LITMIR.BIZ

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and the loving blinks of his big brown eyes soothed her. “Nothing right now.” She paused. “I was a motivational speaker, but not anymore.”

      “Taking a sabbatical, too?”

      Despite his charmed grin, she didn’t respond. That was a topic she did not feel like discussing. She’d only recently decided to stop speaking about positive thinking. And she’d told no one in her family about that. Jazzing others up with positive energy used to give her positive energy, and then she realized this was who she was. A loner. Not the interesting person she personified in front of an audience.

      Leaning forward to kiss the soft fur of Gandalf’s nose, she turned and walked for the exit.

      Korbin picked up his bag and followed. Back out in the snowstorm, Savanna was aware of his glances as they trekked through the deep snow. Then his attention shifted to the house. Big, golden logs jutted out at the corners, except at one end, where the turret rose like a sentinel. Made of black gneiss like the chimney, the color and texture contrasted beautifully with the logs.

      Korbin closed the door behind him, taking in the open walk-in closet filled with winter gear. “You must have been some motivational speaker.”

      When would he get the hint that she wasn’t going to talk about that? She hung up her jacket and removed her boots and snow pants. Now down to her base layer, she ignored Korbin’s appreciation of the close-fitting material, a floral-patterned white thermal top and matching tights.

      He was in wet jeans.

      “Would you like me to dry those?” she asked.

      “Sure.”

      She looked up at him watching her. “I’ll show you to the guest room.” Turning, she led him into the living room, seeing how he missed no detail. Upstairs, they passed her loft and went down a hallway.

      At the first door, across from a full bathroom, she stopped and flipped on the light switch. Lamps on each side of the bed illuminated tan walls and the cushiony white comforter with soft green throw pillows. Sheer drapes hung parted over two windows on each side and a dark square iron decoration in a sun-like shape hung above the bed.

      When he nodded his thanks with one more sweep of his gaze over her thermal underwear, she closed the door and went to her master bedroom, this one bigger. Although the walls were the same color, a painting of a mountain meadow in fall hung above a king-size bed covered in reds and yellows, and there was a balcony where she planned to do a lot of reading in the summer. Going into her oversize walk-in closet, she changed into some spandex pants and a flannel shirt. Leaving her room, she passed his still-closed door and went back downstairs to wait for him, unable to explain her sense of foreboding.

      In her large kitchen, she went to the phone stand and looked up her neighbor’s number. There was no cell service up here.

      Holding the phone to her ear, she walked into the living room while the phone rang a few times. Then Hurley answered.

      “It’s Savanna.”

      “Are you okay?” he asked.

      “Yeah.” At least, she hoped so. She glanced up to the railing that exposed the loft and hallway and the still-closed guest room door.

      “It’s snowing pretty good out there,” he said.

      “Yes. A man got stuck on my road. He told me that he was on his way to that cabin across from your lodge. Have you heard anything about that?”

      “No. Chavis keeps to himself. I’ve only met him a few times. Why? Are you worried?”

      “No.” She relaxed a little. Korbin had said the man’s name was Chavis.

      “How did he end up at your place?”

      “He took a wrong turn and got stuck on my road. I didn’t have it plowed.”

      “I bet you aren’t happy about that.”

      Hurley knew her well enough to know she liked her isolation. Most people who lived up here did. They weren’t city folks.

      “I’ll manage.” She looked out the gabled window. Heavy snow falling under outdoor lights didn’t have the comfort value it had before she spotted the truck on her road.

      “You sure you’re okay? Robert and I can ride over on snowmobiles. You can stay the night here.”

      “No.” Savanna felt trapped in other people’s houses, and she’d especially feel that way now. “I’ll be all right.”

      “If you’re sure...”

      “I’m sure. He’s harmless enough.”

      “All right, then. I’ll call Mike and have him out there first thing tomorrow morning to plow your road.”

      “You’re too good to me.”

      “I’m a phone call away, Savanna.”

      She smiled. “I know. Thanks, Hurley.” He was about ten years older than her and married to a sweet woman who cooked with the skill of an executive chef.

      Hanging up the phone, she put the handset down on a side table next to the sofa. Straightening, she turned and her body jolted. Korbin stood there. She hadn’t heard him come down the stairs.

      He’d changed into a long-sleeved soft-gray henley and distressed denim jeans. His feet were bare. Back up at his face, she was drawn into his ghost-gray eyes. Messy, thick black hair was cut to about an inch and a half, and stubble peppered his jaw. He had an unnerving way about him. More than his size, an eerie mystery shrouded him.

      “Feel better now that you’ve checked up on me?” he asked.

      Was he insulted? No. She saw that he was teasing her.

      “I promise I won’t bite,” he said.

      “Okay, but I might.” She smiled but the message was clear. She would bite if he got out of line.

      Although he didn’t smile or grin, his eyes showed his humor—or was that shrewdness? “Then we’re both safe.”

      She went to the stereo. Shutting that off, she turned on the television. The channel was set to a local station. The news.

      Korbin appeared, walking slowly, observing as he had before, missing no detail. He picked up the remote from where she’d set it on a side table.

      “Do you mind?” he asked.

      She shook her head and he changed the channel to something on the wilderness of China. She sat down on a white leather chair, debating whether she should call Hurley back and ask him to come pick this man up and take him to the lodge.

      “What’s a young, beautiful woman like you doing living in the mountains all alone?” He sat on the other leather chair. “What are you? Twenty?”

      “Thirty-three. You?”

      “Thirty-eight.”

      “Where do you live?”

      “Is this where we get to know each other?” he asked, now with a slight grin.

      She didn’t think he was flirting, just keeping it light. “I’ve never had a stranger in my house before.”

      “I live in Denver. I bought a house in Montana, but I don’t go there much.”

      Two houses? Why Montana? And why didn’t he go there much? “Not married?”

      “Not anymore.” His terse answer and the dousing of any sign of humor alerted her to something amiss. With his arms on the rests, he tapped his palm against one in agitation.

      She didn’t push him further. She understood the need to avoid those types of subjects. “Are you from Montana?”

      “No. I grew up in North Carolina.”

      Work must have brought him to Colorado. She suspected the house in Montana

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