I awaken and he’s already gone, as is so often the case. No one works harder than Knox. Each day I spend with him I admire him more. This country was built by people like him.

And me, I mentally add. Up here in the woods, I feel stronger. I know technically I was drugged and abducted, but I don’t feel like a victim. Each day up here in the wilderness with Knox I’m waking up. I’m becoming more alive, more aware of myself, more my own person.

I’ve spent so much of my life like a ping-pong ball, bouncing around from place to place at the whim of my mother. She always believed something better was just around the corner. It might sound like optimism, but in practice it meant we never set down roots, never established strong relationships, never appreciated what we had around us as we chased an elusive dream.

Add to that all the fear I’ve always had around men, and I realize I’ve spent most of my life like a frightened mouse. If the old me had found out what was about to happen—stolen away by a big, gruff military man and kept in a cabin in the middle of nowhere—I would have been terrified. Sure, I read naughty romances about that kind of thing, enjoying a little late-night indulgence, but to have it happen in real life? A nightmare.

But look at me now. I’m doing just fine. More than fine. I’m thriving.

Maybe I had to get stolen away to finally find my way home.

Showered and dressed in one of my new white T-shirts and Knox’s sweatpants rolled over at the waist, I gather together what little laundry we have. I use the kitchen sink, then shrug on my jacket to bring them outside on the line to dry.

Shivering, I sense a storm in the air. I don’t know a heck of a lot about nature and seasonal changes, but just about everything around me seems to shout, “Winter Is Here!” The trees bare save the pines, the air silent and still, the sky overcast and gray, I’d bet money snow is about to start falling. A lot of it.

I peer into the woods, so bare and stark, yet no sign of Knox. It makes me shudder. I can’t wait until he’s home. Such a giant, silent man, still so full of mysteries. What was he like in high school? Why did he join the military? Has he ever been in love before?

A shiver runs down my spine and I decide, no, I don’t want to know the answer to that one. Not if it’s a yes. I want to preserve the illusion that what’s happening between us is as groundbreaking, as breathtaking to him as it is to me.

In the cabin, I clean, sweeping and scrubbing the wood floors, wiping down the windows until they gleam. It gives me satisfaction, tidying this small space, our home.

I’ve spent so much of my life unprotected, moving around, no one looking out for me. Now here I am, in the greatest danger I’ve ever faced, yet strangely I feel watched over. Gruff and silent and domineering as he is, I know Knox has my back. He’d stop anyone who tried to hurt me dead in their tracks.

I cup the spot where the sharp needle jabbed my neck. It healed days ago, but I still feel the sting. I wince, remembering the terror of that moment when my fears became reality.

Knox will never let that happen again.

I find one of his flannel shirts draped over a chair. Pressing it to my nose, I inhale his scent. It hits me the way realizations sometimes do, all at once and unexpected: I’m falling in love with him.

It may be crazy. Possibly completely misguided. But I’m falling head-over-heels in love with this man I know so little about.

And tonight I’m going to give myself to him completely. No reservations, no hesitations. I’ll put all of my trust in his hands. He’ll guide and teach me. And if tonight is anything like any of our other nights together, he’ll show me pleasure like I’ve never known.

I don’t know if it’s here in this cabin or somewhere else, but I want to make my home with this man. This big, rough man I somehow feel like I belong with. And he belongs with me. A rare sense of peace settles around my heart.

Until the door opens with a bang, making me jump. Knox staggers in with a gust of frigid air and the first few flakes of snow. His face looks pale, almost gray.

“What’s wrong?” I fly to him as he leans over onto the table with a deep groan. I shut the door, bolting it closed, then come to his side. “Knox, what is it?”

Then I see, the left back of his jacket is bloody and torn. So much blood, still seeping out of him. My heart seizes as I gasp, “What happened?”

“Bear.” He pants, his knuckles white as he grips the table. “Need stitches.”

“Yes, OK.” Springing into action, I look for my boots. I can get the truck keys from him. I can drive us to the nearest hospital. He’ll make it. It’s going to be all right.

“You.” He sits, heavy and clumsy, into a chair, his face twisting into a grimace. “You do it,” he grits out.

“Me?” Frozen, I look over at him. He can’t be serious. I’m no nurse. Band-Aids, sure. Wound care after bear attacks? I’m woozy at the thought.

“No time. Losing blood. Snow.” He jerks his head at the window. I see flakes falling fast, the start of a big storm. He winces, trying to take off his jacket, then stops with pain.

Had I been feeling like a pioneer woman, making a homestead with my man? I’d been waltzing around the room humming and thinking dreamy thoughts about how I was falling in love. I waver for a second in the balance.

This is it. He needs me. Can I do it?

“I need alcohol to clean your back.” I spring into action, heading to the sink to wash my hands. “And a needle and thread. I’ll boil some water to sterilize it.”

I don’t even recognize my voice as it comes out strong and sure. “I’ll take care of you.”

I have no choice but to act. The man I love needs me. I have to do everything I can to make sure he’s all right.