Cabin Fever

by Karen Rose Smith

  As Brad drove deeper and higher into the mountains, snow fell lightly most of the time. Now and then it became heavier and Brad could feel Emily’s tension. That was an odd thing. He didn’t consider himself particularly intuitive when it came to women because he didn’t usually plug in that well.

  By the time they reached the last turnoff on the directions, Brad felt relieved. “We’re almost there.”

  Emily muttered, “Thank goodness,” and he smiled. They’d laugh about this when they got back to Chicago.

  In the next few moments, the smile slipped from Brad’s lips. As he spotted the creek he’d have to cross before they drove the last half mile or so to the cabin, he realized the situation they’d be in if he did. In May, runoff from the mountains could cause flooding. As the road curved onto the bridge, he could see sloshing water had reached its snow-covered surface. The problem was, he couldn’t turn back. With the snow accumulating steadily every mile they’d traveled, the car would never manage a trip back to Thunder Canyon tonight. At least in the cabin they’d be warm and dry. They’d brought enough food to last them a week.

  Brad thought about the cell phone clipped to his belt. What were the chances he could still get a signal out here?

  The car’s tires swished through the slushy snow and water on the bridge.

  As Brad covered the half mile, then veered off the road to take the lane to the cabin, he could tell that here the two or three inches of new powder that had fallen tonight covered patches of old snow that still hadn’t melted.

  The sedan’s tires churned beneath them, and he couldn’t make any more headway up the incline. “This is it. Why don’t you stay in the car while I get the supplies unloaded. You’ll be warm and—”

  “I’m coming with you.”

  “Emily…”

  “I’m not the damsel-in-distress type, Brad.”

  After he switched on the inside light, his appraisal of her was quick, from her off-white sweater to her flat tan leather shoes. “I may have to carry you inside, as well as the supplies. How far do you think you’re going to get in those shoes?”

  When she looked him over, from his jean jacket to his black boots, she mumbled, “I have sneakers in my suitcase.”

  “Good. You’ll need them. Do you want me to get them out now?”

  She shook her head. When she did, he couldn’t help but follow the sway of her dark hair along her cheeks. He couldn’t help but think how silky it looked and how he’d love to feel its softness in his hands.

  “I’ll keep the sneakers dry for tomorrow,” she responded quietly. “Let’s just get inside.”

  Blocking thoughts of touching Emily out of his head, realizing she was as stubborn as he was, he didn’t argue with her. If she wanted wet feet, that was her choice.

  As Brad exited the car, snow fell on his head and shoulders. He took in a couple of lungfuls of cold night air, surveyed the pines not far from the cabin illuminated by the car’s headlights and realized he was glad he was here. He’d only be in Montana a few days, but already he was relieved he was away from the city…away from his father…away from Suzette Brouchard and a situation he couldn’t resolve until the lab results came in.

  Out here, all of that seemed very far away.

  After he rounded the car to open the trunk, Emily appeared beside him. He’d loaded batteries into the flashlight after he’d bought it and now he used it to guide his key into the lock on the trunk. When it popped open, he shone the beam inside.

  Emily reached for her suitcase, but his hand covered hers. “I’ll get that.”

  His skin meeting hers sent an electric jolt to his system. When his gaze collided with hers, he saw she was as affected by the result of their contact as he was. Her expression was startled, her eyes wide with man-woman awareness. Snow was settling in her hair, falling onto her long, dark lashes unenhanced by mascara. They didn’t need to be enhanced.

  When she shivered, he ordered gruffly, “Just grab a bag with groceries. I’ll take care of the rest.”

  Ignoring his instructions, she hung her camera bag around her neck, then picked up two bags and started the ten-yard trek to the cabin.

  Brad swore softly, shook his head and decided the next few days were going to be damn interesting. For the past six months Emily Stanton had played the part of a dependable secretary who kept her opinions to herself. Now he realized there was a woman behind that facade—a woman with spirit and a mind of her own.

  The rustic-looking log cabin didn’t have a porch, simply two snow-covered redwood steps leading to the door.

  Watching Emily as her small feet sank into the snow, Brad followed her. When the sole of her leather shoe sank onto the first step, her foot slipped. He realized he’d been expecting that to happen.

  Dropping the suitcases, his arms went around her and the grocery bags to prevent her and their supplies from tumbling into the snow. Her shoulder brushed his chest as he caught her, and his nose grazed her hair—hair that smelled like flowers!

  As she looked up at him, their faces were very close. Their white breaths in the cold air mingled as she said, “I’m fine,” and he murmured, “I’ve got you.”

  For a long, silent winter moment, everything went still. Their body heat seemed to create a cocoon of warmth diametrically opposed to the elements surrounding them. With the headlights of the car shining toward the cabin, he could see her expression in the shadows. It was questioning now—surprised and even a little curious. He was curious, too, about the vibrations humming between them, the chemistry that had seemed to spring up out of nowhere yesterday outside his office. Snowflakes landed on Emily’s bangs, on his nose. If he bent his head, their lips would brush. If he turned her to face him…

  A gust of wind buffeted them.

  He had to get a grip. This wasn’t a fun getaway for two. They were in Thunder Canyon to work and nothing else. He and Emily weren’t from the same world. In many ways she was very much like his ex-fiancée, Robin. She came from a blue-collar family, hadn’t known many advantages and was trying to make the best of her circumstances. Robin had made the best of her circumstances by accepting his father’s check and bailing out of Brad’s life.

  Years later, he knew he should never have gone after her. He should never have heard her say she had feelings for him but wanted the good life now. His father’s money had given her freedom, and she wanted to experience it alone.

  The good life. Freedom. He had both, but lately he’d felt more restless than satisfied or happy.

  Releasing Emily, he said, “We’re getting wet.”

  As another gust of wind and snow brushed across the front of the cabin, Brad used the key Caleb had given him, pushed the door open and stepped inside.

  Emily watched Brad enter like a man on a mission. She could hardly keep her teeth from chattering now, but for those few moments when Brad had held her she’d been as warm as toast.

  He hadn’t held her. He’d caught her. And if she hadn’t seen the desire in his eyes to kiss her…

  She simply hadn’t. Her imagination was working way past overtime.

  Suddenly she realized Brad had probably gone into the cabin ahead of her to search for creatures. Were there bears in Montana? She’d seen those movies where animals in the wild had broken through windows and played havoc inside a vacationer’s paradise.

  This was not her idea of a vacation. A vacation destination for her would be a sunny beach on an island, swimming to her heart’s content, dancing under the stars.

  With whom?

  Shaking disturbing visions of Brad from her mental images, she followed the glow of Brad’s flashlight as he found the light switch.

  The switch controlled the overhead light in the kitchen, and she took in the place where they’d be spending the night. They’d stepped into a living room with a wood floor, Native American patterned rugs, a hunter-green tweedy sofa and a tan leather club chair with a buffalo painted on its cushion. The log walls were devoid of decoration, but a boo
kshelf sat against one wall across from the club chair. The sofa faced the fireplace that was small but beautiful with its stone hearth and chimney.

  Peering straight through the living room, she saw the small kitchen had an oven, burners and a compact refrigerator. To her left, she tried to see into the darkness of the bedroom, but she wasn’t able to. She supposed the bathroom was in there.

  Finding the thermostat on the wall, Brad went to it and heat clicked on. “I’ll get the rest of the supplies. Don’t even think about trying to help me,” he said with a stern look. “Get warm.”

  For some reason, when he looked at her, she got very warm. But she’d never admit that.

  Taking her suitcase from the floor, he carried it to the bedroom. She saw him turn on a small lamp and then he set her valise on the bed.

  “You can sleep in there tonight,” he said, emerging from the bedroom. “I’ll take the sofa.”

  In the office setting, Emily hadn’t glimpsed Brad’s chivalrous side, though he did always open doors for her. She was a bit surprised by it.

  When Brad opened the door to return outside, she heard the wind howl. He was going to freeze until he brought everything in. She knew he was probably used to fine brandy, but tonight maybe he’d appreciate hot chocolate.

  As Brad brought in the last of the bags of supplies and placed them on the wrought-iron-and-glass kitchen table, he began unpacking them. After storing the cookies in an upper cabinet, he put milk and juice into the refrigerator. Emily couldn’t help but watch his every move.

  “What?” he asked when he caught her interest.

  She felt color rise to her cheeks. She’d been admiring his height, his broad shoulders, his adaptability to the situation. Brad Vaughn had to be used to maid service, but he was putting his groceries away. “Nothing.”

  “What were you thinking, Emily?” His gaze pinned her to the spot, and she knew he wasn’t going to let her evade him. Brad didn’t let anybody evade him.

  Choosing her words carefully, she selected the ones that were most diplomatic. “I was just surprised you were putting away the supplies.”

  Like a panther cornering its prey, Brad took a few steps closer to her. “Surprised?”

  “Guys don’t usually think about things like that.”

  To her relief, he didn’t seem angry. “Guys? Meaning any guy in particular?”

  His closeness unnerved her, and she quietly unscrambled her thoughts. “My brother, for instance. You’d think with three sisters and a mom he would have learned to pick up after himself after all these years. But even his wife says he’s impossible.”

  Instead of focusing on her brother, Brad asked, “Did your parents divorce?”

  “No. Dad died when I was ten. An aneurysm he never knew he had burst.”

  “I’m sorry. You said you have a brother and sisters?”

  “Eric’s two years older than I am. Lizbeth and Elaine are younger. What about you? Brothers and sisters?”

  Brad shook his head. As the wind rattled the windowpane, he still studied her closely. “It must have been hard for your mom to raise you on her own.”

  “It was. We all had part-time jobs as soon as we could.”

  When he reached out and slid his hand down the back of her hair, she closed her eyes, amazed by the sensations coursing through her.

  “It’s still damp,” he murmured.

  “It will dry,” she responded, opening her eyes again, gazing into his brown ones, suddenly wanting to feel his lips on hers more than anything else she’d ever wanted.

  The windowpane rattled again, and she couldn’t believe she was even thinking such a thought. Gathering her wits about her, she turned away from him and switched off the burner on the stove. “I’ll have hot chocolate ready in a minute, and then we can think about supper.”

  “If we can agree on what to eat.” His voice was a bit husky. “Your taste and mine seem to run in different directions.”

  “I don’t eat a lot of meat,” she admitted. “But if you want to pan fry that steak, I can make a huge salad—”

  All at once, there was sudden and complete darkness and an all-encompassing silence. Then the wind whooshed against the cabin once more and the whole building seemed to quake.

  “Damn,” she heard Brad mutter. “Where’s my flashlight?”

  “I have a penlight on my key chain.”

  “But you’d have to find your key chain,” he said in a wry tone.

  In the pitch blackness she knew it would be hard to find anything. As afraid as she was in their present situation, Emily was concerned that if she moved she’d bump into Brad, and that seemed even more dangerous than standing in darkness in a strange place. So she stayed put, trying to remember where she’d dropped her purse. She thought it was on the buffalo chair, but she wasn’t sure.

  She heard Brad moving around, shifting bags on the table. Finally he announced, “Got it.” A moment later, a beam of light streaked to where she was standing.

  “I’m fine, but what are we going to do? Without the power, we don’t have any heat.”

  “Slow down, Emily. We’ve got a fireplace. There’s wood on the hearth and probably more out back. I think I spotted an oil lantern over on those bookshelves.”

  Dipping his hand into one of their bags, he produced matches. After he found the lantern, he lit it. The light vanquished some of the darkness in the living room area.

  “There’s a can of lantern oil here, but we should still probably conserve it. Why don’t you make that hot chocolate while I go out and check the wood supply.”

  “Why check it? If we already have some here—”

  “I have to see how much we have. We may have to make it last.”

  “Only one night.” While he aimed the flashlight at the floor, she couldn’t see his face in the shadows. “Brad? It’s only going to be one night, isn’t it?”

  “Let’s just take things as they come.”

  “What aren’t you telling me? We can’t get snowed in here for days, can we?”

  “I doubt that, but I don’t want to run out of wood, either.”

  “From what I could see, there were trees everywhere.”

  “There are. But even if I had an ax, everything’s wet. Green wood smokes. I’m hoping there’s a supply of covered logs out back. Make the hot chocolate.”

  He was keeping something from her—she knew he was—and she wasn’t going to plead with him to tell her. She wouldn’t plead with a man for anything.

  Five minutes later, when Brad returned from checking the wood pile, his face looked grim.

  Emily panicked. “What?”

  He’d carried in a few logs and now he deposited them on the hearth. “This is it.”

  She was shivering again. She’d taken off her sweater because it was damp from the snow. The temperature in the cabin was only a little warmer than when they’d arrived. Her slacks were still wet and her stockings, too.

  Shrugging out of his jacket, he hung it over a kitchen chair. He was wearing a western-cut, blue plaid shirt, and the truth was, he looked as if he belonged in Montana. She obviously didn’t. Brad Vaughn was sexy enough in the suits he usually wore, but in jeans and a snap-button shirt…

  She swallowed hard.

  “What do you want to do first? Drink the hot chocolate or change your clothes?” He looked down at her slacks, which were wrinkled against her ankles. “You’ve got to get out of the wet clothes so you can warm up. I hope you brought something comfortable.”

  At the last minute, she’d thrown in a pair of sweats. “I did, but I don’t really have anything warm.”

  “I’ve got to get the fire going. Once I do that, we’ll raid the closets and drawers and see what we can find. We’ll both have to sleep in here tonight by the fire to keep warm.”

  Her gaze automatically slanted to the sofa.

  “You can have that,” he said generously. “I’ll make a bedroll on the floor.”

  “That’ll be hard.”


  “I’ve camped out before. I’ll be fine. If it gets too uncomfortable, I can always try the buffalo chair. I can usually sleep anywhere.”

  Sleeping brought to mind beds. Beds brought to mind what men and women did in beds. Pushing away visions of her and Brad in a bed, she remembered the article in the newspaper yesterday morning. She remembered Suzette Brouchard and the claim that Brad was her baby’s father. She remembered Brad’s rich-bachelor lifestyle.

  “Go on,” he said with a nod. “Take your hot chocolate with you. Drink it while it’s warm.”

  “We won’t be able to make steak for supper.”

  “We’re not going to starve. We have plenty of food and we’ve got the Sterno burners. Relax, Emily. You’re going to get gray hair if you keep worrying about everything.”

  Suddenly the whole situation—Montana, the snow, being cooped up with Brad Vaughn in the cabin—got to be too overwhelming.

  As she straightened her shoulders and lifted her chin, she said, “Maybe I’ve never been to Montana and maybe I’ve never gone camping, but you don’t have to treat me like a child.”

  Picking up her mug of hot chocolate, she tried not to let it slosh over her hand as she made her escape into the bedroom.

  It would have been a good exit, but then Brad called to her. “Emily, you’re going to need this.”

  When she turned, he held out the flashlight to her. “I can use the oil lamp. You won’t be able to see in the bedroom.”

  Did she spot amusement in his eyes? Was that an almost smile at the corner of his lips?

  Grabbing the flashlight, she mumbled, “Thank you,” and headed for the dark room.

  After she pushed the door shut, she hated the fact that tears pricked in her eyes. The attraction to Brad Vaughn that had plagued her ever since she’d started working at Vaughn Associates had been buried with a lot of effort. But this trip was bringing it to the surface, and she didn’t want it. She didn’t need it. As soon as Lizbeth graduated from college at the end of May, she was going to earn her own degree. Then she could become more than a secretary. She could become anything she wanted—except maybe the kind of woman Brad Vaughn dated.