with dark circles under the eyes. Neve grimaced at herself in the glass, swiping her free hand through her unruly blonde curls in an effort to make herself look vaguely presentable.
‘Who’s there?’
‘Joe Lamont. I’m looking for Dr Harrison.’
‘What…?’ Neve bit her tongue. There wasn’t much point in asking what he was doing out on a night like this if she was going to leave him standing on the doorstep. She pulled the door open, and a gust of freezing air blew the candle out, leaving her staring at a large, black shadow.
‘Come in. I was about to phone you.’
‘Thanks…’ The figure kicked his heavy boots against the doorstep, and stepped inside, pushing the door closed behind him. ‘Your doorbell isn’t working.’
‘No, the power’s off. Wait there a moment. I’ll just open the kitchen door to give us some light…’ Suddenly, a torch beam almost blinded her, and a gloved hand found hers.
‘Here. Take this.’
For a moment all Neve could register was his smell. Warm and clean, the kind of scent produced by the chemistry of soap and skin, rather than anything you got from a bottle. Then he put the torch into her hand, stepping back almost immediately, as if to give her some space.
‘Thanks.’ She had a strong temptation to shine the light in the direction of Joe’s outline, but Neve resisted it and turned, leading the way through the hallway. ‘Come through.’
She shut the kitchen door behind them, watching while Joe pulled his gloves off and unzipped his heavy jacket. He was tall, with what looked like broad shoulders, but that might just be the bulk of his clothing. In the torchlight, his cheekbones looked as sharp as knives.
‘Are you okay out here on your own?’
His voice was deep, with the trace of a Canadian accent along with a little of the cadence of the Yorkshire village he’d made his home. The kind of voice you’d want to hear if you were in trouble. Neve almost began to wish she was.
‘I’m fine, thanks. I have heat and light.’ She switched off the torch, and in the candlelight his features seemed to soften.
He looked around. ‘And food?’
‘Yes.’ Enough to keep her going for another day. ‘I’m making tea—would you like a cup?’
His gaze flicked quickly around the room, as if he was still unconvinced about something, then he nodded. ‘Thanks. That would be nice.’
‘Sit down.’ She waved him towards the table. ‘And why don’t you take your coat off? You’ll melt in here.’
He slung his coat over the back of a chair and sat, running one hand absently across the scarred oak tabletop, his fingers seeming to explore the grain. ‘You get hot water from the stove?’
‘Yes. The power goes out from time to time here, so I had an oil-fired stove put in.’ It appeared the questioning wasn’t over quite yet. That was okay, he could ask. Neve had made sure that she could deal with pretty much anything the world chose to throw at her, and she had the answers.
The touch of humour that twitched at the sides of his mouth suited him. ‘I guess I’ll just stop with the neighbourly concern, shall I?’
‘It’s appreciated. But not needed at the moment.’ She hid her smile behind the open door of the larder, reaching for the biscuit barrel and laying it on the table next to the teapot. ‘Help yourself.’
He took the mug of tea that she slid across the table towards him with a nod of acknowledgement. He seemed… tense wasn’t the word. He seemed watchful, taking in everything around him, as if he needed to keep an eye on the world to keep it spinning. Neve began to wish that she’d found the time to fold the sofa bed back up this morning. Hopefully, any stray underwear would go unnoticed in the candlelight.
‘You’re not from around here?’ His attention was fixed on Neve now and, before she could stop it, her hand flew to her hair to smooth it back. ‘The South somewhere?’
‘London.’
He nodded. ‘I must be improving. When I first came here, all I could hear was that everyone had British accents.’
‘And you’re from Canada…?’
His smile had the same sense of discipline about it as all his other movements did. Graceful, economical, and with a sense of purpose about it. And gorgeous.
‘Right in one. Most people reckon I’m from America.’
‘Actually, Maisie told me. I imagine you’ve got a lot more experience of driving in these conditions than me.’ Best get back to business. That smile, the relaxed, watchful curve of his body was distracting her.
‘A bit. It’s a little different at home…’
‘Snow’s snow, isn’t it?’
‘My Inupiak granny wouldn’t agree with you there. She lived on the ice when she was a child, and could write a book about different kinds of snow.’
That explained his striking looks. Raven-dark hair that grazed the collar of his thick sweater. Dark eyes and proud cheekbones. ‘So how did you end up in Yorkshire?’
‘My other grandmother came from around here. Her family went to Canada when she was a child, but she used to tell me stories about England. I decided to pay a visit and ended up staying.’ He looked at his tea, as if taking a second sip was yet another thing that required a thought-through decision. ‘It’s a good base to travel to Europe from.’
Neve would have thought that London would be better. But Joe didn’t seem the type to spend much time worrying about what other people thought. ‘You travel a lot?’
He shrugged. ‘A bit. I’ve seen most of Europe. Africa, Asia.’ He made a small, dismissive movement of his hand, as if this all meant nothing. ‘How long have you been here?’
‘Eighteen months.’
‘Love at first sight?’
‘Eh?’ Suddenly she was falling into the depths of his dark eyes. Not quite love at first sight, but there was definitely something about him…
‘You fell in love with this place. Like me.’
Nothing like that. Yorkshire had been somewhere to run to, and the most lovely thing about this particular location was that it was remote. ‘I’m growing to love it. Maisie’s been very good to me.’
He nodded. ‘She’s a force to be reckoned with, isn’t she? When she called me, asking for help, there was no saying no…’
‘But I thought… Aren’t you a volunteer?’
‘Seems I am now.’
Neve’s heart sank. ‘So Maisie talked you into this. Listen, if you don’t want—’
‘It’s okay. I was getting a little cabin crazy doing nothing
