person to ever laugh at his name. This was a fine example of why only his family knew his middle name.

"Frankly? What kind of parent names their child Frankly?" she asked between fits of giggles.

She was trying to control her laughter, but it was clearly a hard job. She bit her lip and seemed to be trying not to look at him. He had to admire how simple her giggle was. It wasn't weird and unproportioned to her voice. It fit her. Small, simple, and cute.

He looked over at her, doing his best to make an intimidating face, "It's not very nice to laugh at someone's name," he said, trying his best to look offended.

Her face grew serious for a minute then she cracked up again. Seeing her not being able to control her smile, he couldn't hold it back anymore, and he finally cracked a lopsided grin at her. His mama called it his charmer smile, and, hey, he was going to use it if it would help put her at ease.

Still giggling, she finally caught her breath.

"Okay, okay there has to be a story behind this. Let me hear it," she said with bright eyes. He looked at her, and she gave him a big-eyed puppy dog look. Sticking out her bottom lip, she pretended to beg. "Please," she drew out real long.

He turned to look at her and mimicked being annoyed.

"Fine," he drawled out real long as she had, but he sounded more like a teenage girl. "It was my Grandmother's name," he explained.

This only made her laugh harder, and she put her face in her hands. He snickered and shook his head at her reaction.

"Your poor grandma. It's even worse on a woman," she laughed into her hands.

She was laughing so hard that she seemed to be shaking. He couldn't tell if it was purely from laughter or if she was still cold.

Explaining his birth-given name, he started his story, "Well, my great grandpa's name was Frank, and he was going to pass the name down to his son. His wife had a hard time staying pregnant though, and they ended up only being able to have one child, a girl. He had his mind made though, so they modified it to fit a little girl," he finished with his story and turned to look at her.

She was still giggling and he realized that she had hit the 'laugh or cry' stage of exhaustion.

As he looked over, he realized she was shivering more, causing her teeth to rattle and chatter. He wondered just how long she had been out in the rain. They were a good few miles away from the diner, if that was where she had come from, but Rhett wasn't for sure. He hoped that wasn't the case.

"How long had you been out in the rain?" he asked.

He tried not to look upset, but at her confused expression, he began to get worried.

She looked at him with startled eyes and asked, "What do you mean?"

He could tell that she wasn't comprehending his questions as she should be. He didn't know if she was in shock or just ditzy. She didn't seem the type to be ditzy, but she was out in the middle of a Texas monsoon for Christ's sake.

He cleared his throat, "You just look like you're having a hard time getting warm, and I wondered how long you had been out there."

He stared out the windshield wipers while waiting for her to respond.

"Well, I don't really know. I got off the night shift at the diner around noon and just started walking. I don't really know what time it is," she explained.

He looked at the dashboard where the clock was, and had to look twice. He looked over at her dumbfounded.

"Hell, no wonder you can't warm up, it's three-thirty. You've been walking in the pouring rain for three and a half hours," he exclaimed.

He was beginning to understand why she hadn't warmed up in the ten minutes that they had been in his truck.

She just looked at him. "It can't already be that late," she said shaking her head in disbelief.

He pointed at the dash. Rhett realized they had to get her home fast before she really did get sick.

She'd been out too long in the elements, and as he looked at her again, it hit him. She wasn't wearing a jacket or anything. Of course, he had already known that, but he hadn't comprehended it until this moment. He didn't know how she had become so brainless today, but he hoped she wasn't like this all of the time.

"Hon, we've got to get you home. Which way is it?" he asked softly, trying to stay calm.

Like a punch in the gut, he watched as a tear rolled down her cheek. It struck him like lightning the realization that he was so affected by her.

"Just take me to a nearby motel," she said meekly; not meeting his eyes again.

She was too busy inside her head to look at him. He didn't know what she was thinking about, but her face was screwed up in concentration.

"What do you mean a motel? Don't you have a house? Are you in trouble?" he worriedly asked.

He was beginning to think there was more to her story than she was telling him. When she looked at him with frightened eyes, he cursed himself for using such a stern tone.

She burst into tears again, her lip trembling. Her teeth started chattering loudly and she began shaking all over. She looked like she was having a seizure, but he knew that it was her body going into shock. He threw the middle console up at the same time as pulled off of the road.

"Damn it," he said as he grabbed her, pulling her to him.

She fought him for a minute, but he continued.

"Work with me here sweetheart, or you'll be sick for days."

She was still wiggling away from him though, and he finally had to give up on being gentle. Manhandling her, he grabbed Taylor by both arms, pinning them to her sides, and hauled her to him.

Finally, she stopped squirming away, and he was able to keep her on his lap. Rapping his arms around her he held tight, trying to stop her shaking. After a few minutes of no results, he knew it would take real heat. He had to get her home. When he looked down he realized that she was out.

She was curled against his chest in an adorable way. The sight of her cheek pressed against his shoulder would have made him smile on any other given day. Today, however, it only set him on edge.

He knew she had been exhausted, and he hoped that she had just fallen asleep, and not what he was beginning to fear. He hoped she hadn't passed out on his lap from the cold.

Grabbing her hands, he checked the tips of her fingers. Dread rolled through his gut at the sight. Her hands were pale, and her fingers were starting to tent a bluish-purple color. There had to be more to her story because she would have had to have been a little more than tired for the cold rain to have affected her this badly.

He put the truck back into gear with her still curled on his lap. Her frame was small enough that she didn't make it hard for him to maneuver the wheel. As he pulled back onto the road, she started violently shaking again. He knew they were in dangerous territory now.

He'd heard about people who were out in the cold rain with no shelter. Their body goes into shock, and there's no way to warm them up but to get body heat on body heat. He was hoping he could get her somewhere, get her out of her wet clothes, put her under blankets, and she would warm up, but deep down he knew it would take more.

Fighting with his conscience, he thought about taking her to a motel and dropping her off, but he knew she needed looking after. Finally, deciding to hell with it, he turned down the road that would lead to his driveway.

His mama had enough experience with this sort of thing that she could help. She'd mothered four cowboying boys and was the wife to the owner of one of the largest ranches in Texas.

As they pulled into the mile-long drive to the farmhouse, he realized he didn't want to take her to the family home yet. Stupid as it sounded, he wanted her to himself until he found out what was really going on.

He called his mom to ask what to do. She picked up on the second ring sounding worried.

"Rhett, your father said you've been out all night, why aren't you in bed?" her motherly tone made him smile, but he quickly changed the subject.

"Mama, I'm fine. I'm headed home now, but my buddy has a problem. He was out in the rain for a really long time, and he's sick now and can't get warm. He needs to know what to do to feel better. Would you know how to do this?"

"Rhett Montgomery, are you sick? I'm coming to your house now," she said, already moving he could tell.

He heard the jingling of keys and he started reassuring her.

"No, Mama, I'm fine. It isn't me; it's Luke. He just called me asking for advice. I was just trying to help him out. I'm headed home to crawl into my bed. No need for you to come down here," he quickly told her, holding his breath.

He'd never been able to fool his mother, and he doubted he could now. It had been a problem when he'd been in high school. He'd never been able to keep a secret from her.

He heard her huff on the other line, and he chuckled.

"That Luke knows better than to be out in a storm like this without taking the right precautions. He must be going crazy," she said warmly.

Luke had been his best friend since they were in diapers, and he knew his mama cared for him just like he was her own son.

He chuckled wryly and said, "Well, I don't know what he was thinking, but he's sick, so, got any advice?"

He heard her take a big breath and then she asked, "How bad is he? Is he just cold? Is he shaking?"

He looked down at Taylor mentally answering her questions. Yeah, she's cold. Yes, she's shaking.

"He's very cold and he's shaking. When he called me his teeth were rattling," he told her thinking of Taylor.

"Oh, dear, did he say anything about his hands? Are they turning colors?" she worriedly asked.

He looked down at Taylor's hands. Picking one up, he held it up in front of his face.

"Yes, his hands are bluish I think he said. I know that isn't good," he told her juggling his phone to his other hand while he turned into his drive.

"Oh, no, how blue, and is it spreading down the fingers?"

"It's mainly just the tips of his fingers I think he said, but his hands are speckled," he held Taylor's hands tighter and added, "the palms are freezing and hard as ice."

He held her hand against his cheek and they were cold enough to cause him to shudder. His mom was quiet for a minute on the other end of the line.

"Honey, you're going to have to tell him that he's going to have to use body heat. If he's passed out he needs to be up against someone else. Skin-on-skin will be the only way to thaw her, I mean him," she said quickly.

He began looking out his window for her. He never said anything about being passed out. He didn't see her anywhere so he relaxed.

"He didn't say anything about being passed out Mom. He wouldn't have been able to call if he was passed out," he said matter-of-factly.

"Right, well you can bet if his hands are already turning blue it's coming. So if he doesn't call you back, because I know you're going to call and make sure you tell him what I told you, Rhett Montgomery, then you need to head over there and check on him," she stated.

He chuckled and said, "Okay, I'll get right on that, Mama, thanks."

She quietly said in a voice that he could barely hear, "Take care of them."

He rolled past the farmhouse and continued into the ranch. When he got to his house he took in a big breath and looked down at Taylor. Gathering his courage, he mentally prepared himself before opening the door to his truck and climbing out with Taylor still in his arms. He carried her the rest of the way to the house.

..........

Taylor startled awake to a dark room. She sat up, cold and shivering when a warm fog wrapped around her and lulled her back to sleep.

She woke up once again later, no longer shivering but still freezing. She searched for the warm fog, yet again, and finally found it. The fog wrapped tighter around her, reminding her of strong arms.

When Tae opened her eyes, it was dark outside the window. She began panicking. She didn't know where she was, or how she got there. She rolled ever into a wall, or well, she thought it was a wall. It was a wall of hot flesh and masculinity.

She abruptly tried to move away, but an arm reached out and snagged her. Being pulled back to the warmth, she relished in the heat around her cold shoulders. Then, she realized she was in a bed with a man she didn't know.

"Who the hell are you?" she shouted at the sleeping man.

"What?" he asked groggy and confused.

The man quickly came fully awake and looked at her startled. He looked vaguely familiar but she couldn't place him.

"Taylor, you have to stay under the covers," he said grudgingly as he rubbed his eyes.

She stared at him. What in the world is he talking about?

"You'll get even sicker if you get back out in the cold," he explained more.

His explanation didn't help her though. She wasn't sick. The last thing she remembered was, oh god the house, the job, it's all gone. She collapsed to the ground.

"It's all gone," she whispered.

She couldn't believe it, everything she'd ever worked for was gone.

The man said something again, but it sounded like it was worlds away. He got out of the bed, walked around, and bent to scoop her up. He placed her back on the bed and pulled the covers over her. After, he walked around and climbed in beside her.

Taylor didn't know this man, but the coldness that she had felt begin to freeze inside her, began to thaw. She curled up beside him and began to cry.

After she had cried all the tears that she was capable of, she looked up at the man who was staring down at her. Since she'd already had a breakdown in front of the man, she decided it was time to introduce herself.

"Hi, I'm Taylor."

"I know. We met yesterday. I'm Rhett," he said. He continued to look at her and then a smile spread across his face. "You don't remember anything about it do you?" he asked smiling broadly.

She felt a blush spread across her face.

"Umm, it's a little hazy. I remember walking out of the diner crying. I had just worked all night, and then they kept me even later. I was coming off a sixteen-hour shift, and as I went to clock out, he told me I was fired. I had just been evicted the day before, and needless to say, I was a bit off. Then, to my surprise, I'm told that I no longer have a job. I'm now homeless and have no job. It was a rough day."

She rambled on until she began to cry again as she relived the nightmare. Rhett slowly wrapped his arms around her as she broke down again.

"Hey, it's okay," he consoled, "so how about I tell you our epic meeting story while we transfer to the kitchen? You've got to be hungry right?" Rhett asked.

Food didn't sound very appealing to her, but she wanted to hear his story.

"Okay, but I don't want to get out from under the covers," she said smiling meekly.

He chuckled as she attempted to burrow into the million blankets he had placed over her. She didn't know how she had jumped up earlier without them all holding her down.

"Yeah, you'll probably be cold for a little longer until your body returns to one hundred percent normal. You can bring the blankets with you," Rhett said as he got up.

He stood up, grabbing a shirt off of the floor. As he put it on, she looked around and saw the room.

It had dark wooden floors that made it feel small and cramped. With the right decorating, that would change. There was clothing all over the floor, not counting the number of boots that were thrown in the corner. Oh yes, this was a man's house, and if that didn't tell her he was single, then the mud tracked through the room on the floor did. She laughed at the thought and he looked at her curiously.

"And what are you laughing at?" he asked smirking.

She could tell by the way he was smiling that he already knew what she was thinking, and he seemed to be proud of his messy bachelor pad.

"You are a fantastic decorator. The way the brown curtains go with the black bed, oh, and the way your grey dresser matches the gold ceiling fan. It all goes together so well," she finished her sarcasm with a nod around the room as if she was appreciating it.

She smiled sweetly at him when he frowned, then rolled his eyes in response to her smile.

He pointed out, "I am a single man who happens to work a ranch for a living. Doesn't leave much time, or want to, to make my house look like a magazine cover."

Taylor laughed and went to get out of the bed, only to wrestle with the blankets. Rhett quickly stepped close and helped her detangle from the mess. With a smile, he wrapped her up in one of the blankets and stepped to open the door of the bedroom.

Down the hallway they walked, and she was able to see more of the bachelor-decorated home. The mud that had been trailed in the bedroom was all the way down the hall as well, and she looked down, rolling her eyes at it. That needed to change. He led her to the kitchen and she sat down at the bar. The kitchen was a decent size, and it even had a dishwasher.

She stared in utter amazement at the dishwasher. He looked at her and smiled, but when he followed her gaze, his eyebrows shot up in confusion. He looked back at her with one eyebrow quirked in question.

"I wasn't raised in a family with a lot of money, and we lived in a house my parents had built in the seventies. It was outdated and had no dishwasher. I've done dishes by hand my entire life," she explained to him in amazement, "You don't know how much of a blessing a dishwasher would have been. I've never even used one before."

Now it was his turn to look at her in amazement.

Shaking his head, he said, "Well, you know what, after breakfast, I'll let you try it out if you're feeling better." He put emphasis on the 'if'.

She was excited now, and her dark day was slowly brightening up. She looked around the kitchen again and noticed that it was fully stocked with everything a woman could want. Looking at the microwave she noticed the time and her eyes widened.

"Is the time on the microwave correct?" she squealed. "It can't really be three o'clock, can it?"

She looked at him confused, and she saw him trying not to laugh.

"Yes, it is really three in the morning. You slept like a rock, Sleeping Beauty," he said smirking to himself.

"Well, if I'm Sleeping Beauty, then you're definitely the beast, she said smirking.

"I don't know, with the way you drooled, you may have me beat in the beast contest," he teased.

She threw the rag on the counter at him for making fun of her. She wasn't going to tell him that it wasn't like her. She normally only caught about five hours of sleep at the most on a given night.

She'd worked three jobs for a couple of years, and until recently, it was normal for her to come home crash, wake up early, change uniforms, and then go to the next job. She tried to pretend this wasn't her normal, but he saw through her anyways.

"Something tells me that it isn't typical for you to sleep for almost twelve hours, and by the look on your face, I'd say I'm correct," he said to her seriously.

She blushed and looked down, trying to get herself together. Cursing her easy-to-read features, she looked back up at him.

"No, not really," was all she said.

He shook his head, causing her to remember a flash from earlier. He had done that before he got into his truck to shake the rain out.

"Okay, I remember small flashes of yesterday, or today, or whenever it was, but I'm still confused," she said ready for him to start explaining.

He looked at the ceiling for a moment and she hoped he wasn't trying to take advantage of her lack of memory. Finally, he met her eyes and nodded.

"Honestly, I'm not really sure what all happened before we ran into each other, or well I almost ran you over," he chuckled, "You were just standing out in the middle of the road, and I was a little hot already from where I had just come from, and then there you were, and I almost ran you over. I blew my top. We had a little discussion, and then you broke down into tears," he broke off swallowing nervously.

She interrupted, "Wait a minute. I have flashes of screaming and fist-waving, not a how did you say it, a little discussion, yeah not what I would call a discussion."

At his wide-eyed look of being caught red-handed, she added, "Okay, you can continue now."

Shaking his head again he stated, "I'm not very proud of my actions, okay. I shouldn't have taken my anger out on you," he apologized. "Well, you kind of looked like a ghost for a little while. There wasn't any life in your eyes, and when I commented on you being on the road, it was like you finally came back to life.

"Then, everything hit at once and you fell apart. I don't know what was going on, but you looked like it was a lot. I realized you weren't okay, and I finally got you in my truck. After you argued with me for five minutes, that is, pretty girl," he added shaking his head.

At the use of the pet name, she blushed. She remembered him saying it multiple times to her yesterday as well. She recalled the look of pity in his eyes as he begged her to get in the truck. She didn't like people pitying her.

She up and told him, "It was a rough day, but we haven't finished the story yet, so please continue."

He looked back at the ceiling like he was searching for what to say.

"After I got you in the truck, I realized just how cold and wet you really were. We discussed the fact that you had been in the rain for three hours."

Another flash came to her, this time, one of him yelling at her about being in the rain for so long.

"Actually it was three and a half hours if I remember correctly," she interrupted rolling her eyes.

His anger simmered in his eyes and she shuddered.

"If I recall, you said that you had just come off your shift at the diner. So you had worked for what, seven hours on your feet? You had to be exhausted, and then you decided to go walk in the rain for a couple of hours. Not a warm summer rain, but a cool fall rain that chills you to your bones," he said shaking his head disapprovingly, "You seriously could have gotten pneumonia, Taylor."

She took a big gulp of air, not meeting his eyes. She wasn't going to tell him, that actually, she had worked the night shift as well. So, she had come in at eight-thirty the night before and was supposed to get off at five in the morning. The girl who was supposed to come in, though, didn't come in, so she had to work the morning shift as well. They were talking about around fifteen or sixteen hours on her feet instead.

He looked at her for a long time, and she felt exposed as if he was reading her mind. She continued to look at her hands, not meeting his eyes.

"What's that look for Taylor? You look like there's more to the story," he said raising an eyebrow.

She had a flash of when her dad had caught her coming in the middle of the night as a teenager. She'd stayed out all night at the beach with a couple of friends. Alcohol and boys had been involved, and her father had been very disappointed.

Thinking about the likeness between her father and Rhett caused her to start blushing and curse under her breath.

"It wasn't seven hours; it was closer to sixteen," she said standing up to pull her covers around her again because she had started shivering.

It wasn't as much the cold now, but instead, the fact that he seemed to be able to see straight through her.

She had felt invisible most of her life, so his eyes on her made her feel like she was on a stage for all the audience to see. She was used to people looking right over her, and she didn't like confrontation. She continued to mess with the blanket, purposefully avoiding his eyes, because she could feel his eyes on her and knew if she looked up, she would see blazing anger in those piercing blue eyes.

"Why the hell did you work sixteen hours exactly?" he asked unusually quiet.

She explained how the girl who was supposed to come in after her had no-showed, and how she had had to cover for her. She finished her explanation with a big breath.

She looked up at him, finally, to see that he had his back to her. He was at the stove working on their breakfast, and she realized that the entire time they had been talking, he had almost got their bacon and scrambled eggs done. She could see the tension in his shoulders and quickly looked back down at her hands.

She didn't know why, but his being angry at her affected her strongly. She looked down at her hands again as a tear rolled down her cheek, and she quickly wiped it away with the back of her hand before Rhett could see. As another rolled down her cheek, she wasn't fast enough, and Rhett caught it before it fell.

He tilted her chin to meet his eyes and quietly said, "You shouldn't have had to do that. It wasn't fair, and they were putting you at risk of exhaustion."

She nodded her head, but when he let her go, her eyes went right back to her lap.

He sat the plate down in front of her and said cheekily, "Bon appetite."

She raised her eyes to the plate and took in the food. As the aroma hit her, she realized she was actually hungry. She started eating while thinking to herself and realized she was missing a crucial part of the story.

"Wait, how did I end up here?" she asked him.

He studied her for a moment until he realized that she meant from the truck to here.

"Well, once we finally got your stubborn self into the truck and put together the pieces of you being out too long in the cold rain, your body went into shock. I had to graciously hold you to keep you warm," he said sending a wink in her direction.

Interrupting him yet again, she tried to hide her blush as she said, "You mean when you wrestled me like a calf and drug me to your side?"

She smiled proudly to herself for remembering and looked him straight in the eyes.

"For someone who doesn't remember it, you sure are telling most of the story. Now, it's my story and I'm going to tell it how I want to," he said pouting, "and besides it's your fault that I had to wrestle you; you're about as feisty as a calf."

Feeling herself again, she decided to prod him a little more.

"Aww, poor baby. Go ahead and finish your story," she said with mock apology.

Still standing beside her, he tipped her chair back until she was looking straight up at him. Noses inches apart, he looked down at her.

"I'd be careful who you call a baby, pretty girl," he said smirking at her again.

Fighting a heart that wanted to beat out of her chest, and a blush trying to give her away, she leaned forward until they were only a hair away.

"I'm not afraid, cowboy."