She gasped when he suddenly swung her off her chilled feet and into his arms. She clutched frantically at his shoulders when he began to move. “What are you—put me down!”
“I will. Soon as we get those feet covered,” he assured her. “We don’t want you getting a chill.”
It amazed her how easily he carried her, even as heavy as she was at the moment. He was definitely stronger than he looked.
And he certainly had a tendency to just take over without consulting her first, she added to herself with a frown. If he thought she was the docile, meekly cooperative type just because she must have looked like a wet stray kitten earlier, then he had a lot to learn about her!
He deposited her into the same chair she’d sat in earlier, the one closest to the fire. And then he knelt in front of her and matter-of-factly stuffed her feet into the thick white sweat socks.
“Mr. Stone,” Jenny began, trying to reclaim some dignity despite the circumstances. “I appreciate your help, but—”
“Adam.” He corrected her as he stood and tucked the blanket carefully around her bare legs. “Are you warm enough now? I have a couple of pairs of sweatpants with drawstring waists that should fit you.”
“I’m fine now, though I may take you up on the sweatpants later,” she said. “What I wanted to say was—”
He shook his dark head and flashed her an absent smile. “No, don’t bother to thank me. It isn’t necessary. Are you hungry? I can heat a can of soup.”
She was hungry, as a matter of fact. The thought of warm soup was enticing enough to almost distract her from what she’d intended to say. And then she remembered. “Yes, that sounds wonderful. But—”
He raised one finger. “Hold that thought. I’ll put the soup on. I’m getting kind of hungry myself.”
She sighed when he disappeared into what she assumed was the kitchen. The man was harder to talk to than a hyperactive puppy—not that there was anything at all puppyish about his lean face and brusque manner.
She glanced at her watch, surprised to find that it was almost midnight. She’d slept longer than she’d thought. Obviously she was here to stay for the night. She couldn’t even begin to imagine what she’d do in the morning. Something told her that Adam Stone would have plenty of suggestions to offer, she thought with a grimace. He seemed to be the type who would.
It was only a few minutes later that Adam came back into the firelit room, carefully balancing a tray that held two steaming mugs and a tube of saltines. “I thought it would be easier for you to drink the soup out of a mug than to try to balance a bowl in your lap,” he explained, setting the tray on the coffee table in front of the low couch opposite her chair.
“What lap?” Jenny muttered wryly.
He chuckled. “I hope you like canned chicken noodle soup,” he said, handing her a mug and a spoon.
“Sounds good,” she replied, trying to remember her last meal. She’d skipped lunch, so she hadn’t eaten in fifteen hours. No wonder she was so hungry! She usually tried to take better care of herself.
The soup tasted as good as it had sounded. She sighed in pleasure and downed it as quickly as she could without burning her mouth. Adam ate almost as greedily, making her wonder if he’d missed his dinner because of her. He really was being nice to her—a veritable Good Samaritan. She was grateful, though she was beginning to chafe against his rather autocratic manner.
She suspected he was a man who was accustomed to barking orders and having them followed, which led her to wonder who, exactly, he was and what he did when he wasn’t playing the hermit of the lake. A drill sergeant, perhaps?
It was quiet in the cabin, except for the steady pop-sizzle of the firewood and the muted sounds of the winter storm that still continued outside, though it seemed to have abated some while she’d slept. There was a strangely intimate feel to dining by firelight with this man, even if they were virtual strangers. She wasn’t usually so comfortable with people she didn’t know.
“Do you live here full-time?” she asked just to make conversation.
He confirmed her suspicion when he shook his head. “No, I live in Little Rock. I’m just renting this place for a couple of weeks. Taking a vacation, of sorts,” he added. “It seemed like a good place to get away from the world and recharge my mental batteries.”
“I’m sorry I disturbed your solitude.”
He shrugged. “I’m just glad you saw my lights when you wrecked your car. I’d hate to think of you being out in that cold and ice.”
She shivered at the thought. “Me, too,” she confessed.
He set his empty mug on the coffee table. Jenny placed hers on the end table beside her chair. She sensed before he spoke that he was finally getting around to the questions she knew must be plaguing him.
“What was the name of the hotel you were looking for?” he asked.
She made a face at the silly name when she replied. “The Bide-a-Bye. I was told that it was clean and comfortable and inexpensive, which met all my requirements for tonight. But I think I turned left when I should have turned right somewhere—or vice versa.”
“Obviously. There’s no place like that around here, that I know of. In fact, I haven’t seen anyone since I arrived three days ago.”
Not a reassuring comment. “I guess I’ll have to call someone to tow my car,” she said, thinking regretfully of the expense. “I don’t think I’ll be driving it away from the tree I wrapped it around.”
“I’ll look at it as soon as the weather permits,” he said. “You weren’t too badly shaken by the collision, I hope. You didn’t hit the steering wheel or anything, did you?”
“No. I was wearing my seat belt.”
He nodded, then frowned again. “Did the seat belt tighten across your stomach? Was there much force?”
“I was wearing it beneath my stomach,” she explained. “I’m a bit sore where the shoulder strap tightened across my chest, but I’m sure the baby’s fine, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“Yeah,” he admitted. “Since there’s little chance of driving out of here for a good twenty-four hours, it’s reassuring to know that you aren’t in need of immediate medical attention.”
“Twenty-four hours?” Jenny repeated in dismay.
“At the least,” he repeated. “You haven’t looked out lately. It’s ugly out there. Two inches of ice with a good three inches of snow on top of that. And since snowplows aren’t exactly common equipment in these parts—and particularly on rural roads that are rarely traveled, anyway—we won’t be going anywhere until the temperature rises enough for a thaw.”
The last she’d heard, the high tomorrow was expected to be only in the low twenties. “It isn’t going to thaw tomorrow, is it?” she asked in a low voice.
“Doubtful,” he said. “If we’re lucky, it’ll start melting the day after. It’s hard to predict. This is hardly average weather for central Arkansas. Though I remember six or seven years ago, when we got twelve and a half inches of snow in Little Rock,” he added conversationally. “The city was basically shut down for days, particularly in the outlying areas.”
“They aren’t predicting that much snow this time, are they?” Jenny asked apprehensively.
He shook his head. “It’s already starting to taper off. The problem, of course, is the ice. I can drive on snow. Ice is an entirely different matter.”
“Don’t I know it,” Jenny muttered, remembering the helpless feeling of being out of control of her sliding car. “I don’t suppose you have a four-wheel-drive vehicle equipped with chains?”
“Jaguar,” he replied, oddly cheerful about it. “Great car, but useless in this weather.”
“Wonderful,” she said with a sigh.
“We’ll be okay. There’s plenty of food for several days, and enough firewood to burn for weeks. Don’t worry about it.”
“I have to admit that I really feel funny about staying here,” she said candidly. “After all, I don’t even know you. Maybe it would
be better if we tried to call for help. Maybe we could get a tow truck out in the morning, and I could ride to the closest town with the driver.”
Adam shook his head. “I’m sure the tow trucks are doing all they can to keep up with the calls they must be getting from stranded motorists. And I really doubt that anyone’s going to agree to come all the way out here until these roads clear some. It’s just too risky. Besides,” he added, not without sympathy, “the phone’s dead. I tested it just before you woke up. The phone lines must be down, too.”
She couldn’t hide her dismay. “But—”
“Jenny,” Adam cut in gently. “Face it. You’re stuck here for a day or two. I’m sorry, I wish I could take you wherever you want to go. But we’d be foolishly risking both our lives—all three of our lives,” he added with a glance at her stomach. “I’m not exactly known for being a gracious host, but I’ll try to be on my company behavior while you’re here, okay? I swear to you that you have nothing to fear from me.”
She bit her lip and eyed his face, finding it difficult to give her trust so easily.
He smiled. It didn’t make his hard, dark face look any less intimidating, she decided, but he was obviously trying to put her at ease.
“If the phones were working, we’d call my grandmother,” he said. “Granny Fran would assure you that I’m really a decent guy, even though she’s convinced that I’m a bit too big for my britches, as she words it.”
“Granny Fran?” Jenny repeated, tempted to smile. It was difficult to be wary of someone who talked so easily about his “Granny.”
He nodded. “Five feet two inches of pure dynamite. You’d like her, I’m sure. Everyone does.”
“Does she live close to here?”
“About a half hour away. She’s the only one who has the number where I can be reached—not that it would do her any good with the lines down.”
“You must have a high pressure job, to need to get away all by yourself like this,” Jenny ventured.
He nodded. “Yeah. You could say that.”
“You—um—aren’t married?”
“No. Never have been.”
“Neither have I.” She wondered how he’d react to that, given her condition. Before he should feel compelled to say anything, she heard herself adding hastily, “I came close, a few months ago—” eight, to be exact “—but it didn’t work out,” she added, looking down at her hands.
“He didn’t want the baby?” Adam asked gently.
Her mouth twisted. “He didn’t want me,” she corrected him. “The baby was just something else he didn’t want.”
Adam studied her face for a moment. “Do you mind if I say that the guy must have been a damn fool?” he asked finally.
She smiled. “No, I don’t mind that at all. In fact, I appreciate it. Thanks.”
“You’re welcome. When’s the baby due?”
“Almost another month yet. I plan to be in east Tennessee by then.”
“Is that where your family lives?”
“No.” She didn’t want to talk about her family. “That’s where a friend from high school lives. She owns a temporary agency—you know, one of those places people call when they need clerical workers for a limited time?”
He nodded.
“Anyway, she said if I ever wanted a job to look her up. After the baby’s born, I plan to find a good day-care center and get back to work as soon as I can.”
“Temporary work doesn’t pay very well,” Adam cautioned. “No benefits, no retirement.”
He wasn’t telling her anything she didn’t know all too well. “I know. But it’s a place to start,” she said. “I don’t have any references to secure a permanent position easily.”
Adam was still looking at her, and his gaze was so perceptive that she was tempted to squirm in the chair. “You’ve had a difficult time, haven’t you?” he asked.
She didn’t like having him look at her like a charity case. She shrugged. “Not nearly as rough as some people have it. I’ve always managed to land on my feet in the past.”
“You’re not one of those stubbornly independent types, are you?” Adam asked suspiciously.
She laughed. “As a matter of fact, I am.”
He sighed gustily. “Everyone needs a helping hand at times, Jenny. Keep that in mind, okay?”
She eyed him skeptically. “I bet you’ve never asked for help in your whole life,” she accused him.
He started to speak, then stopped and cleared his throat. “We weren’t talking about me,” he reminded her.
Which only confirmed her accusation. Adam Stone was the self-sufficient type if she’d ever met one. A kindred spirit, actually, though they probably had little else in common. She just wanted to make it quite clear to him that she was quite capable of taking care of herself—once the roads thawed, of course.
Something told her she had to put her foot down quickly with this man, before he swept her off her feet again.
Chapter Three
Still tired from her ordeal, Jenny soon began to nod in her chair. Adam insisted on helping her move to the couch, where he tucked her in with a pillow and several thick blankets. She murmured a protest at being treated like a sleepy child, but her eyes closed almost before she finished the complaint. She was asleep within minutes.
Adam stood beside her for a long moment, watching her, judging for himself that she was sleeping comfortably, apparently suffering no ill effects from the car accident or the exposure to the cold and damp. Though he was trying to study her with clinical detachment, he couldn’t help noticing how beautiful she looked in the glow of the firelight.
Annoyed with himself, he turned away and began to arrange his heavy sleeping bag on the floor in front of the fire. He was still consumed with questions about his uninvited houseguest. He was fully aware that most of them were questions he had no right to ask—but probably would, anyway.
He couldn’t see himself just turning this hapless young woman loose to go off on her own with no job, apparently no family to turn to in her time of need. It wasn’t in his nature to turn his back on someone in need of his guidance. Whether she realized it or not.
Adding another log to the fire, he slipped out of his shoes and crawled fully clothed into the sleeping bag. He was glad now that he’d impulsively brought it along with him, though he’d had no idea he’d be utilizing it quite like this.
* * *
Adam woke several times during the next few hours, each time rising to add a log to the fire and check on his houseguest. Jenny slept soundly, hardly stirring on the narrow, probably uncomfortable couch. She must have been exhausted, he thought in sympathy.
The snow had stopped by Friday morning, but there was still a thick layer of heavy gray clouds that darkened the day and threatened more precipitation. Studying those clouds in concern, Adam tuned in the battery-operated radio he kept in the kitchen and listened as the weatherman predicted more ice and snow by evening.
State police were asking all nonemergency vehicles to stay off the roads, and many roads were closed entirely until crews could clear them. This was the worst winter storm to hit this area in the past decade, the announcer said gravely.
Adam shook his head ruefully. Trust him to pick a time like this for his first vacation in ages. It should have been no surprise to him that he had ended up taking care of someone else on this vacation.
Just for the hell of it, he lifted the telephone receiver to his ear. Still no dial tone. He thought of the cellular phone in his car, but decided there was really no need to try it at the moment. At least it was available in case of an emergency.
He turned on the gas stove and set coffee on to perk. And then he wondered if Jenny liked oatmeal. She would need a good, hearty breakfast when she awoke.
The warmth of the stove felt good in the chilly kitchen. The wooden floor was cool even through his thick cotton socks. He was grateful for the huge stack of firewood behind the cabin, and for the natural-gas stove. They needed a
ll the breaks they could get right now.
A sound from the doorway made him look around. “Good morning,” he said, finding his houseguest watching him from across the room. “How are you feeling?”
Still wearing her red sweater and his black sweatpants and white sweat socks, Jenny looked sleepy and tousled, but amazingly attractive, considering the circumstances. She ran a hand through her tumbled dark curls, her expression a bit shy. “Good morning. I’m fine,” she assured him.
“Hungry?”
“Starving,” she admitted with a slight smile.
“Do you like oatmeal?”
“Actually I do. Is that what you’re having?”
“Yeah. Why don’t you go on back into the living room where it’s warm, and I’ll serve breakfast in there when it’s ready.”
Jenny frowned. “I don’t expect you to wait on me, Adam. I’ll help you make breakfast.”
He shook his head and spoke reasonably. “As small as this kitchen is, we’d only get in each other’s way. I can have breakfast ready in just a few minutes.”
“But I—”
Sensing that her stubborn independence was forcing her to protest, Adam broke in. “I think the coffee’s ready. Why don’t you pour us both a cup and carry them into the living room?”
She gave him a narrow look but seemed somewhat appeased at having something to do. She filled two large mugs with the strong, fragrant brew, added creamer to her own, then carried both carefully into the other room while Adam prepared the oatmeal.
* * *
They ate in front of the fire, stocking feet curled beneath them, steaming cups of coffee sitting in front of them. The casual atmosphere helped Jenny relax. Adam seemed completely comfortable in her presence, which helped her adjust to the awkward circumstance of breakfasting alone with a stranger.
She watched him circumspectly as they ate. Who, exactly, was this man? From the impressions she’d gathered thus far, she would guess he was a bit of a loner, something she might have suspected even if she hadn’t known he’d been vacationing alone in this isolated spot in the dead of winter.
A Home for Adam Page 3