LITMIR.BIZ

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help. The ground beneath her ruined sandals was slippery. She’d lost her footing repeatedly. She’d barked her shins and torn her skirt on brambles and briars. Not to mention almost winding up impaled by a deadly-looking tree with thousands of three-inch-long thorns!

      “What happened to your dog?” she asked.

      “Knowing Samson, he’s bringing up the rear to make sure we both get home okay.”

      “Good. I’d hate to have anything bad happen to an animal that likes me so much.”

      Adam gave a hard tug and pulled her up beside him. They were balanced on a narrow rock ledge beneath the canopy of a gigantic oak. The leaves didn’t stop all the rain but they did offer a slight respite from the wind-driven torrent.

      “Yeah. I don’t understand that,” he said, scowling. “He’s supposed to treat his family like a flock of sheep and be really leery of outsiders.”

      “Guess he could tell I was friendly.” Sara looked up into her companion’s deep-blue eyes and wondered for an unguarded instant if she was crazy to have placed all her trust in the rugged-looking, taciturn stranger.

      Sensing her uneasiness, Adam softened his expression. “Look, lady. I promise I won’t hurt you. I really am trying to keep you out of danger and get us both back inside before we catch pneumonia.”

      “I know.” She gave him a sweet, trusting smile. “If I had to get stuck anywhere, I’m glad it was on your road.”

      His approachable countenance faded. His eyes darkened to the color of the foreboding sky. “I wish I could agree with you.”

      Sara wasn’t sure exactly what kind of home she had expected Adam’s to be. Certainly not anything as tiny as the cabin to which he led her.

      The house sat at the edge of an apparently large clearing. The farthest perimeters were obscured by continuing rain. Square and made of stacked logs, his home looked like something straight out of a history book. Except for electric lighting and, she fervently hoped, indoor plumbing.

      Adam led the way onto the porch, shook himself free of his slicker and stamped the loose mud off his boots. He turned to look down at Sara as if just now realizing who and what he had dragged home.

      “Looks cozy.” She managed a fairly convincing smile even though her teeth were chattering.

      “It is—for one person.” He paused at the door.

      Sara understood his reluctance to invite her in, given her disgusting, filthy condition. “Is there any way I can get the mud washed off my back before we go inside? I don’t want to dirty your nice cabin.”

      Adam’s expression was cynical. “I’m a bachelor. What makes you think the house is any cleaner than you are?”

      “Well, I…” She knew she was blushing but there was no way to stop. In spite of the man’s contentious attitudes and mercurial moods she kind of liked him. Which meant that his teasing affected her more than it normally would have.

      He took her by the shoulders and turned her around, checking the parts of her clothing she could only assume were as ghastly as they felt.

      “You’ll do,” Adam said. “Rain washed the worst of it off. By the time we both get clean and dry the place will be a mess, anyway. Come on.” He opened the door and ushered her inside, giving her a cautious but firm shove between the shoulder blades.

      Sara felt Samson try to scoot through the door beside her. Only Adam’s presence of mind and stem command kept the sopping-wet dog from joining them. “No. Out!”

      “Can’t he come in, too?”

      “You and I will dry him off later. After we get ourselves taken care of.” Adam paused and frowned. “That is, providing I can come up with enough towels.”

      Hugging her pack to her chest, Sara scanned the narrow, rectangular room. The place looked more like a hunting or fishing lodge than it did a house. There was a half-full dog dish the size of grandma’s Dutch oven tucked beside a long-legged, antique gas stove in the kitchen area. Next to the food sat a water bowl nearly as big.

      The remainder of the room seemed to be centered around a coal-black, wood-burning behemoth. It sat on abbreviated legs, silently radiating heat and looking just like a pudgy oil drum with cast-ron decorations.

      Sara hesitated. The place smelled very masculine. Oh, not like old socks or anything. Just different. As if a man, this man, had made it his private den. Clearly, the cabin was his special sanctuary. And she was an intruder.

      “Really, I…” Embarrassed, Sara hung back close to the door. She didn’t want to impose any more than she already had. Yet what choice was there? All her camping gear and clothing, except what she carried in the one small pack, was back at the car, inaccessible. If she were in her companion’s shoes she would gladly offer shelter and assistance, so why did it bother her so much to accept the same from him?

      Adam had removed his boots and was stoking the wood stove, oblivious to her uneasiness. “Slip off your shoes and leave them on the rug there by the door.” He flipped open the cast iron door with a noisy clank and poked the dying embers with a stick. “I’ll take care of them later.”

      Sara suddenly felt his gaze settle on her, warming her far more than the stove. She tensed. “What? What is it? Did I do something wrong?”

      Grumbling, Adam looked away. “No. Just hurry up, will you? I’d like to get out of my wet clothes.”

      Her eyes widened. “Excuse me?”

      “There’s only one bathroom. I don’t intend for us to share it, okay?” He gestured with a tilt of his head. “Over there. Through that door. And don’t use up all the hot water.”

      Sara giggled softly. “The bathroom is inside, isn’t it? I mean, you’re not going to tell me I have to walk across the yard and back?”

      “Don’t be ridiculous. Of course it’s inside.” One corner of his mouth lifted in a lopsided smile, then quickly resumed its usual moody position. “I have a generator for the electricity to pump the water, too, so you won’t have to go fetch it from the well in a bucket.”

      “Oh, good.”

      “I thought you’d appreciate that.” The wry smile threatened to reappear. “There are towels in the cabinet under the sink, I think. If not, that means I didn’t remember to do the laundry and we’re both up the creek.”

      “Please,” Sara said, “don’t mention creeks or rivers or anything else pertaining to water. I don’t think I’ve ever been this wet.”

      “Stick around these hills long enough and you’ll get used to it,” he told her. “Locals say, if you don’t like the weather, just wait a few minutes and it’ll change. It’s kind of a standing joke.”

      “I can believe that.” She was eyeing the bathroom door. “Um, I do have one other request, if you don’t mind.”

      “What is that?”

      “Well, there’s a sweatshirt and some personal things in my pack but I don’t have any other dry clothes with me at the moment. Do you suppose you could loan me something to wear? Just till my skirt dries.”

      “Yeah, sure. I think I can find something that will fit you.”

      To Sara’s surprise he went to the bed instead of the dresser and dragged a low, flat, storage box from beneath it. Straightening, he tossed a pair of jeans her way as if they were of no consequence, but she could tell by the expression on his face that he cared very much about whoever the clothing belonged to. Or had belonged to.

      Was he was hiding out up here in the wilderness to lick his wounds? Recovering from a disappointing love affair? Well, why not? She was.

      “Thanks,” Sara called back, as she headed for the bathroom and ducked inside. The room was spartan

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