The Mighty Quinns: Eli. Kate Hoffmann
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delivering supplies and nothing more. Just because he had a nice smile and a charming manner did not mean he wanted to pick her up, wrap her legs around his waist and do the nasty.
“Show some self-control,” Lucy said to herself, pushing off the door.
Still, as she searched the cabin for something decent to wear, she discarded anything that might make her look lumpy. In the end, she settled for yoga pants and a simple chambray shirt that she knotted at the waist.
For the first time since she arrived, she regretted the lack of a mirror in the cabin. It was something that Trudie had prided herself on—the ability to grow comfortable with her natural appearance. Lucy grabbed a brush and quickly ran it through her hair. “Forgive me, Trudie,” she murmured, pinching her cheeks to give herself a bit of color.
When she opened the door again, Eli was sitting on the porch, Riley stretched out beside him. He’d unpacked the supplies he’d brought along, laying them out on the floor. “Is that chocolate?” she asked.
“It is. My mother thought you might need it, but I can take it back down with me if you don’t want it.”
She reached down and grabbed the package of chocolate bars. “Not a chance, mister. Now, if you’d also brought me a triple-shot caramel latte, I might have kissed you.”
“Nope,” he said with a grin. “But I’ll remember that next month.”
* * *
ELI HADN’T PLANNED to spend any time at the cabin. He’d been irritated that his mother had rented out the property, especially for a dumb reality television show, and he wasn’t really looking forward to meeting the new tenant. But then he’d gotten a good look at Lucy Parker.
He’d expected some fortysomething feminist, a woman experienced with life and ready to prove a point to anyone who might be interested. He’d imagined someone like his grandmother, not some sweet-faced, doe-eyed woman with a disarming smile and an amazing body.
It was clear why they’d picked her for the job. Even dressed in raggedy clothes with her hair tangled, she was drop-dead beautiful. She wasn’t wearing a bit of makeup to enhance her features and yet, she had a beauty that was unmatched by any woman he’d ever met.
Her skin was flawless, pale and smooth, and her lips were as pink as ripening fruit. Her hair, thick and flaxen in color, tumbled around her face in a style that was best reserved for the bedroom immediately after sex.
Eli had been prepared to hate her, or at least dislike her for underestimating the harsh reality of living on the mountain. But she was so determined to honor Trudie with this project that he found himself carried along by her enthusiasm. Still, he was worried about her preparedness. Before he could walk away, he needed to know that she’d be fine out here all by herself.
In the meantime, he tried his best to ignore the attraction pulsing between them. She’d made it very clear that the last thing she wanted was a man. He wouldn’t be chopping her firewood, he wouldn’t be digging her garden and he wouldn’t be warming her bed. But maybe there was one thing he could do for her.
He picked up the sandwich that Lucy had made for him and took a bite. The rustic bread was freshly baked and she’d slathered homemade hummus on it, flavored with garlic and roasted red peppers. “This is delicious,” he said.
“Thanks.” She pulled her knees up beneath her chin. “I put a lot of time and effort into my menu. If I think a lot about food, I can contain my cravings.”
“And what do you crave?” he asked. “Besides a caramel latte? And chocolate?”
“Potato chips. Ice cream. Pizza. I dream about pizza.”
“Well, you’re about an eight-hour hike from a really great pizza parlor. Maybe you could get them to deliver,” he teased.
“I expected to miss food. And all my electronics. Television and movies. But what I really miss is people. It’s so quiet here at night it almost makes my ears hurt. I don’t know what I’d do without Riley.” She drew a deep breath. “And fruit. I miss fresh fruit.”
“There will be places you can get that around here later this summer,” he said. “About a mile in that direction are two apple trees that were planted near the foundation of an old cabin. And over there, along that ridge, are blackberry bushes, but watch out for bears because they like them as much as humans do. There are also wild plum and boysenberry trees nearby. Trudie used to make the best jam.”
He wanted to show her, to tell her everything that he knew to help her survive and make her stay more bearable. But he remembered her very strict set of rules. “I’d draw you a map, but you’d probably rip it up and throw it in the fire.”
She nodded, then pushed to her feet. “Is there anything else I can get you?”
He wanted to ask if she’d let him run his fingers through her hair, or smooth his hand over her cheek. He wanted to stare into her eyes and memorize the color so he might recall it later. Most of all, he wanted to kiss her and see if the attraction he felt was mutual or just some silly fantasy that he was experiencing on his own.
“Get me your rifle,” he said. “And bring a box of ammunition.”
“What are you going to shoot?” she said, glancing around. “Is there a bear?”
“No. We’re just going to have a little target practice,” he said. “Humor me. I want to be sure you could shoot a bear if you had to.”
Lucy grudgingly produced the rifle. She was clearly not happy with him for forcing the issue but she was smart enough to realize that a little extra instruction with the rifle could save her life if she did encounter a bear or some other wild animal.
Over the next half hour, they set up targets in the meadow, nailing flattened tin cans to the trunks of aspen trees.
“I am curious about that pile of logs over there,” Eli said, nodding to the west of the cabin. “I notice you’ve been stripping them. They’ll burn fine with the bark.”
“Those aren’t for the fire. I’m building a cabin.”
Eli chuckled. “No, really.”
“Really,” she said. “Your grandmother built this cabin all on her own. I want to do the same.”
“Yes, she built it. Over the course of two or three summers. With the help of friends and two horses.”
“I don’t have any horses,” she said. “And I don’t have friends. But that doesn’t mean I’m not going to try.”
Eli tacked a tin can to the tree trunk, shaking his head. “Do you have any idea what you’re doing out here? You seem to have some kind of delusion—or maybe it’s a fantasy—of what wilderness life is like.” He continued on to the next tree.
“I have your grandmother’s books,” she said, hurrying after him. “And I’ve done my homework. I know it’s difficult, but that only makes me more determined to do it.”
“To what end? Trudie already proved that it was possible. Why do you need to build a cabin all over again? Is it meant to make you famous?” He held out his hand and she gave him another tin can. “How the hell did you get these logs here?”
“I dragged them,” she said.
He stared at her in disbelief.
“I have to find just the right circumference and length. I was going to make a fourteen-by-fourteen cabin like your grandmother, but those logs are too heavy. So I’ve reduced it to ten-by-ten and I’m using six-inch diameter logs.” She held up her hand. “I know. It’ll take more logs, but I’m going to do it. And for your information, it has nothing to do with being famous. I’m doing this for myself.”
Eli couldn’t help but admire her tenacity. The process she described was brutal and backbreaking. He grabbed her hands and turned them over, only to see the shadows