Then she turned back. “Let me help you—”
“Just get out of my way,” he mumbled, too exhausted to raise his voice.
Once inside, he closed and locked the door and leaned against it, breathing hard, his eyes closed. When he finally opened them, she was standing in front of him, wringing her hands. “I’m so sorry. You shouldn’t have gone after me. I was okay.”
He stared at her for a long time. “Sure you were. Your lips are blue and you probably have hypothermia. Get those clothes off and get into the shower. Now.” His voice was quite soft. He didn’t know why she rushed away, dragging her suitcase.
She quickly opened it, throwing books and magazines everywhere, found some clothes and quickly went into the bathroom.
He had to get off his good leg or he wouldn’t be able to get around at all. With painful movements he peeled off his winter garb and slowly made his way to his captain’s chair near the potbellied stove.
He sat and carefully removed his boots before he leaned back in his chair.
What had happened out there? He’d been so blasted worried about her that the relief he’d felt when he’d spotted her had caught him off guard. Just because he didn’t want her here didn’t mean he wanted her to die.
Of course he’d been relieved at finding her determinedly dragging that mule train behind her, but what he’d felt at the time was much more than that.
And he didn’t like it.
Three
Leslie stood underneath the warm water. She was so cold. She hadn’t realized how cold until the water hit her skin. Although the water was barely warm, it hurt everywhere it touched her.
She stood with her eyes closed. Why had she done something so foolish? She had no answer.
She dreaded going back into the room where Jason waited. She’d never seen anyone as angry as he was. She worked for accountants who, by and large, were even-tempered people.
Her job! How could she have forgotten? She’d left without telling anyone, not even her boss. A tear trickled down her cheek. As if her whole life hadn’t been turned upside down, she’d let her boss down.
Not that she could have told him what had happened or when she might be able to come back. The fact was that she might be running for the rest of her life. She’d have to find some kind of work, though, to survive. All her savings were tied up with her employee’s benefit package. Sooner or later, she’d be forced to contact them.
Leslie finally turned off the water and stepped out of the shower. Compared to outside, the bathroom now felt almost toasty warm. Well, maybe not quite, but far better than what she’d felt outside.
Remembering her recent trek reminded her that Jason waited on the other side of the door. She shivered. It was a toss-up whether she was more afraid of freezing to death or of facing Jason’s wrath.
At least she had clean clothes to put on. She’d grabbed the first things she could find. Now she understood why people wore long johns in the winter. Too bad she didn’t have any. Once she got away from here, it would be the first item on her shopping list.
Jase forced his quivering arms to hold him as he went into the kitchen alcove. This was one time when he was going to break down and take the pain medication he’d been given.
He’d been trained to ignore pain and had elected not to take the meds because they made him feel weird, as if he was floating or half awake. At the moment he welcomed the sensation if it meant getting some relief.
After he swallowed them, Jase made more coffee, giving a silent plea for the electricity to return. He’d bought a top-of-the-line machine that could be programmed to make coffee. At the moment, his shaking hands spilled as much coffee as he managed to put into the campfire pot he’d found when he moved in. The old drip pot was better than nothing and he needed something hot. As did Leslie.
She’d turned off the shower several minutes ago but after that he’d heard nothing. He supposed he would hear some noise if she’d passed out and crashed onto the floor.
By the time the coffee was ready, the pain pills had taken the edge off and he managed to fill two cups and carry them to the table without spilling scalding coffee all over himself.
He heard the bathroom door open but he didn’t look her way. “Have some coffee. It will help you get warm.”
She didn’t reply but he was damned if he was going to beg her to look after herself. She meant nothing to him. Less than nothing. Hell, he’d only known her for less than twenty-four hours.
He sipped on his coffee, keeping his eyes on the swirling snow, until she walked to the table and sat down. He glanced up at her and quickly away. She had a little color in her cheeks now and her lips were pinker.
“Thank you for coming out to help me,” she said.
He lifted one shoulder in acknowledgment.
“You were right. I shouldn’t have gone out there until the snow stopped. It was foolish and you have every right to be angry with me.”
His head snapped up and he stared at her. “I’m not angry at you.”
“You gave a great imitation, then.”
“I was scared out of my wits, Leslie. You were gone much too long. I figured I’d find your body lying somewhere in a snowdrift.”
A corner of her mouth lifted. “I couldn’t get the trunk open. The lock had frozen.”
“Then how did you get your bag?”
“I blew on it for what seemed like forever in hopes it would thaw a little.” Before he could comment, she said, “I know. It was a stupid thing to do.”
“Not if it worked.” He settled back into his chair. Other than feeling as though he’d had several beers in quick succession, he felt fine. He glanced at her again. She looked like a baby chick with her fine hair in tufts around her face and neck. When she lifted her cup she saw him staring at her. She paused with her coffee halfway to her mouth and blinked.
She really was a cute kid. “How old are you?” he asked.
“Twenty-five.”
“Really. I figured you to be in your teens.”
“How old are you?”
“Just turned thirty.” He could tell she was surprised. Probably thought he was some old crippled geezer. “How old did you think I was?”
“I didn’t know. I’m not very good at judging people’s ages.”
“Ah.” He waited, but when she didn’t say anything more, he asked, “What do you do for a living?”
She placed her cup on the table, folded her hands around it and asked, “What difference does it make?”
“None whatsoever. Just making conversation.”
“That’s
