"I've been waiting all month to meet you," Sarah Knight said, grabbing Anna's hand and shaking it. "I was surprised to learn there's a woman working here as foreman. Or should I say forewoman?"
Anna Segee smiled and politely returned the handshake. "Foreman's fine. You're in the majority, Mrs. Knight," she returned. "But Tom's an open-minded businessman."
"You can drive all this machinery?" Sarah asked, her voice excited and her look expectant.
"Yes. I grew up driving large equipment."
Alex grabbed his wife and hugged her to him. "No, Sarah, she hasn't got time to teach you," he said with a laugh. He looked at Anna. "How about a tour of the mill?" Alex turned and motioned to his kids. "But first, you should meet the rest of the family. This is Delaney, and this is Tucker."
"I'm seven," Tucker told her. "You fired Uncle Ethan."
Anna Segee didn't miss a beat. She smiled at the young man and said, "Yes, I did, because your uncle did a very foolish thing. I hope you're smarter than he is. As we tour the mill, you'll need to keep on your toes. There's lots of dangerous equipment here, and I wouldn't want you to get hurt."
She followed her little lecture with a pat on Tucker's head, and Ethan addressed his nephew. "That's right, Tuck. Behave yourself or she's liable to make you wait in the truck."
Sarah took hold of Tucker's hand. "Don't worry. They know the dangers of a working yard," she assured Anna.
"Even if my son doesn't," Grady said, turning a frown on Ethan. He looked at their new foreman. "And if he didn't properly thank you for saving his life, I certainly will. Thank you, Miss Segee."
"You're welcome," she whispered, her face coloring again.
"I'm Paul," Paul said, stepping past Alex to take her hand. "Are you free for dinner tonight?"
Anna Segee's face turned even redder. She quickly pulled her hand away and stuffed it in her pocket. "You'll probably want to get settled at Fox Run tonight, Mr. Knight," she told him. "And I never mix business with pleasure."
"Oh, Paul won't be running Loon Cove," Grady said, his face wrinkled into a grin. "Ethan will. And thanks for renting us one of your cabins. That will save him from having to drive clear around the lake each night."
Anna looked like she'd just swallowed a pine-cone, though Ethan would bet it was more likely curses she was choking on.
She finally looked at him, forcing another smile. "I hope you don't mind roughing it. I haven't been able to get water running to the cabin yet."
And she wasn't going to put herself out getting it there now, he guessed. The smile he gave her was wholly sincere. "I'm sure I'll manage just fine."
"Yes. Well." She turned to Grady. "What would you like to see first?"
"The saws," Grady said. "And I'd like to meet the crew."
Anna spun on her heels and started walking toward the office. "I'll get you some hard hats," she called over her shoulder as she disappeared into the building.
"She's a tad disconcerted," Tom said. He looked at Ethan. "She didn't know you were going to be her tenant when I talked her into renting one of her cabins."
"And why is that?" Ethan asked.
Tom Bishop's face wrinkled in a frown. "Because I don't want her living alone out there, and I knew she would have refused if she had known who her tenant would be."
That was an understatement. Ethan would bet the lady was racking her brain right now, trying to figure out how to get out of the lease. But he had signed a six-month lease this morning, along with the purchase papers. Anna was stuck with him.
"What's wrong with her living alone?" Sarah asked. "She seems capable of taking care of herself."
"Oh, she is," Tom quickly agreed. "It's just that Anna's been having some trouble lately, and I'll sleep better knowing there's a man around."
"What kind of trouble?" Ethan asked, wondering if his role as tenant had just become that of babysitter. "Has she got an old boyfriend bothering her?"
Tom shook his head. "It's nothing that simple." He glanced at the office before looking back at Ethan. "Some developers are trying to get her to sell Fox Run to them. And there's a group of historians after her to sell it to them for a museum."
"And she doesn't want to?" Sarah asked.
"No. She's told them that several times, but neither group is willing to accept it. And then there's her ghost."
"Ghost?" Paul repeated.
Tom nodded. "Someone's been visiting Fox Run at night. So far they've just been going through the old buildings, but I'm worried. I don't know if it's the developers, the historians, or someone else."
Ethan snorted. "She just has to show them her tire iron."
Both Tom and Grady glared at him. Ethan spun around and headed for the saw shed, leaving his family behind. He did, however, look both ways before crossing the yard.
* * *
During the ride home that evening it was snowing hard enough to make driving seem like a carnival ride, with four inches of snow on the main road and at least seven inches covering the mile-long lane leading down into Fox Run. And if that wasn't bad enough, Anna had the headlights of another pickup behind her, constantly reminding her that she was being followed home by a man who made her stomach do flip-flops.
Her insides had been in a state of chaos all day. She'd tried to blame it on the fact she was escorting her new bosses around the mill, as well as on not getting enough sleep lately because she'd been trying to get water running to the cabin for her tenant. She'd even blamed her bout of nerves on the arriving storm.
But she knew better. She'd greedily signed the lease agreement before a name had been put on the contract, and now she would not only have to deal with Ethan Knight all day at work, he'd be following her home and sleeping just several hundred feet away every damn night for the next six months.
Which meant it wouldn't be ghosts keeping her awake anymore.
Damn, he'd grown into a ruggedly handsome man.
And he still hadn't recognized her. On the one hand it was a relief, but on the other it hurt like the devil. How could he not remember her? He'd been beaten black and blue protecting her eighteen years ago, and had spent the whole summer with his arm in a cast— though she hadn't been able to console him because she'd been whisked away to Canada right after the "incident."
Her firing Ethan a month ago had been Anna's first contact with her childhood hero in eighteen years.
He'd hugged his family good-bye at Loon Cove, then bowed like the knight he was, waving Anna toward her truck to lead the way home. And he'd grinned the whole time, like the proverbial cat who was about to discover where the canary lived.
Anna rounded a steep curve and automatically sent up a prayer to Gramps as she approached the spot where he'd gone off the road four months ago. Suddenly her truck lost traction and started to fish-tail, and Anna quickly cut the wheel and let her foot off the gas, trying to keep from skidding off the road. The front right tire slid off the lane, the momentum pulling her toward the ravine. She quickly straightened the wheel and pushed the gas to the floor, maneuvering out of danger.
A sudden cloud of blinding snow cut her visibility and Anna felt the truck's front tire slip again, this time past the point of no return. Tiny trees snapped, her truck scraped against rocks and stumps, and the steering wheel jerked out of her hands as the pickup suddenly rolled, slamming her against the door and then into the ceiling as it slid on its roof down the steep bank with a deafening roar.
Hanging from her seat belt, Anna covered her face with her arms as branches smashed through the windshield and side window, battering her body. Snow poured into the cab, covering her head and shoulders and sliding under her jacket like icy needles.
The churning suddenly stopped with a violent thud of finality, knocking the breath out of her. The truck shuddered and then died, silence engulfing her in a cocoon of twisted metal and snow laced with bark and branches, the smell of pine filling the air as she hung upside down from her seat belt.
Anna opened her eyes to an eerie wh
ite darkness. The stillness was suffocating; the faint smell of gasoline made her heart pound at the thought of it spilling onto the hot engine. She twisted, rocking back and forth, trying to open a cavity around her. Her arms worked, she could wiggle her toes, and nothing seemed to be broken, but she was definitely trapped.
She squirmed to reach the buckle on her seat belt and more snow fell up the back of her jacket, sending a shiver along Anna's spine that chilled her to her soul. Oh God. Had Gramps gone through this? Had he lived several hours, trapped like she was?
Something banged into the side of her truck with a muted thud, followed by a very welcome curse.
"Anna!" came Ethan's muffled voice through the whiteness surrounding her. The truck rocked, jostling her against her belt. "Anna!"
She punched at the snow in the direction of the door. "I'm stuck," she shouted back. "I can't release my seat belt."
"I can't get the door open," he told her. "I'm going around to the other side. Hang tight."
She snorted. She was hanging. And the snow that had gone up her coat was beginning to melt and run up her back in an icy rivulet. Silence descended again, but for an occasional curse from the man outside. Anna continued to squirm, widening her cocoon enough to allow her to claw the snow toward the passenger's side. The truck shuddered again and began slipping farther down the ravine.
"Dammit! Quit moving!" Ethan shouted.
"Get me out of here!" she shouted back. "I smell gasoline!"
"I've got to brace the truck first," he said, his voice fading away.
Carefully, in small increments, Anna dug at the snow to make a tunnel. She needed air. She knew she wasn't in danger of suffocating, but it damn well felt as if she were. Her rescuer was suddenly beside the driver's door again.
"Anna, can you hear me?"
"Yes."
"I've braced it, but I don't know how long it will hold. I can't get either door open. I don't dare pull you out the windshield because you'll get caught on the steering wheel, but your side window is blown out. I'm going to dig toward you and then pull you out this way."
"I can't get my seat belt off. I can't reach the release."
"I've got a knife."
His hand suddenly appeared through the snow beside her, and Anna grabbed it.
"Hey, easy now," he said, his voice closer. He pulled his hand away. "Let me get rid of this snow."
The truck shifted again, settling against whatever he'd used to brace it.
"Hurry up!" she cried.
She thought she heard a chuckle come through the tunnel he'd dug. The packed snow slowly disappeared around her until Anna saw Ethan, though he was upside down.
He smiled at her through the tunnel he'd made. "You and my sister-in-law have a thing for accidents, it seems," he said, brushing the snow from her face and hair. "Are your legs stuck, or any bones broken that you can feel? Because I'm going to cut the belt and pull you out all in one motion."
"My legs are free, and nothing's broken."
He straightened and removed a knife from a sheath on his belt, squinting against the swirling snow as he looked toward the back of the truck. "When I cut the belt, you'll drop like a stone, and that just might send this baby to the bottom." He looked back at her. "Hold on to me as tightly as you can when I pull you out."
Or go down with her, she realized as she nodded agreement. Anna suddenly felt eleven again as she remembered the determined look in his twelve-year-old eyes that long-ago summer.
He stepped closer and held out his hand. "Grab my arm and be ready to scramble."
She grabbed him with shaking hands and felt his muscles bunch beneath her grip.
"Easy," he soothed her. "I won't let you go down with the truck."
"I know."
He grinned. "Do you, now? Then why are you shaking like a pine in a gale?"
"I'm cold," she snapped. "Half the snow on this hill is up my jacket. Do it, Knight. Cut the belt."
He turned serious. "Are you sure nothing's broken? Your neck and back feel okay?"
"I'm fine, if I can just get out of this damn truck!"
"Okay. Hang on tight," he said, reaching in and grabbing the front of her jacket in his fist.
Anna dug her fingers into his sleeve and closed her eyes. The belt holding her suddenly let go and she fell to the ceiling, The truck shuddered with the impact, and began sliding down the ravine. Her scream was lost in the shriek of metal scraping against rock as Ethan pulled her out. She banged her head on the door, her hip smashed into the outside mirror, which caught her jacket pocket… and Anna felt herself going down with the truck.
Ethan's grip never wavered. He held on to the front of her jacket and used his knife to slash at her pocket. She was the prize of a deadly tug of war that lasted mere seconds, then she was free and the bed of the truck went rushing past her in a blur of black twisted metal.
As Anna frantically scrambled up Ethan's body, he wrapped both arms firmly around her and hugged her to him. Trees below them snapped as her pickup gained momentum, rolling over and over until it landed in the bottom of the ravine and burst into flames. A plume of fire exploded toward them, and Ethan rolled them over, pinning her deep in the snow as branches and debris rained down.
The man weighed a ton. She couldn't breathe, but she didn't care. He'd saved her life. The deadly rain of fiery missiles eventually stopped, and Ethan slowly lifted his head and looked down at her. Smiling again.
"You seem to have a thing for ditches, Segee."
"Bite me," she said through gritted teeth, squirming to get free.
He didn't give an inch, but grabbed her hand pushing against his chest. "Are you shaking from the cold, or do I make you nervous?"
"I'm going to throw up."
That worked. He rolled away and sat up, pulling her with him, then grabbed her by the neck and shoved her head down between her knees. "Deep breaths," he said as he peeled off her coat.
She grabbed for her jacket. "I'm freezing to death!"
"You're soaked, and you've got a snowdrift up your back," he said, running his hand under her sweater.
His fingers burned like glowing embers, and a shudder racked Anna's body. Oh God. She was going to throw up. She scrambled to her feet and promptly fell flat on her face.
"Easy there," Ethan said, standing and wrapping his arm around her waist to hold her steady. "Your head's still spinning. You can't jump to your feet like that."
He started climbing the hill, not once loosening his hold on her, and Anna was grateful for his help. Her knees were knocking with the realization that she'd nearly been killed.
"Unless it's my charm that's making you light-headed," he said just as he lifted her onto a boulder halfway up the slope.
She blinked at him. His face was shadowed, wreathed in a halo of flames from her still-burning truck. "Charm?"
He cocked his head. "Yeah. I got the charm in my family."
She snorted and moved out of the way when he jumped onto the boulder and sat down beside her. Personally, she thought he'd gotten the looks in his family, not that she ever intended to say so. "What you've got is more muscle than brain," she said.
He sat beside her, and the snowstorm continued around them, the wind plastering the large wet flakes to her hair and face.
"That muscle just saved your life."
"And my brain saved yours last month."
A grin slashed his face. "We're even, then. Take off your sweater." He slipped out of his jacket. "It'll take us ten minutes to climb up to my truck. You'll freeze to death before that."
She hesitated, but knew he was right. "Turn around."
He laughed, but turned. Anna pulled her sweatshirt off over her head, but when she got her face free, she saw that he'd turned back to her. And he was no longer laughing.
She shoved him with all her might, sending him off the rock, swiping his jacket out of his hands as he fell. "You no good dirty jackass!" she said to his shocked face.
"Hey, I was checking for inju
ries."
"Yeah, right."
She slipped into his coat and buttoned it up to her chin, engulfing herself in heavenly warmth. "To hell with my tire iron, I'm buying a gun. One that holds nine bullets and has laser sights."
He held out both hands to her. "You planning on hatching that rock, or do you want to get home before morning?"
She looked down the ravine. "I totaled my truck," she said, more to herself than to him. "Now what am I going to do?"
The Stranger in Her Bed Page 5