“I’m getting tired of waking up cold and sore,” I grumbled. At least today I was able to ease my body upright without everything in me screaming in agony. It just moaned instead. I considered that progress.

It was cold in the cabin, and although I hadn’t looked around, I had a feeling I was alone in there.

“Lukas?” I called out.

There was no answer.

Shivering, I climbed from the fading warmth of the bed and went over to the fire. It was down to coals, and I jabbed at them with the poker a bit, then added one of the logs from the stack nearby. I hovered there, watching until flames began to lick up the sides of the dried wood then I hurried back over to the bed, diving back into the blankets.

I wrapped them around me, shivering as I waited to warm back up and wondered where Lukas was. The fire had died down so low, I knew he hadn’t been in here in a little while, but where was he?

The question nagged at me until I clambered out of bed, keeping one of the thicker blankets wrapped around me as I moved over to the window. Watery sunlight filtered down through the clouds, and while the snow and rain had stopped, I couldn’t tell if the storms were done or just taking a timeout.

For a few minutes, I paced, casting looks at the window, then the door as I wondered where Lukas could have gone. What was I going to do if he had just…left?

“Why would he do that?” I muttered.

It wasn’t like he had to go and save me from the wolves.

“You don’t know that he did, though.”

Talking to myself, arguing with myself was going to drive me insane.

My bladder ended up driving me to the bathroom, and after I’d taken care of that, I took a better look at the scratches on my face and hands. They weren’t deep, and they already looked better, save for one along my jawline that would probably take a few days to heal. Head cocked to the side, I eyed it. I’d probably hit a rock or something.

I wondered if it would scar, then imagined what my mother and sisters would think about all of this.

I could just see them all shaking their heads in despair.

Of course, it would happen to Stella.

Not that they wouldn’t be worried about me. I had no doubt that they were, but out of my perfect family, I was the one who had things…happen. And if somebody was going to be in a plane crash, it would be me. If somebody was going to escape a near-wolf attack, it would be me. If somebody would end up trapped in a cabin with a mountain man…

A door opened.

I rushed from the bathroom and came out just in time to see Lukas stepping out of his boots. He glanced my way, then went back to what he was doing. He took off his coat, and I felt my breath hitch in my chest as the material of his flannel stretched tight across wide shoulders as he hung the heavy outerwear up.

He really was a rather fine specimen of manflesh, I had to admit.

“Hi,” I said nervously.

He gave me a short nod.

“You…um…were you out looking for Hank by any chance?” I asked.

“I found the crash site.” He moved over to the fire and poked at the log I’d added, then tossed on another one. “It’s cold in here.”

“I know…I just woke up a little while ago. I put that log on, but I’m sort of used to central heat, not fireplaces.” It was a lame attempt at a quip.

He didn’t even smile.

“Was Hank there?” I asked when he offered nothing else beyond the fact that he’d found the crash site.

“No.” He shot me another look. “There were a lot of footprints – looks like a helicopter landed close by. I’d say he was rescued not long after the storm broke. If you hadn’t gone off chasing wolves, you’d be tucked up some place nice and warm right now.”

“I wasn’t chasing wolves,” I snapped.

The only sound he made was a low snort.

“I was trying to get to a spot that I could get bars on my cell phone,” I informed him. “My cell phone…”

Abruptly, I realized I hadn’t seen it since I took my tumble right after the encounter with the wolves. Shit. “I don’t have my phone. Do you have a phone?”

“No landline.” He jabbed at the fire again, then made a satisfied grunt, rising to his full height. He had to be close to six and a half feet. “No cell phone is going to work up here. I found a suitcase in the airplane. Is it yours?”

The question distracted me from the idea of trying to call for help – briefly. Turning my head, I spied the carryon I’d been lugging around since I’d left New York and a thankful sigh escaped my lips. I always packed a couple days worth of clothes in my carryon, thanks to the airlines losing my luggage a time or two. Most of my stuff was being shipped out, but at least I had a change of clothes. “Thank you,” I said, moving to get it.

He brought it to me and hefted it up onto the bed. I went to touch his arm.

He moved back – fast.

Feeling slightly stung, I turned my back on him and sat down, unzipping the carryon. Everything inside it was stilled neatly tucked into place thanks to the straps and the fact that I had it crammed tight. “I can clean up and change now.”

He didn’t respond.

“Was there a note? Any kind of message Hank might have left?” I asked. “Are they out there looking for me?”

“Not right now.” He glanced toward the window. “There’s a break in the storm, but it’s already starting back up. Look.”

I groaned at the sight of flurries swirling outside the window. I’d just seen the sun not even ten minutes ago. Tearing my mind away from the weather, I went back to the topic of Hank. “You’re sure he was rescued?”

“I didn’t see it happen personally,” he replied, his voice short. “But it looked like it. There were footprints inside the fuselage of the plane, and more than a few.”

Anxious, I got up to pace. “I need to call my family. If Hank gets into town and nobody knows where I am, they are going to be frantic. Is there anybody near here that has a phone?”

“No.” He blew out a breath and turned away. “I can’t get you to a phone, but I’ve got a shortwave radio that we can use to contact emergency services. They can figure out a way to get word to your parents.”

“Oh, thank God.” Relief flooded me. “And my boyfriend. Somebody needs to call my boyfriend,” I added.

His lips twisted into a sardonic smile, and abruptly, the dream from the past night flashed through my mind. You don’t want to eat me, do you?

The wolf had licked his lips as he looked me over.

Now, as Lukas turned his head and met my eyes, he gave me another penetrating glance. It was quick, over in a blink, but I felt like that look had seen clear through me.

“And your boyfriend,” he repeated in a monotone.

* * *

Ten minutes later, I had assurances from the nearest sheriff’s department that they’d get word to my parents and Aaron that I was safe. It sounded like the sheriff knew Lukas, judging by the rapport the two of them shared and I felt better with every passing moment.

After he’d put the shortwave radio away, I looked at him with a thankful smile. “Thank you.”

He just shrugged and went about making lunch.

I offered to help, but he brushed it aside. “Rest. You’re still injured.”

“It’s just a headache,” I said and offered my help once more.

“No.”

It was delivered so curtly, I backed off, retreating to the bed I’d used since I’d woken here. I didn’t lay down though. I unzipped my suitcase and went through it, finding the warmest clothes I had. “Do you need to use the bathroom?”

He made a go-ahead gesture, and I tucked myself into the small bathroom, away from the somewhat terse silence.

Maybe Lukas just didn’t know how to interact around people. If he lived here, then he probably didn’t run into a lot of people. How long had he lived here? Did he just not like human beings?

I could understand that.

Sometimes I didn’t like them myself.

But there was no reason for the two of us to barely speak or dance on eggshells as we waited for me to be rescued. Right?

So…we could talk.

Or at least I could – I’d ask questions, and we’d sort of get to know each other.

It wasn’t like I had anything better to do.

* * *

“Do you know how to have a conversation?” I snapped at him.

It was probably four or five hours later. I’d lost track of time, and he didn’t exactly have a clock hanging on the wall of his sparsely furnished cabin. He wore a watch, but I think he’d grown tired of having me ask, “What time is it,” after about the third or fourth time.

Over the meal he’d prepared for dinner – venison steaks with baked potatoes…soooo good – he looked up and met my eyes. “I know how to have conversations,” he said, his tone pleasant enough. Then he added coolly, “I just don’t like having them.”

Aggravated, I shot to my feet, grabbing my mostly empty plate and carrying it to the sink. I could have eaten more of the steak – there was a piece left on the serving platter, but it was really hard to sit and eat across from somebody who didn’t want to speak to you.

So I just wasn’t going to bother.

“I’ll take care of the dishes,” Lukas said when I started to fill the sink with water.

“I’m not helpless,” I responded, my tone as short as his was.

When he didn’t respond, I went about washing my plate and flatware, then the small baking tray he’d used for the potatoes. When I was done, I dried the dishes and put them away.

He was still sitting at the table eating.

I had a feeling he was taking his time to avoid me.

It was enough to give me a complex.

Tempted to just go and lie down, I wondered how much longer I’d have to deal with this – then something occurred to me. “I’ve been sleeping in your bed.”

He tensed.

It was so minute, I might have missed it, but I was watching him closely – looking for a reaction, I guess.

I finally got one.

He slid me a look from the corner of his eye, then shrugged, the movement almost too casual. “There’s only one, and you’re hurt. I’m fine in the chair.”

“But I can–”

My attempt to tell him that I’d do fine in the chair – and hey, it was closer to the fire – was cut short but a heavy crashing noise, and the tinkling sound of shattering glass.

I jumped, a startled yelp leaving my lips, as a huge tree branch came crashing through the window just beyond Lukas’s right side.

He swore and twisted away, although it was maybe a foot shy of hitting him.

Heart pounding, I rushed to his side – or tried to. He caught me around the waist and scooped me up onto the table. “Shoes,” he said shortly.

The word made no sense. “What?”

“There’s glass all over the floor. You need more than socks on your feet.”

He brought me the hiking boots I’d been wearing on the plane, and I dutifully pulled them on, lacing them up halfway before I leaped off the table. He pulled his coat on, and I shifted nervously from one foot to the other. “What are you doing?”

He gave me an are you fucking kidding me look. “I need to get that out of the window so we can get it covered up.”

“Oh.” Clearing my throat, I looked from the heavy branch back to him. “Should I help?”

He shook his head, and a moment later, he disappeared out the door.

I sighed, then looked around.

Well, he’d said there was glass all over the floor. I could work on that.

* * *

It was freezing in the cabin by the time we were done. Lukas had boarded the window up from the outside, then come back inside with a sheet of plastic from somewhere. He nailed that into place, then rummaged up more blankets and added those to the window as well.

“It’s still going to be cold,” he said, not looking at me.

I dumped the last of the glass into the garbage can.

“It’s better than nothing though.”

Nervously, I glanced back at one of the other windows. “And what do we do if the storm gets worse and it gets a lot colder?”

Lukas didn’t answer, but his face was grim.