He smiled again, working hard to hold back a laugh. “If it makes you feel better, I was a medic in the army. I’ve seen my fair share of bodies.”
She had a new appreciation for her extra hours in the gym. “I’m grateful for your help. I know I was in bad shape.” Her voice sounded more confident than she felt. Between the thoughts of his hands on her body and the lack of food in her system, she swayed on her feet and stepped closer to the wall for support.
He crossed the room and was beside her in a few long strides. “Here, you need to sit.”
“I’ve been down for an entire day. You’d think I’d had enough rest.”
“You also haven’t eaten.” He wrapped an arm around her waist and guided her back to the couch. “I’ll make you some soup, maybe tomato and a grilled cheese?”
Her mouth watered. “That sounds amazing.”
He laughed again, the rich deep sound filling the room. “I don’t know if it qualifies as amazing, but I’ll do my best.”
She sat down and turned slightly to watch him walk back to the kitchen. His build was impressive from the back as well. “Hey, Jonas? Could you tell me where the bathroom is?”
He leaned out from the kitchen and pointed to the hallway off the main room. “Second door on the left. Let me know if you need a hand.”
Her cheeks flamed. Not a chance in hell. There were some things she would handle on her own, even if she was moving a little slow. She started to tell him as much, but he had already disappeared back into the kitchen.
Closing the door behind her, she walked over to the mirror and groaned. Her curls were wild on one side and flat on the other. Her skin was pale, and the one patch on her face where the airbag hit her was red and agitated. She gave up on splashing a little water over her face and decided she needed a complete overhaul. She smiled when she saw the travel sized shampoos and soaps in a little basket beside the sink. A definite woman’s touch.
A knock sounded on the door a few minutes later. “You’re food’s ready, and I put some clothes out here beside the door.”
“Thanks,” she called over the shower.
Turning the water off, she stepped out and grabbed a towel. A flannel shirt and sweats waited for her as promised. She couldn’t stand the idea of putting her dirty undergarments back on, so she didn’t. He didn’t have to know she was opting for the commando approach. The sleeves of the shirt hung past her hands by several inches, so she rolled them and pulled the drawstring on the pants tight. Hair wrapped in a towel, she stepped out of the steamy bathroom and retraced her steps to find Jonas waiting for her on the couch with a tray of food. She felt more like a guest at a hotel than a stranger in a strange place.
“Better?” He rested the tray across her lap. His close proximity brought with it his scent of pine and musk.
Butterflies stirred in her stomach. “Much. Thanks for these.” She ran her hand over her body in a sweeping motion.
“You’re welcome. Sorry they’re big. They’re mine.”
“I thought they might be your wife’s.” She sipped warm soup and took a bite of the delicious gooey sandwich.
He leaned forward and set the mug he was holding on the table. “I’m not married.” He moved to the floor in front of her and knelt down.
Lizbeth stopped with the spoon halfway to her mouth. “Oh, I just assumed.”
“That’s my brother and his family in the pictures. This is our family cabin.” He gently raised her pant leg, and his fingers brushed her skin around her sore ankle. Heat surged through her at his touch. “It looks better, but you still need to take it easy.”
“Whatever you say, doctor.” Alone in a cabin with a handsome, unmarried man. She didn’t know if this was some sort of Christmas present in disguise or a test of her self-control. She’d be the first to admit she wasn’t as strong as she should be when it came to men like Jonas.
“This is really good.” She pointed to her almost empty bowl to lighten the moment.
He lowered her pants leg and sat back on the couch beside her. “I think you were just really hungry.”
She laughed. “That might be part of it.” She set her spoon down, and Jonas reached over to remove her tray, an angry red scar catching her eye. It was at least three inches long across his forearm.
Without a word, he put the tray on the floor and jerked his sleeve down. Her eyes flicked to his, and she saw pain there before he turned toward the fire. Guilt tugged at her. Here she was imagining him touching her, and he was in pain. Whatever was bothering him could be the reason he was in the cabin alone in the first place, and now she was intruding. She wanted to ask about it. To know what could make him so sad and to try to help if she could, the way he was helping her, but it was none of her business. She was a stranger. As the silence stretched between them, he continued to focus on the fire, an unreadable expression on his face. He seemed to be somewhere else, lost in his own thoughts.
“Well, I guess I need to figure out how I’m going to get out of your hair. My car’s in bad shape.”
He returned his attention to her. “We can call a tow truck in a few days.”
“A few days?” Her muscles tensed as his words sank in. Now wasn’t a good time for a vacation. “I can’t stay up here that long. It’s almost Christmas, and I have a deadline.” She shook her head in disbelief as if she could will the situation to change. “I can’t lose this job. I’ve been working on it for a month.”
“Look, the tow trucks can’t get up here right now.” His voice softened at her look of distress. “The roads are icy, and there’s more bad weather on the way.”
She sighed and leaned her head back against the cushions.
“Is there someone you need to call? Someone who’s expecting you?” He raised an eyebrow in question.
“My mom will be at some point. I’m supposed to let her know when I’m on the way. You know, for Christmas.”
“She’s probably worried.”
“She won’t be trying to reach me because she knows I’m on assignment. I’m impossible to find when I’m working.”
“What do you do?”
“I’m a freelance photographer.”
“Is that what you were doing up here?” He gestured toward the windows behind him and the mountains in the background. “Taking pictures?” His eyes darkened.
She couldn’t understand where his sudden anger came from. “Hey, try not to make it sound so unimportant. It’s my life.”
“You almost lost your life. A picture doesn’t exactly seem like something worth dying over.”
“At least I’d die doing something I love,” she countered, her temper ignited with passion for her career. Chest rising and falling, she paused to try to rein it in. There was no reason his opinion should matter so much. He didn’t mean anything to her. He was a stranger. Except this wasn’t the first time she’d had to defend her choice of profession to a man. And Jonas didn’t even know her. He didn’t get to decide what was important or not. She’d been down that road before, and had no intention of going down it again.
Chapter Three
He stood and crossed to the fireplace, gripping the mantel in both hands. She was ridiculous. Beautiful, but ridiculous. A piece of paper...that’s what she was talking about. She could’ve died outside in the elements and for what? Duty...to save the life of a fellow soldier...those reasons he understood, but a damn picture? He took a deep breath and exhaled his temper in a rush before turning back to face her.
She was watching him, her own temper still snapping beneath the surface. The additional color in her cheeks made him sure about one thing though, she was beautiful.
“Okay.” He held up two hands in surrender. “We’re going to be spending a lot of time together in the next few days. Let’s take a step back.”
“I’m sorry. You’re right. You saved my life, and I’m yelling at you.”
“I shouldn’t have judged you. I’m sure you take wonderful pictures.”
“Well, that’
s true.” She grinned, signaling all was forgiven. “But if you really want to call a truce, I think you’re going to have to woo me with another grilled cheese.”
He returned her smile, his blue eyes crinkling at the corners. “I think that can be arranged.”
He returned a few minutes later and heard Lizbeth’s stomach growl at the promise of more food. She was making up for lost calories, it seemed.
“So tell me, Jonas. What’re you doing up here all by yourself at the holidays? Shouldn’t you be with the ones you love or something? Hanging with your brother and the kids?”
“I probably should.” The sadness from earlier returned and threatened to shatter his good mood.
“But instead, you’re here alone? I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m glad you were here. I’d hate to think what would’ve happened had you not been, but that still begs the question, why?”
He thought about avoiding her question or lying, but when he saw her peering at him, more caring than prying, he decided he didn’t want to lie to her. He sighed and sank into the couch. An array of emotions tugged at him. “This Christmas was supposed to be a celebration. I just finished my final tour.”
“That’s great,” she said around a mouthful of food.
“Yeah, for me it is, but my buddy John didn’t make it back. I brought him home to his family and went to the funeral, and then I left. I’m not ready to go home and be heralded a hero and celebrate the holidays like everything is back to normal. Not when one of my best friends is dead.”
Abandoning her sandwich, she pushed the plate aside and reached across the couch to rest a hand on his arm. Her pale hand was a sharp contrast to his sun exposed skin. He looked down where her hand rested and then up at her face.
“I’m sorry. I’ve seen firsthand what can happen to soldiers who fight for their country during another one of my assignments. I can’t imagine losing someone I cared about in a strange country and then facing his family.” She squeezed his arm, and her warmth flowed to him.
“It’s part of the job. We all know it can happen.”
“That doesn’t make it easier.”
“No, it doesn’t.” Jonas covered her hand with one of his own. “That’s why I was up here. I needed some time to decompress. To accept that John wouldn’t be there anymore.” He swallowed and closed his eyes. “I couldn’t save him. After all my training and experience, I still couldn’t save him.”
“I don’t know what happened, but I know you tried. It wasn’t your fault.”
“No, it wasn’t, but it doesn’t feel that way, especially when his parents and sisters are looking at me. Every time I see them, the hole in my chest threatens to tear open again.” He moved his hand away from hers and ran his hands through his hair. He didn’t know what had possessed him to say so much to a stranger. “I’m sorry to burden you with my demons.”
“I asked, and it’s no burden. I’m sorry I interrupted your time in your fortress of solitude up here.”
“A woman who makes Superman references...I may be in love.” He smiled, and some of his sadness slipped away. She smiled too, revealing a dimple in one of her cheeks. Abruptly, he stood, before the urge to touch her became too great to ignore. “Okay, well, I better get moving if I’m going to be back by dark.”
“What?” Her smile faltered, and her eyes grew wide. “Where are you going?”
“To your car. You need your phone.”
“Oh. Well, thanks. Could you grab my computer and camera while you’re there?” She smiled sheepishly. “If it isn’t too much trouble.”
“It’s no trouble.” Jonas glanced at the clock on one of the shelves. “Are you okay here by yourself?”
“I live alone. I think I’ll be okay.”
He didn’t doubt her ability to take care of herself, but he couldn’t help the protective impulse gripping him. He wasn’t sure if it was the memory of her unconscious body draped in his arms or the way her hand looked so fragile as it rested on his arm. Whatever it was, he couldn’t shake it. “There’s a gun on the mantel if you need it. I won’t be gone too long.” He crossed to the front door and then turned back. “Wait...do you know how to shoot a gun?”
“I can hold my own.”
“Somehow, I thought that might be the case.” He smiled at her as he slid back into his hiking gear and slung his rifle over his shoulder.
“What’s the gun for? The bears are hibernating. Right?”
“Bears, yes. Mountain lions and wolves not so much.”
She paled a little. “Be careful.”
“Always.” He nodded and closed the door.
* * * *
A cold burst of air blew through the cabin and sent the flames dancing. Lizbeth shivered and picked at the seam of the familiar green blanket. Her eyes wandered to the clock and then toward the windows. According to the hands on the clock, five minutes passed before she dropped the blanket’s edge and sighed. She needed to move. It wasn’t in her nature to lie around.
She stood and took it upon herself to take a tour. There were three bedrooms: two small rooms, one of which had twin beds and a master. The master was huge; half the size of the den by her estimate, and it too had a fireplace and large windows. Jonas’s things were neat, and the bed was made. Habits instilled in him by the military, she guessed. She didn’t know many other men who kept their things tidy when they were alone.
She approached the windows and looked out, curious as to what she might see from the high vantage point. As she assumed, the cabin was secluded. Trees surrounded the house, and in the distance, all she could see were mountains upon mountains. The snow-covered branches were still, and below the window, she could make out two lines of footprints. One led to a small shack, and the other vanished beneath the trees.
Turning away from the windows, she crossed the room and stroked her fingers over the soft down comforter covering the bed. Earth tones with small touches of forest green were used to decorate the space, and the plush carpet gave the room a warm feel. She imagined it made for quite the romantic interlude with the fire lit and the picturesque view of the mountains for a backdrop. She could imagine lying in Jonas’s arms on cool sheets with heat from a fire licking their exposed skin. She took a step backward and shook her head. What was wrong with her?
As fast as she could manage, she moved back to the den. The sun was beginning to set, the orange hues mixing with the ones from the fire and creating abstract patterns across the rug, but there was still no sign of Jonas. Nervous energy, brought on by her overactive imagination and too much time on her hands, radiated from her body. She crossed her arms over her chest as she stood at the large windows to keep from picking at the bottom of his flannel shirt. The view made her more agitated instead of less. The photographer inside her itched to capture the view of the mountains.
Exhaling a puff of air and sending a loose curl spiraling out of control, Lizbeth wandered to the kitchen and to her delight, found an Mp3 player attached to a speaker. She felt a little strange scrolling through what she assumed were Jonas’s playlists, but she needed something to take her mind off him. Toward the bottom, she found the perfect option. “Silver Bells” played in the background while she rooted around in the refrigerator for something to eat. The least she could do to repay him was fix dinner.
Half an hour later, she stood singing along with Bing Crosby and sautéing chicken in a skillet. Water boiled in the pot beside her as she whisked the sun-dried tomato sauce in a pan. The house was filled with the smells of cooking.
“A fan of the classics, are you?”
She squealed, jumped and dropped the whisk at his words.
He raised his arms in front of him. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
She waited for her heart to return to normal, but seeing him standing by the kitchen doorway smiling, cheeks rosy from the cold and smelling of the outdoors, her heart didn’t slow down. It turned over in her chest. “I- I’ve always liked the classics better than the remakes,” she
managed after a moment.
“Me, too.” Jonas stepped forward and paused beside her and the stove to inhale appreciatively. “This looks a little more involved than the grilled cheese.”
She half turned her face toward him and bumped his shoulder with her own. “It’s still the best grilled cheese I’ve ever had.”
He laughed and excused himself, returning a moment later with a bottle of wine. “Will this work with dinner?”
“Where did you get that?”
“You just have to know where to look.” He winked at her and set the bottle on the table. “By the way, I found all of your things. You’re phone’s dead, but that’s not a surprise. I plugged it in, in the guest room for you.”
“Thank you for going out to get it.”
“It was no problem.”
A few minutes later, they sat at the table together, eating and laughing. If she had to be stranded in a cabin with a man, Jonas wasn’t a bad way to go.
“So you’re telling me you’ve filled two passports in the past year?” He picked up the bottle of wine and refilled each of their glasses.
“Yep. Work’s been good this year. And you have to keep in mind that to get into Africa you have to have a full page for them to stamp.”
“Oh, well in that case, it isn’t so impressive.” He smirked and took a sip of his wine while watching her over the top of his glass.
“What about you? What’re you going to do now that you’ve completed your tour?”
“I’m going to join the family business.”
“Which is?”
“Building log cabins,” he said and gestured around the room.
“You’re kidding. You built this place?”
“Well, not just me. My dad and brother helped a little.”
She stared around the room with a new appreciation. “That’s incredible. When I was walking around earlier, I was thinking how impressive this house is. The master bedroom is perfect.”
“You were in my room?” He smiled and raised his eyebrows.
Blood rushed to her face as he burst out laughing. “I um, well, yeah. Sorry. I wasn’t trying to be nosy.”
Frozen: A Winter Romance Anthology Page 19