LITMIR.BIZ

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in New York.

      “Jeremy’s been calling,” Dee said. “He seems lost without you. I didn’t tell him you had a cell phone, but maybe I should. He’s desperate to talk to you. I could give him the number and—”

      “Please, Dee—I don’t want to talk to Jeremy, and besides, the reception out here is really bad. The phone doesn’t work unless you’re outside the house, so he probably couldn’t reach me even if you gave him the number.”

      “I take it that means you’re planning to stay.”

      “I’m staying, Dee. For the full six months, at any rate.”

      Something beeped on the other end of the phone. “Darn it, my other line is ringing,” Dee said. “I’ll pacify Jeremy for as long as I can, but call me again—soon. I worry about you, you know.”

      “I know, and thanks, Dee. The only thing I really miss up here is my family and friends.” Charity rang off and walked back to the house, feeling a little bit lonely. It wasn’t unexpected. She was miles from home and living on her own, but it was exciting, too.

      In the afternoon, the rain stopped and the sun came out. Since the toilet still wasn’t working, she walked out to the little wooden shed she was growing to hate more every day. She was finished and heading back to the cabin, dodging the mud puddles that lined the path, when she heard a rustle in the bushes behind her.

      Charity stopped and turned, searching the thick green forest on the hill. “Smoke? Smoke, is that you, boy?” God, she hoped it was. But Smoke didn’t appear and the rustling grew louder. When she spotted a patch of long brown fur moving among the branches of a tree, Charity screamed and started running.

      Unfortunately, she forgot about the protruding branch of a shrub she had stepped over on her way to the latrine. Her pant leg caught. She tripped and went sprawling—right into a puddle of mud. Charity jerked her head around, too frightened to care about the murky stuff sticking to her clothes, certain that a bear was about to charge out of the woods any minute and chew her into little pieces.

      Instead, a cute little furry brown creature the size of a cat jumped down from a rock and raced away, its long, fluffy tail dragging behind its small body.

      Charity groaned in frustration and slammed her fist into the mud, sending up a stream of brackish water.

      She was muttering, silently cursing as she dragged herself to her feet. Her clean, white turtleneck was covered with mud and so were the jeans she had dried overnight in front of the pellet stove. Mud clung to her boots and oozed between her fingers.

      “I don’t believe this,” she grumbled, slinging mud from her arms and knocking it off her pant legs.

      “Somehow I don’t have the least problem believing it.” The sound of Call Hawkins’s voice jerked her gaze toward the trees.

      He crossed his arms over that granite-hard chest. “I swear, sweet pea, if you’re that afraid of a cute little weasel, what’s going to happen when you run across a bear?”

      A growl of frustration rose from her throat. “What are you doing here? And by the way, you’re trespassing. Do you realize that?”

      “I was looking for Smoke. He used to hang around when Mose lived in the cabin. I thought I might find him over here.” He eyed her muddy clothes and she heard him chuckle, sending her temper up a notch.

      Charity stomped toward him, slinging mud with every step. She didn’t stop till she was inches away and staring into his face. “So you think this is funny?”

      He reached out and wiped a splatter of mud off her cheek. “Yeah, I do.”

      “It could have been a bear instead of a weasel. I only saw the fur.”

      “It could have been a squirrel, too. And technically it wasn’t a weasel, it was a marten.”

      Charity ignored the unwanted information. “What is it with you? Why do you always appear at exactly the wrong moment? You’re like … like some kind of evil genie or something.”

      He laughed and she wanted to hit him. “Evil genie. I’ve been called a lot of things, but never anything close to an evil genie. I think I kind of like it.”

      She poked a finger into the middle of his chest, which was as hard as she remembered. “I know I’m new out here, but I’m not stupid. In time, I’ll figure things out.”

      His smile slid away. The bluest eyes she’d ever seen were staring at her mouth. “I’m sure you will,” he said a little gruffly.

      “If you were any kind of neighbor, you’d try to help me instead of causing me trouble.”

      “Listen, doll face, if anyone’s trouble around here, it’s you.”

      She swallowed. His gaze moved slowly down her body and fixed on her breasts, and her nipples peaked as if they could feel it. He was breathing a little faster than he was before and suddenly so was she. She could feel the heat emanating from his big, hard body, smell his scent. It wrapped around her like smoke from a fire, heating her up from the inside out. His mouth was so close she could measure the fullness of his bottom lip. If he bent his head he could kiss her.

      Something shifted in the air between them. It felt thicker, heavier. He was so tall and male, so damned handsome. Desire coiled through her limbs, tugged low in her belly. His eyes locked with hers, as blue as the tip of a flame. For several long seconds, neither of them moved.

      Then Call stepped away. “You’re right,” he said roughly. “This isn’t easy country and as you say, we’re neighbors. If there’s something you need, let me know.”

      “Wh-what?”

      “I said, if—”

      “I heard what you said.” She eyed him with no little uncertainty. “You mean it?”

      He sighed, raked a hand through his thick, dark brown hair, dislodging several shiny strands. They curled as they fell across his forehead. “I suppose so.”

      “Why?”

      “Because at the rate you’re going, you’ll wind up getting hurt and I’d hate to see that happen.”

      “I’m tougher than you think.”

      His mouth curved and her stomach floated up beneath her ribs. “I’m beginning to believe that. I saw you working the dredge yesterday.”

      She couldn’t help a smile. “I think I’m getting the hang of it.”

      “Keep your eye on Buck.”

      She didn’t have to ask what he meant. “I will.” Charity didn’t say more and neither did he. She watched him walk away, thought how sexy he looked in a pair of jeans, and felt a renewed shot of lust. Her heart was thumping and her palms felt damp. It was ridiculous. The man was arrogant and pushy, cranky, and most of the time, downright unfriendly.

      She couldn’t remember ever feeling such an unwanted attraction to a man.

      Sally Beecham slid into the leather seat of Call’s black Jeep. The vehicle wasn’t flashy, but it was obvious he had spared no expense when he bought it. Equipped with a powerful, thick-cabled winch on the front, super-wide, ten-ply tires, a roll bar, and a black vinyl top, there wasn’t a four-wheel drive in Dawson that could compare. Her teenage son, Jimmy, and all his high-school friends were hoping she and Call would get together just so Jimmy could try it out, see what it could do.

      Sally was hoping she and Call would get together, too, because she was crazy about him. Besides, everybody knew he was rich.

      “You ready?” Call asked. She’d had to trade shifts with Betty Tisdale to get Saturday night off, and work a late shift for Betty next week, but if things turned out the way she planned, it would be worth it.

      “Just let me get my coat.” Sally went into the bedroom of her small, wood-frame house on Queen Street and

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