LITMIR.BIZ

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day.

      Though he had to admit, she’d handled her rescue with a lot more fortitude than he would have given her credit for, under the circumstances. If she could hang on to that kind of grit for a while, they might just survive the ordeal.

      He felt her stumble and tightened his grip on her waist. Even though the parka added padding to her slim body, he was instantly aware of her lithe figure. He had to be crazy. That was the last thing on earth he needed right now. Or any time, come to that, considering who she was.

      He gritted his teeth and concentrated on moving one step at a time toward the cabin, which loomed up slowly in the darkness. Only a few more yards to go. He was practically carrying her now, and he was worried she’d give up altogether before they made it to their broken-down shelter.

      “Hang on, it’s not much further,” he muttered, trying to form the words between harshly drawn breaths. His legs felt as if they were weighted down in lead boots. His back ached and his jaw hurt from clenching his teeth to stop them chattering. He longed for a shot of double-malt scotch, and could almost feel the heat of it coating his stomach. That was only one of the things he’d have to do without, he thought grimly.

      At long last, he reached the front steps of the cabin and could release his heavy load. “Well, Annie,” he said, forcing an enthusiasm in his voice he was far from feeling, “it looks like we made it.”

      “Thank God.” She was panting, and her words came out in little spurts. “I don’t think I could have gone another step.”

      Brad eyed the cabin with a dubious frown. The windows were cracked and layered with dust, and the roof probably leaked. Its primitive walls, fashioned from logs, looked sturdy enough, however, and would give them shelter until help arrived. He had no doubt that at least for the time being, the most sensible thing to do was to stay put and wait for the rescue squad.

      It wouldn’t be a picnic, by any means. His companion was as prickly as a porcupine, and made no secret of the fact that she considered him too low to lick her boots. He wasn’t sure how long he could hold his temper in the face of such undisguised contempt. He just hoped that he could hang on to his sense of humor, and that they wouldn’t kill each other while they were waiting.

      Anne sank down onto the creaking wooden step and buried her face in her hands. She couldn’t have gone another step. In fact, if it hadn’t been for Brad’s arm supporting her, she wouldn’t have made it this far.

      She owed him a lot. The thought didn’t help her mood any. He was bound to be insufferable about it when this was all over.

      “How are you doing?”

      She looked up at the sound of his voice. “I’ll be fine when I’ve had a chance to rest.”

      “Well, don’t get too comfortable.” He rattled the handle of the door. “First we have to find a way inside this shack, then we have to find some way to build a fire.”

      “Wouldn’t that be breaking and entering?” She looked warily at the battered windows. “What if the owner comes back in the morning?”

      “We’ll welcome him with open arms.” He shook his head at her, spraying fine drops of water from the melted snow in his dark blond hair. “This is survival, Annie. The owner will understand that.”

      “What if he’s in there, sleeping?”

      “Then he’s deaf.” Brad moved over to a window and ran his fingers along the edge. “I pounded the heck out of the door on my way down.”

      She stared at him as a thought occurred to her. “Why didn’t you break in then? Why did you keep going instead of waiting out the storm in here?”

      He kept his face hidden from her as he examined the window. “I was looking for you.”

      She felt a jolt of surprise. “You mean you didn’t just stumble across me by accident?”

      “Well, I have to admit, there was a certain element of luck to it. I lost sight of everyone when the first wave hit. I got thrown around a bit and when I surfaced I saw your broken ski. I figured you couldn’t be too far away.”

      She frowned. “How did you know it was my ski? It could have been anyone’s. It could have been your girlfriend’s. Where is she, by the way?”

      “What girlfriend?”

      “The giggling redhead making a fool of herself out there with you.”

      He glanced at her. “Oh, you mean Marlene. She’s not my girlfriend. She’s just someone I got paired up with for the midnight run.”

      “How convenient for you.”

      “I’m surprised you noticed.”

      Anne pretended to be examining her injured ankle. “She was a little hard to miss, considering the way she was falling all over you.”

      “Jealous?”

      She managed a scornful laugh. “The only thing I’d be jealous about is if she’d made it down the mountain and was lying in a comfortable bed in the lodge.”

      “Which is probably where she is right now. The last I saw of her she was heading through the trees well out of the way of the avalanche.”

      “Well, good for her,” Anne muttered.

      “Which is why I knew the broken ski didn’t belong to her. Besides, only a Parker would have custom-made skis in hot pink.”

      “Only an Irving would make such a big deal about it.”

      Her comeback was lost as Brad straightened with a satisfied grunt. The window emitted a loud crack and creaked open.

      “You didn’t break it, did you?” Hanging on to the wall, Anne hauled herself to her feet.

      “Nope, so you can stop worrying about the owner suing us. It wasn’t even locked, just frozen shut, which is the way we’re going to be if we don’t get a fire started soon.”

      Anne watched as he poked his head inside the window, then heaved himself over the sill and climbed inside. Within seconds he opened the door.

      Doing her best to disguise her limp, she stepped over the threshold into the damp, musty darkness of the cabin. The beam from Brad’s headlamp had weakened considerably when he directed it around the confined area.

      There was enough light for Anne to make out the woodstove in the middle of the room and the rickety-looking cot tucked into the far corner. Apart from that, there appeared to be no other furniture, except for a small square table and a couple of cheap wooden chairs. She couldn’t really see thick cobwebs hanging in the corners, but she had no doubt they were there.

      “Not exactly Club Med, is it?” Brad murmured.

      If her spirits hadn’t been at an all-time low, then, Anne might even have smiled at that. Right then, however, she couldn’t see much to smile about. The cabin felt almost as damp and cold as the air outside, and smelled of mold and wood smoke.

      The narrow cot seemed to be the only bed available, and the only covering was a ratty looking blanket folded at the bottom of the thin mattress. A cell in Alcatraz would have been more comfortable, and as if that wasn’t enough, she had to spend what was left of the night there with Brad Irving, of all people. All in all, the year was ending on a pretty dismal note.

      “First thing we’d better do is find wood for a fire.” Brad flicked the beam of his headlamp over Anne’s boots. “How’s the ankle?”

      Still smarting from his assessment of her dubious athletic abilities, Anne lied. “It’s fine.”

      “Good. I’ll get the wood. No sense in both of us going out there again. You can stay there on that cot until I get back.”

      The last thing she wanted was to be left alone in the cold darkness of that awful cabin. It would, however, give her a chance to rest her ankle. Nevertheless, she felt compelled

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