by Sarah Morgan
“I meant we were lucky to see the lion. They generally try to avoid humans.”
“I wonder why this one decided to make an exception?”
“You’re a lone hiker, which makes you more interesting. He was probably fascinated by the difficulties you were having walking through the snow.”
“You mean he was waiting for me to fall down so that he could eat me?”
“I doubt he would have eaten you.” He let go of her but only to zip her jacket up to the neck. “Keep this closed. It’s no wonder you’re shivering. What are you doing all the way out here?”
“Taking a walk.”
“This isn’t a marked trail. You were lost.”
“Not exactly lost. More freely walking wherever the impulse took me.”
“The impulse took you into the path of a mountain lion. And if you’d carried on walking to the left you would have fallen off the mountain. It’s steep, and the trail ends at a big drop-off.”
“Good to know.” She licked her lips. “Should we get away from here, in case that lion has friends? And shouldn’t he be hibernating or something?”
“Mountain lions don’t hibernate, but it’s rare to see one in the middle of the day. They tend to be more active at dusk and dawn. The heavy snowfall we’ve had the last couple of weeks has probably driven him down from the mountains. Or maybe he followed his prey, a deer or an elk, and then came across you.”
“Great.” Katie shivered. She’d been prey before, and it wasn’t an experience she was in a hurry to repeat.
“They’re not usually interested in humans. It’s food they’re after, but it’s good to be alert. You didn’t answer my question. What were you doing all the way out here?”
She hadn’t even realized she’d come this far. She’d been so upset she’d walked without thinking. “I needed time to myself. I didn’t realize it was dangerous.”
“There’s other things more dangerous than that mountain lion.” He shifted his backpack. “You could find yourself up to your neck in snow, or you could slip on the ice and bang your head. Take someone with you when you hike. And if you meet a mountain lion, make yourself look large. Look it in the eye so that it knows you’re not afraid.”
“I wasn’t afraid. What makes you think I was afraid?” She saw a gleam in his eyes.
“Great. In that case I’ll say goodbye.” He turned and started to walk up the path away from her and she stared after him in disbelief.
Was he really going to leave her here? No, he was trying to annoy her. Making a point. Any moment now he’d turn round and walk back to her.
But he didn’t. He kept walking, his long powerful legs making it look easy.
“Jordan!” She wasn’t proud that her voice shook.
He turned. “What?”
It almost choked her to say it. “Don’t leave me.”
There was a pause and then he strode back toward her at a considerably slower pace than he’d walked away. “Let’s be clear about this so there’s no mistake. You’re asking for my help?”
She gritted her teeth. “Yes, I’m asking for your help.”
“You’re admitting that you’re lost and that you can’t do this by yourself?”
The man was maddening. “Yes, I’m admitting that.”
“Wow.” He folded his arms. “I bet this is a first for you.”
There was humor in his voice and normally she would have made a smart retort, but she didn’t have one available. She felt lost and sad and totally unlike herself. She didn’t want to go back to Snowfall Lodge, but she couldn’t keep wandering in the forest. “Point me in the right direction and I’ll walk home by myself.”
“What if you meet another mountain lion?”
“I’ll handle it.”
He reached out and gently removed her sunglasses. “You’ve been crying.”
“I have not. The cold makes my eyes water.”
All traces of humor vanished. He slipped her glasses into his pocket, pulled off his glove and stroked her cheek with his fingers. “You’d rather die than show vulnerability, so it must be something bad. Did something happen? What’s wrong?” He studied her face and then glanced back down the trail. “What are you doing all the way out here?”
“I told you. I was walking.”
“Because you’re upset. You wanted to get away, and you didn’t even care where you were walking.”
It started to snow again, huge fat flakes that settled on her hood and her jacket.
The world obviously hated her.
He frowned. “Did you know a storm was forecast?”
“I wasn’t thinking about the weather. The sky was clear when I left.”
“It’s not clear now. It’s snowing and it’s going to get heavier. We should move.” Instead of walking back down the path he continued upward.
“This isn’t the way to Snowfall Lodge.”
“We’re not going back to Snowfall Lodge.”
“Where are we going?” She stumbled in the deep snow and he paused and held out his hand.
“My home is closer.”
She hesitated and then took his hand. It was that or face plant in the deep snow. “You live here? On the trail? There are houses here?”
“Not houses, no. My cabin is a ten-minute walk from here. We can shelter and wait for the storm to clear.”
His cabin.
She stopped walking.
She was in the middle of nowhere, with a man she didn’t really know. Was this a wise move? Events of the last two months had made her jumpy. Once, she’d moved through life with confidence, but she no longer trusted her judgment. The doubts snaked in from nowhere, making her second-guess every decision. Was this safe? Was she making a mistake? Was she going to look back on this moment and feel like kicking herself for doing something stupid?
She breathed deeply. Sometimes life required you to make a choice between two less than perfect options. A storm was coming in, so trying to find her way back on her own wasn’t going to end well. This man knew where they were, and he knew how to find shelter. And he wasn’t a stranger. She knew him. He and Dan had been friends forever.
He waited, surprisingly patient. “You’re anxious, but you don’t need to be.”
This was embarrassing. “You think I’m stupid.”
“I don’t think that.”
Still, she felt compelled to explain. “I don’t always—” She brushed snow away from her face. “I made a bad judgment a little while ago, and it didn’t turn out well.”
“And now you don’t trust yourself because you’re worried you’ll misjudge a situation.” He let go of her hand and pulled the hood of her jacket farther over her head to keep out the cold and the snow. “This isn’t one of those situations, Katie. Everything is going to turn out fine. Providing we move now, before we both get frostbite.”
She’d expected sarcasm, or one of their usual barbed exchanges. She hadn’t expected gentleness. He had kind eyes. Why hadn’t she seen that before?
“Let’s go.” This time she took his hand, and she held tightly as the snow deepened and the trail narrowed. The trees were barely visible and the world became nothing but swirling snow. The visibility was reducing by the minute and she shivered, partly from the icy wind, and partly at the thought of what might have happened to her if she hadn’t met him on the trail. She would have been caught in this alone and unprotected.
She was grateful for his strong grip and solid presence, but she didn’t understand how he could know where he was. The world was a blur. “Are we lost?”
“No. Be careful here—” He held a branch back for her and she stumbled past, conscious of the weight of snow pressing down on the branches above her.
“It’s like Narnia.” She glanced at him. “From The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe.”
The co
rners of his mouth flickered. “Just because I live in the mountains doesn’t mean I didn’t get an education.”
“I didn’t mean to sound rude. Not everyone reads the same thing, that’s all.”
“Careful. That sounded almost like an apology.”
“It was an apology.” She trudged next to him, the deep snow tugging at her boots. Walking was exhausting work, even with snowshoes, and she was relieved when he paused at the edge of the trail and she saw the flicker of lights through the trees.
“We’re here.” The snow smothered all sound, but the lights kept flickering through the trees and then suddenly the forest opened up and she saw the cabin.
“Oh—” She stopped and stared through the swirl of snowflakes.
“What? It’s not fancy like Snowfall Lodge, but it’s home.” He gave her hand a tug and they walked the last few steps to the cabin.
“It’s incredible. Like something out of a fairy tale.”
He pushed open the door. “Those are the stories where someone always dies, right? You think there’s an evil witch inside who is going to feed you cookies?”
“I hope so. Right now I would wrestle a witch for a cookie.” She was surprised by the warmth of his smile. It was impossible not to smile back. She followed him inside, grateful to be out of the snow. “Isn’t it lonely living all the way out here in the middle of nowhere?”
“I happen to think this place is somewhere, not nowhere. And I’m happy in my own company.” He reached out and helped her unzip her coat. “You’re shivering. Sit by the fire and I’ll make a hot drink.”
She slid off her boots, rubbed her hands with her arms and stepped through an arch into the living area of the cabin. She fell in love instantly. With the thick, soft rug that covered the wooden floor. With the crowded bookshelves that lined three of the walls. A pair of antique skis hung on the wall above the stone fireplace. The place wasn’t carefully put together; it was lived in. The books were thumbed, the skis scratched and well used.
“They were my great-grandfather’s.” Jordan glanced at her as he walked through to the small kitchen. “He’d laugh if he could see what we use now. Your clothes are wet. Do you want to take a shower and change?”
Into what?
“I’m fine, but thanks.” She didn’t plan on staying long.
“Are you hungry?”
She’d taken pastries to her parents, intending to eat breakfast with them and it had never happened. “Yes, but I feel guilty suddenly landing on you like this.”
“A day ago you would have taken delight in inconveniencing me, so I’m declaring myself officially worried. I’m going to change, then make us something to eat.”
He left the room and was back a moment later holding a towel. “Here—at least dry your hair.”
She took the towel with a nod of thanks and watched as he left the room. Being with him made her a little uncomfortable. If she hadn’t been in a slightly weakened state she might have been more sparky.
She heard the sound of a door opening and closing, and then the sound of the shower running. She tried not to think about how good it would feel to be standing under a jet of hot water.
Absently drying the ends of her hair, she sat down on the sofa.
When he came back into the room he was carrying a tray loaded with food. His hair curled damply over the neck of his thick, cable-knit sweater. “Help yourself.”
“Thanks.” She tried not to notice the way his jeans fit snugly around his thighs. Her trousers clung, too, but because they were damp and uncomfortable. But what was the point of taking them off when she’d have to put them back on to walk back to the lodge? And then there was the fact that she didn’t want to run around his cabin in her underwear.
He put the tray down and took the towel from her. “Sure you don’t want a hot shower?”
“I’m fine, thanks. This looks delicious.”
There was a fresh loaf and a slab of creamy butter. Plump tomatoes, mountain ham and chunks of cheese.
Trying to ignore her damp clothes, she picked up a plate. “The bread looks delicious. Did you go to the store this morning?”
“I baked it myself.” He smiled at her surprised look. “What? You think all I’m good for is rescuing women from ice and snow?”
“I didn’t need rescuing.”
“That’s more like it. I was missing the argumentative side of your nature.” He cut a couple of thick slices of bread, speared one and put it on her plate.
She knew she was being ungracious. Her shoulders sagged. “You’re right. I needed help. And I’m grateful. Thank you. Not only for the food, but for rescuing me.”
He piled ham and cheese on her plate. “Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?”
She buttered the bread, took a bite and moaned with pleasure. “This is good. I haven’t had freshly baked bread since the last time I was home, which is months.” She helped herself to cheese, caught his eye and put the plate down. She wasn’t being fair, was she? “I suppose I do owe you an explanation.”
He stretched out his legs. “On second thought, it can wait. Eat. Stop worrying for five minutes.”
That was easier said than done, but she ate hungrily, knowing she was going to need fuel for the trek back to Snowfall Lodge. “What time does it get dark?”
“In a couple of hours.”
She glanced at her watch and realized five hours had passed since she’d left her parents’ cabin. “I had no idea it was so late.” She scrambled to her feet. “I have to get going.”
Jordan sliced off another chunk of cheese and added it to his plate. “Where exactly are you planning on going?”
“Back to Snowfall Lodge. Where else? My family will be wondering where I am. My parents, particularly my mother, will be worried.” And for once she was the cause. She, who tried hard never to worry her parents, had stormed out of their tree house without even allowing them to explain. She’d told no one where she was going because she hadn’t known where she was going.
What were they thinking right now? Maybe they’d already called search and rescue.
“They won’t be worried. They know you’re with me.”
“How could they possibly know that?”
He cut more bread. “I texted Dan earlier, when I saw you on the trail. More cheese?”
“No, thanks. You texted him?” She frowned. “I couldn’t get a signal.”
“It comes and goes. You can relax. No one will be worrying.”
“I’d still like to talk to them myself.” What exactly had she said to her parents? The whole conversation was a blur. Had she hurt her mother? That was the last thing she wanted, but she’d been so shocked. “Can I use your phone?”
“There’s no signal in the cabin. You have to walk up the trail a little way, and you can’t do that in this weather. Settle down, Katie. We’re going to be here awhile, so you might as well calm down.”
“You do know that telling someone to ‘calm down’ is a sure way of making them super stressed and mad, don’t you?”
“Yes.” He spread butter on the bread. “I like you better when you’re mad. All this amenable vulnerability is starting to rattle me.”
She had no idea what to say to that. “I have to get back. Even if my parents aren’t worried, I still need to talk to my sister. And I need to do it urgently. There are reasons.”
“Are those reasons connected with why you were wandering aimlessly through the forest when I found you?”
She moved closer to the fire. “I found out this morning that my parents are getting a divorce.”
If he felt any surprise, it didn’t show. “And that was a shock?”
“Yes! You’ve seen the way they are together. They act like teenagers. We all thought they were on a second honeymoon.” She saw a faint change in his expression. “You didn’t think that?�
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He cut another slice of cheese. “I thought they looked like a couple who were trying too hard. Putting on a public display.”
She stared at him and then sat back down again. “Damn, you’re right. Why didn’t I see that?” She put her face in her hands and then let them drop. “Once again I completely misjudged a situation.”
“Once again?”
“Never mind.” She bit her lip and stared into the fire. “They were trying too hard, you’re right. It was so unlike them.” The fact that she hadn’t asked more questions bothered her. She was trained to be observant, and yet she hadn’t noticed. “I’m so mad with them. And sad. And—” She glanced at him. “Sorry. You don’t need to hear this.”
“Talk, Katie.” He pushed his plate away. “It sounds as if you need to.”
Would talking even help? She wasn’t sure. All she knew was that she felt thoroughly miserable. “I can’t believe they didn’t tell us. And it’s a mess. It changes everything. The reason I was lost in the forest was because I overheard them talking and was upset. I went there for breakfast because I wanted to check on my mother, and that’s when I heard them discussing their divorce. I walked out. Which probably wasn’t my most adult moment, but I wasn’t thinking clearly.”
“You didn’t turn to your sister?”
“I needed time to process the information, and decide how best I could support her.”
“What about someone supporting you? Do you ever lean on anyone?”
She frowned. “No. I don’t need to.”
He watched her for a moment. “So you walked, without really knowing where you were going.”
“I was on the main trail, but I was trying to avoid people and took one of the smaller paths. Before I knew it, I was lost. And met a mountain lion—” She curled her legs under her, trying not to think about how badly her walk of distress could have ended. “You probably think I’m unbelievably stupid and irresponsible.”
“I think you were upset. Finding out that your parents are breaking up is always a shock.”
“It’s not as if I’m a toddler or a teenager. It shouldn’t matter.”
“They’re still your parents. It’s natural to feel upset. I did when my parents divorced, which made no sense given the way they were together.”