Wilde Thing

by Jannine Gallant

  He let out a resigned sigh. “That high, huh?”

  She nodded. “I’m afraid so.”

  “In that case, I’ll have to keep working on you since one thing’s for certain.”

  Her breath caught in her throat, and her heart beat a little faster when he laid a hand over hers. “What’s that?”

  “I’m definitely not cut out to be a monk.”

  Chapter 7

  Tripp tromped through the deep snow, breaking trail on the way back to Hannah’s cabin. Behind him, she huffed a little but gamely kept pace as the shadows lengthened. When a squirrel crossed in front of them, Winnie took off in pursuit, only to return disappointed while her tormenter chattered from high in a sugar pine.

  “Our hike turned into quite an expedition.” He glanced over his shoulder. “Are you tired? Want to take a break?”

  “I’m fine. You’re putting in all the hard work. We could have returned on the trail we packed going out and made this a whole lot easier.”

  “Where’s the fun in that? Anyway, I needed a good workout.”

  “We’re getting one.” Her voice was breathless. “It’ll be nearly dark by the time we reach my cabin. We’re running way late for your therapy session.”

  “Does it matter? You can come back to my house and put me through the wringer. After I recover, I’ll cook you dinner.”

  “Really? Again with the dinner invite?”

  He glanced over his shoulder and raised a brow. “What? You made me lunch. Seems only fair.”

  She rolled her eyes then huffed out a breath. “Move it, Winnie. I don’t want to step on you.”

  “She looks tired. Her ears are dragging in the snow.”

  “Maybe she shouldn’t have chased so many squirrels.”

  “She’s a dog. Chasing wildlife is part of her job description.” He stopped and turned. “I can carry her.”

  “She’ll be fine. It’s not that much farther. Anyway, I don’t want you to strain your shoulder.”

  “Carrying a fifteen-pound dog isn’t going to strain anything.” He glanced around at the towering trees as they descended a steep slope. One giant cedar straight ahead had a two-pronged top that reminded him of a pitchfork. “Are you sure we’re almost back? This area doesn’t look familiar.”

  “That’s because we’re coming in from the west, and we headed out in a more northerly direction then made a loop. Don’t worry about getting lost. I know these woods as well as I do my backyard since this basically is my backyard. We’re headed in the right direction.”

  “I’ll take your word for it.”

  They walked in silence for several minutes as darkness encroached. With nothing but soft snow and an occasional downed limb or pinecone between him and his ultimate destination, he wasn’t too concerned about falling on his face in the fading light.

  “My cabin is the blurred shape beneath those trees at the bottom of the slope.” She paused. “Huh, that’s odd.”

  He stopped and waited while she stepped up beside him. “What’s wrong?”

  “I know I left a light on, just in case we got back late, but it’s completely dark down there.”

  “Maybe the bulb burned out.”

  “I guess so.” Hannah moved ahead of him as they covered the last few yards. She stomped through a deep drift and rounded the side of the house then removed her snowshoes by the front steps. After opening the door, she reached inside to flip the light switch. “Nothing. Damn it. The power’s out.”

  Tripp headed down the path to the driveway and dropped his snowshoes in the back of the truck. “I have a flashlight…” After opening the door, he stuck his hand under the seat and pulled out a heavy plastic light then switched it on. He caught Hannah with her hands fisted on her hips in the glare.

  “I wonder why we lost power when it wasn’t even windy. Weird.”

  Tripp pointed. “There’s a light down the block. Your neighbor must have power.” He flashed the beam at the electric pole near the street. “Maybe the breaker blew. Looks like the line to your cabin comes in from there.”

  Hannah let out a long sigh. “I guess I’d better call the power company.” She turned in a circle, peering into the darkness. “Where did Winnie go?”

  He walked back toward the house and flashed the light around the yard until the beam crossed an upended, furry butt, tail waving. “There she is, digging in the snow near that tree. What’s that on the ground next to her, a stick or a snake? It looks black.”

  “Oh, God. Winnie! Get over here right now!” Hannah’s voice rose as she ran toward the dog.

  Winnie quit digging and turned.

  “Come here, girl. Want a treat?”

  The dog bounded through the snow to Hannah, who scooped her into her arms.

  Tripp held the light steady. “Shit, that’s no snake.” He stopped a couple of yards short of the spot where the dog had been digging. “It’s a downed power line. What the hell?”

  Hannah’s grip on Winnie tightened. “The end disappears under the trampled snow over there. The wires are sticking up a little.”

  He frowned. “Isn’t that the path we made heading into the woods?”

  She nodded. “Man, it’s a good thing we didn’t come back the same way, or we would have stepped right on the line.”

  Tripp trudged through the snow to the corner of the cabin and pointed the light beam up toward the roof. “Your power line snapped beneath the eaves and must have whipped backward. I can only assume the current is still live. Damn, if Winnie had touched that bare wire, she would have fried.”

  Hannah stepped up beside him. When the dog let out a yelp, she loosened the fingers clenched in her fur. “We could have been electrocuted if we hadn’t made that loop to come in behind the cabin.”

  “First an avalanche then a downed power line. I seem to be cheating death on a regular basis.” A chill shivered through him. “Temps are dropping. Let’s go call the electric company. You and Winnie can stay with me until they fix your line if they can’t get to it tonight.”

  “When they realize the problem is a safety issue, I’m sure they’ll send someone out here pronto. As it is, I’m surprised we don’t have a couple of sizzled squirrels lying in the yard.”

  Tilting his head back, he peered up at the wire hanging from beneath the eve. “I wonder how that thing snapped. It looks almost like someone cut it.”

  “Why would anyone do that?” Still holding Winnie, she turned away then stopped. “Are you coming? I need the flashlight to look up the power company’s number and find my stash of candles. No reason to hang out in the dark while we wait.”

  “Sure. We should probably build a fire, too. You don’t want your pipes to freeze if they don’t get out here in the next few hours.”

  “Good idea. Do you mind grabbing an armful of logs off the woodpile? I’m afraid to put Winnie down until we get inside where she’ll be safe.”

  He nodded. “I’m on it. We’ll have the cabin toasty in no time.”

  Fifteen minutes later, they’d reported the outage, built a fire in the wood stove and lit a dozen candles. Dancing shadows reflected off the walls as Tripp added another chunk of wood to the stove then rose to wipe his hands down his ski pants.

  Hannah glanced at her watch. “The repairmen are supposed to be here in under an hour, so I need to stick around. We can have your therapy session here, if you don’t mind. That thermal shirt you’re wearing should be comfortable enough for strengthening reps.”

  “Sure. If I get hot, I can always take it off.” Unzipping his waterproof pants, he stripped down to long underwear. “Let’s get busy.”

  She turned slowly away, the glow from the fire giving her cheeks a rosy tint, and headed toward the bedroom. “Let me change first. I’ll be right back.”

  When Winnie walked over to her empty food bowl at the end of the bar counter and stared pointedly at the dish, he followed. “Can I feed your dog?” He raised his voice. �
�She looks hungry.”

  “Give her a level scoop. The cup’s in the food bag in the pantry. Thanks.”

  Hannah’s voice sounded muffled, as if she’d just pulled her shirt off over her head. Imagining her full breasts cupped in nothing but a lacy bra heated him far more than the fire had. He glanced down at the clinging long johns. Shit. Mind out of the gutter, idiot. Crossing to the front door, he opened it for a blast of chilly air. That did the trick.

  A sharp bark redirected his attention. After locating the bag of kibble and feeding Winnie, he filled a glass with water and drank it down. By the time Hannah exited the bedroom wearing workout pants and a T-shirt, he had his libido under control. Thirty minutes into the rehab session, he was picturing her in a whole new light—with little red horns and a trident—as he struggled and cursed while trying to complete the new series of exercises.

  “Come on, Tripp, three more reps. You can do this.”

  He gritted his teeth, wondering if the upward tilt of her lips meant she was enjoying his misery. When she stepped behind him and gripped his arm to adjust his position, leaning into him to get the proper angle, the vision morphed into one of Hannah wrapped around him…minus the baggy T-shirt.

  A couple of hard knocks shattered the image. He let out a long breath as she released him to go answer. Racing ahead of her, Winnie burst into a chorus of barks loud enough to discourage all but the most determined visitors. Holding the dog back with her foot, she opened the door.

  “You called about a downed power line?” A dark-haired man wearing a fluorescent orange vest with the power company logo raised his voice to be heard.

  “I’ll show him where it is.” Tripp grabbed his jacket off the rack by the door and pushed his feet into boots then sidestepped around Winnie. “Be right back.”

  When he shut the door behind him, the barking was blessedly muffled.

  “I bet your girlfriend doesn’t have bear problems.” The repairman switched on his flashlight.

  “She’s not…never mind. Yeah, Winnie would scare away a werewolf with all that noise.” Tripp rounded the woodpile and pointed. “The line comes in over here and snapped under the eve.”

  “I’ll get a ladder from the truck.”

  “Be careful of the live wire. It’s on the ground to your right.” He waved a hand. “I can show you where it’s half buried in the snow if you shine the light in that direction.”

  “No worries. My partner is at the pole turning off the power to the house. I’ll check in with you once we’ve assessed the problem.”

  “Thanks.” Tripp shoved his hands in his coat pockets and shivered as he hurried up the steps. When he opened the door, Winnie gave a token bark before trotting over to his side.

  In the kitchen, Hannah pulled a covered container out of the refrigerator then shut the door with her hip. “Well?”

  “They’ll give us an update once they know what’s going on.” He eyed the dish she set on the counter. “What’s that?”

  “Dinner if you want leftover chicken casserole. I can toss together a salad to go with it.”

  “Sounds good. You’re going to feed me after you finish the torture session?”

  She smiled. “Don’t be a baby. That torture is strengthening your shoulder. Since your primary goal is to get back on the mountain…”

  “I’ll quit whining and take it like a man.”

  She struck a match on the box beside the stove then bent to light the pilot in the oven. “Good thing the appliances are gas.” She slid the casserole onto the rack and shut the door. “Let’s go finish up. I can’t believe you went outside in your underwear. Weren’t you freezing?”

  “I was a little chilly. The temps have definitely dropped.” He moved into the living room. “I’ll put another log on the fire.”

  “Thanks.”

  Fifteen minutes later, Hannah took a step back while he breathed hard and wiped his sweating forehead on his sleeve. “Are we finished?”

  She nodded. “Let’s call it a night. You can ice your shoulder while I make that salad. I wonder what they’re doing outside. Having power again would be nice.”

  “I don’t know. Eating by candlelight is romantic.” He grinned. “Maybe it’ll put you in the mood to—”

  “Don’t you ever give up?” She crossed her arms over her chest. “Good God, Tripp. I’m beginning to think if I look up persistent in the dictionary, I’ll find your picture.”

  He shot her a smile. “No, I’m nearly certain they put my photo under irresistible.”

  Hannah rolled her eyes. “How about egomaniac? I—”

  A sharp rap interrupted her and set Winnie off in another barking fit.

  Without asking, Tripp scooped up the dog and stuck her in the bedroom then closed the door. “That might not shut her up, but at least we’ll be able to hear what the guy has to say.”

  “Good idea.” Hannah opened the door and gestured the repairman inside. “Come in so we don’t let the heat out.”

  “Thanks.” He wiped his boots on the mat then stepped through the doorway. “My partner is stringing a new wire now. Your power should be back on in another half hour or so.” He glanced from Hannah to Tripp and back. “Did you piss someone off, an old boyfriend maybe?”

  She frowned. “What’re you talking about? Of course not.”

  “Well, somebody must have been pretty angry to cut your power line.”

  Tripp fisted his hands on his hips. “Seriously? The wire didn’t snap? Maybe a tree branch fell on it or something. I didn’t notice one, but it could have landed on the woodpile.”

  “It looked like a clean slice to me.” The repairman frowned. “It would take someone knowledgeable to pull that prank without electrocuting himself.” He shrugged. “Anyway, that’s what I’m putting in my report.” He held out a clipboard. “I’ll need you to sign this work order.”

  Hannah scribbled a signature. “Thanks for coming out so quickly. I appreciate it.”

  “No problem. We’ll have the line fixed ASAP.” With a nod, he pulled the door shut behind him.

  After freeing a still barking Winnie from the bedroom, Hannah pulled icepacks from the freezer and handed them to Tripp. “Go take care of your shoulder while I finish up dinner.”

  “Okay.” He walked into the living room and sat down on the couch. When Winnie jumped up next to him with a thump, he scratched her behind the ears. “Hannah?”

  She glanced at him across the bar counter. “Yes?”

  “Did you piss someone off? Possibly a dissatisfied client? What about the doc? He was wearing a tight-lipped, disapproving expression in the office today. I’m pretty sure he believes I’m more than just your patient. Maybe he was jealous.”

  “First of all, my clients don’t walk away dissatisfied. Secondly, you think Lewis—who lives a half-hour away in Truckee—drove clear over here just to make me spend an evening in the dark because he got the impression we were dating?” She snorted. “Not likely.”

  “If the wire was cut—”

  “The repairman must be mistaken. I bet that cable hasn’t been replaced in God knows how long. Like you mentioned earlier, a branch probably fell, hit the line and snapped it at a worn spot.”

  “That scenario does make a lot more sense.” He pressed the icepack to his shoulder and leaned back against the cushions. “Thanks for making dinner, especially since I offered first.”

  “I’m not exactly going all out here. It’s getting late, and we both have to eat.” She narrowed her eyes on him and waved the knife she was holding. “This isn’t a date.”

  “Right.” He grinned. “Not even close.” He shut his eyes and relaxed without feeling the need to carry on a conversation. Hannah had a restful quality about her that was a far cry from the usual women he dated. No high-maintenance expectations. No drama. If she’d cave in and sleep with him, she’d be damn near perfect.

  When her cell phone rang, he jumped, startled out of near s
lumber.

  “Hello.” Her voice cooled. “Oh, hi, Mom. What do you need?”

  Tripp’s brows shot up. Does Vivian only call when she wants something?

  Hannah was quiet while long seconds ticked by. “What do you mean she disappeared? No, I didn’t hear anything about it, but then I don’t travel in the same circles as Monica.” More silence was followed by a sigh. “Does she still drink? Maybe she’s holed up somewhere on a bender.”

  After glancing at his watch, Tripp took the icepack off his shoulder and carried it into the kitchen. Hannah stood next to the counter, head hanging as she rubbed the back of her neck. He squeezed her shoulder as he passed.

  “Look, Mom, I don’t know what you want me to do about it. I only saw her for a couple of minutes, and that was a few weeks ago. I have to go. Dinner’s ready.”

  After returning the icepack to the freezer, he grabbed a couple of potholders off the counter and pulled the casserole dish out of the oven. Cheese bubbled as a savory aroma filled the room.

  “Yum.”

  Hannah scowled. “No, I’m not gaining back the weight I lost. I can’t completely stop eating. Yes, I’ll call if I hear anything. Bye, Mom.” She clicked the disconnect button and set the cell on the counter then flipped it the bird.

  Tripp gave her a broad smile. “Way to go, Hannah. You tell her.”

  “One of these days, I just might.” She frowned. “That whole conversation was too weird for words. But then, I don’t know why I’d expect my mother to call just to see how I am. That’s not the way she rolls.”

  “Her loss. Where should I put this?”

  “On the hot pad there next to the plates. We’re ready to eat.”

  A lamp in the living room flared to life just as the refrigerator kicked on with a hum.

  “Power’s back on.” Tripp set down the dish then reached over to turn on the kitchen lights. “Nice to be able to see again.”

  Hannah bent to blow out the candles lined up on the counter. “At least something’s going right. About damn time.”

  He sat on one bar stool and waited for her to join him. “Dare I ask what that cryptic phone conversation was about?”