The Bride's Second Thought. Elizabeth August
Читать онлайн книгу.
inside the car.
His manner left no room for compromise. Following him to the snowmobile, she was aware of his pet watching her. The animal’s scrutiny added to her nervousness. “I don’t think your dog likes me.”
“He’s a wolf, and he’s not mine. He belongs to a friend of mine. So does the cabin we’re going to.” Peter motioned for the wolf to come closer. “Friend,” he said firmly. “Now home!”
The wolf took off at a run down the lane.
After brushing the snow from the seat, Peter climbed onto the snowmobile. Ellen climbed on behind him. With nothing else to hold on to, she was forced to wrap her arms around his waist. As they started down the lane, she’d intended to stay as far from her rescuer as possible. But the bitter wind changed her mind. Huddling against his back, she let his bulk protect her.
The lane wound through the forest for what seemed like forever. Just when she was beginning to wonder if there was a cabin, she smelled wood smoke. Peering around the broad shoulder protecting her from the elements, she saw a clearing with a building in the center. As they drew closer she realized it was a real log cabin.
The wolf shook the snow off its coat as Ellen and the stranger mounted the porch steps. Her rescuer also paused on the porch to brush himself off and stomp some of the snow off his boots. She followed his example before entering behind the wolf.
The interior of the cabin was a pleasant surprise. Considering her companion’s mountain man appearance, she’d expected something totally rustic. Instead, the furniture was comfortable looking, and there was a cozy atmosphere. A fireplace with logs blazing was to one side. A couch and chair grouping fronted it. Toward the back was a kitchen section with a heavy wooden table and chairs. Above the fireplace area was a loft. Three doors led off the central living area. One was ajar, and she saw a bed.
“The bathroom’s over there.” Peter motioned toward one of the two closed doors. “I’ll be back with your suitcases in a little while. Is there anything else you want from your car?”
Feeling guilty about sending him out into the storm, she said hurriedly, “There’s really no need for you to go out there again. I can get along fine until tomorrow, and then I’ll be on my way.”
At least she wasn’t spoiled, Peter thought. The last thing he wanted was to be cloistered with a demanding female. “There’s no way to be certain when we’ll get dug out up here. The snow is supposed to continue through the night, and, with the way the wind is blowing, it’ll probably drift up onto your car. If I wait, I’ll have to dig out your car just to get to your luggage. Now, is there anything else you want?”
She realized that arguing would be futile. “There’s an overnight bag in the trunk.”
He extended his hand for her keys. As soon as she dropped them into his palm, he left.
Turning to look out the window, she saw him remount the snowmobile and disappear into the snowy night. She’d hoped there would be a wife and children in the cabin, but there didn’t appear to be anyone else here. Recalling that he’d said the place belonged to a friend, she called out a hello. There was no answer. Apparently, it was going to be just her, the man and the wolf. This thought caused an uneasy curl to work its way through her. “You’ve gotten yourself into a fine mess,” she grumbled at herself.
Suddenly afraid that the wolf would decide she wasn’t a friend after all, her gaze swung to the fireplace. The animal was lying near the hearth, his head up, watching her, as if wondering if he should trust her or not.
“Don’t worry, I don’t intend to take anything or stay long,” she assured him.
He lowered his head onto his paws, but his gaze remained on her.
Moving slowly, not wanting to give him any reason for alarm, she removed her coat and hung it on one of the pegs by the door. Next came the boots. As she took off the sweatpants, she congratulated herself for having put them on. The snow had clung to them and, still unmelted, its dampness had not yet penetrated to her jeans.
Nature called and she headed to the bathroom. It was larger than she’d expected and clean. There was an old-fashioned, legged bathtub and all the other amenities. The faint scent of aftershave reminded her of her rescuer.
She hadn’t gotten a very good look at him when they’d entered the cabin. In fact all she’d really noticed was a pair of the deepest blue eyes she’d ever seen... impatient, reproving blue eyes.
Leaving the bathroom, she walked slowly around the main living area, taking stock of her surroundings. A quick peek in the second room with a closed door revealed a study. Two walls were lined with filled bookshelves. There was a desk with an elaborate computer in front of the window. On the other side wall was another desk with a ham radio. Climbing the ladder to the loft she found a mattress up there and guessed this was the guest quarters.
“Nice place,” she addressed the wolf as she descended to the main floor. She’d been aware that the animal’s gaze had never left her.
He made no response.
Her body finally warming, the second sweater she was wearing was beginning to feel unnecessary. Stripping it off, she settled onto the couch. But she didn’t relax. Guilt for having allowed her rescuer to again go out in the storm plagued her. She told herself that he was obviously used to this kind of weather. Still, her anxiousness increased. The wind was blowing even more forcefully now, producing an angry wrathlike howl. Crossing to the window, she peered out at the night. The snow was falling so thickly, she could barely see beyond the rail of the roofed porch.
“He’ll be all right,” she said aloud, using the sound of her voice to bolster her courage. Glancing toward the wolf, she saw him continuing to watch her. “Well, I told him he didn’t have to go out,” she said in her defense.
Suddenly the wolf was on its feet, and the fear that it had decided she wasn’t a friend caused her legs to weaken. Then, above the storm, she heard the sound of a motor. A moment later she saw a faint light and breathed a sigh of relief.
She opened the door when the man reached the porch. “Thanks,” she said as he entered and set her suitcase and overnight bag on the floor, then removed his coat,
Sitting down in a nearby chair, Peter concentrated on taking off his boots. “You’re welcome.”
The relief she’d been feeling proved fleeting. Beneath his heavy coat, her rescuer was wearing a heavy red plaid flannel shirt over a white turtleneck. Despite the layering, she could see his shoulders were broad, and as he bent to unlace his boots, there was no evidence of a potbelly getting in his way. His jeans fit snugly around muscular thighs, and she guessed that with his boots off he’d stand a little over six feet tall.
She placed his age somewhere in the early- to mid-thirties. His thick, dark brown hair was shaggy around the ears and hung to his collar in the back. As for his face, when he’d looked up at her, the blueness of his eyes had again grabbed and held her attention. Now, however, she noted that his nose was average and his cheekbones high. Beneath the heavy beard and mustache, she guessed he probably had a lantern jaw. Of course, she could be entirely wrong. Maybe he’d grown the beard to cover a weak chin. That, however, would be the only weak thing about him, she thought as he put his boots aside and rose.
She’d been concentrating on her inspection of him in an attempt to ignore the growing fear within her. But she could ignore it no longer. She was alone in an isolated cabin, in the midst of a blizzard, with a man she didn’t know and a wolf who didn’t seem all that friendly.
He took a step toward her, and she took a step back.
Peter frowned patronizingly. “Don’t worry. I’m not a crazed backwoodsman who hasn’t seen a woman in years. You don’t have anything to fear from me.”
She knew she didn’t look her best. Her short brown hair was a wet stringy mess of curls. Her makeupless face was pale and drawn from strain causing her best feature—her dark brown eyes—to look sunken and overly large. Even at her best she