voice spoke over the wind. “Who are you?”
Maria jerked her head up to find a man standing at the edge of the crevice. She had enough time to register his puzzled look before she lost her balance and toppled backward.
He reached out a hand one second too late to grab her wrist. Maria stumbled down the slope, rolling head over feet until she landed on her bottom in six inches of icy water and large stones.
The cold felt like an electric shock. It left her breathless.
This time she took the strong hand offered her by the man who climbed down. He hauled her to her feet and peered into her face.
“Are you hurt, miss?” His brown hair was close cut around his rectangular face.
Through the mud in her eyes and the gloom, it was difficult to get more than an impression of his features. A faint smell of fresh-baked bread hung about him.
“Uh, no. No. I’m not hurt, just bruised.” Her teeth began to chatter.
“Who are you?” he asked.
“Me?”
“You do seem to be the only lady standing in my creek.” He took her by the elbow and guided her out of the water onto the gravel bank.
“Well, I’m, er…” Her teeth chattered so hard she couldn’t answer.
He raised an eyebrow and bent over, checking around the smashed car with a flashlight.
She squeezed her arms tight around herself. “What are you doing?”
“I’m making sure this vehicle isn’t leaking any contaminants into my creek.” He made a slow circle around the car before he straightened and clicked off the flashlight. “It seems to be just fine.”
Maria eyed the mangled blue car and the man’s easy smile. Fine? Did he say fine? The weight of the whole disastrous day splintered the remnants of her self-control.
The blood roared in her ears. “Everything’s all right? Look at that car. How exactly could that be all right? Duke is going to be furious when he finds the side bashed in. How can you even use the word fine when describing this mess, Mr.…Mr.…”
He raised an eyebrow. “Sheridan. Cy Sheridan. And you are?”
She felt herself unraveling like a loose thread. Her words came out in a shriek through her chattering teeth without any guidance from her brain. “Me? I am nobody important. I am certainly not someone who is standing here freezing. I’m definitely not a woman who has lost the most important thing in her life today. And I am surely not a gal who has only had a pack of doughnuts to eat since last night.” The hysterical words bounced along the creek bed, echoing off into the night.
The man blinked, his head cocked. “I see. Well, do you want to get out of this miserable night and come in for a cup of tea? If you have no other plans, that is.”
The words took the oomph out of her rant. He was offering shelter and cups of tea? It sounded civilized enough and his smile was welcoming, but her trust level was lower than it had been two days ago. Her gut wrenched with indecision. He didn’t seem like the type who would be luring her into his house for nefarious purposes. Come to think of it, what other choice did she have? She had nowhere to go and no way to get there. “Um, well…yes, uh, that would be nice.”
She took his offered hand and they scrambled up the slope. His fingers were warm against her chilled palm.
At the top, she hesitated. “I’ve got to get Hank out of the car before he gets wet.”
“Hank?”
She nodded. “I sort of rescued him.”
“Hank is…?”
“A rabbit. A three-legged rabbit. He’s in a cage in the backseat.”
Cy’s laughter was a deep baritone. “Then Hank is invited to tea, also.”
A minute later Cy wrestled the crate out through the dented door while she retrieved her backpack. They walked through clusters of pine-scented trees toward the faint flicker of light in the distance.
Maria looked around for the massive figure that had frightened her earlier. “I saw a man. A really big man. He screamed louder than I did when we saw each other. That wasn’t you, was it?”
“That would be Stew. He’s my right-hand man but he’s not much of a people person. He’ll have to retreat to his room for who knows how long to recover. You’ve probably taken a few years off his life, crashing your car here.”
“I didn’t exactly…” Maria bit back the retort. He was right; she had wrecked a car on his property. Besides, he was inviting her into someplace warm and dry, and including her rabbit. The situation called for good manners along with extreme caution.
“We don’t get much company out here except for the inmates,” he said. “Bit of an isolated spot.”
Her pulse sped up. Inmates?
They approached a small wood-sided house with a stone chimney that poked out at an awkward angle. Cy eased the front door open with his foot and held it open for her.
The interior was small and blissfully warm, thanks to a fire that crackled in a stone fireplace. A worn sofa and wooden rocking chair huddled on a braided rug. She could make out the outline of a miniscule kitchen that adjoined the living room and a hallway that led to the back of the house.
Maria was deliriously happy to huddle close to the fire and warm her numb fingers. She kept a close eye on the rabbit. And her host.
Cy eased the cage onto the floor and peered through the bars. “Good thing this cage is solid. He seems okay. I’ll get him some celery while I heat up the kettle.”
Maria listened to him bang around in the kitchen. She paced the cozy room, eyeing the crowded bookshelf. Most of the volumes were biology-related with a few poetry books and one about photography. A Bible with a tattered cover sat on a tiny wood table. Behind the writing desk was a large paper map stuck full of pins. Her attention was diverted by a small movement. On the pass-through between the kitchen and the living room was an aquarium. She bent closer until her nose almost touched the glass.
A frog about the size of a baby shoe peered back at her. His smooth mottled skin blended in perfectly with the rock and foliage on which he sat. She watched his throat vibrate. “Hi, little guy. What are you doing here?”
Cy appeared over the counter. “I’m sure he would say hello right back at you if he could.”
“What’s his name? Is he your pet?”
“His name is Rana pretiosa but you can just call him a Spotted Frog. He’s not a pet, he’s a patient. A feral cat got hold of him and chomped him up pretty good, but he’s on the mend. He’ll be back looking for a mate in no time, God willing.”
“So you’re a frog doctor?”
Cy laughed. “I’m a frog doc among other things.” He rounded the corner and handed her a mug of tea. Droplets of water shone in his hair.
