Mandy was still scowling when Caleb swung back into the driver’s seat and handed her the key to cottage number six. He slammed the door shut behind him. The rain was now pounding down on the roof, and the wind was lashing the trees around them. Caleb’s clothes and hair were soaked from the sprint to the small office building and back again.
“I’m in seven,” he offered amicably. “We’re down at the end of the river road.” He pulled ahead, carefully maneuvering the SUV through the muddy ruts and around the deepest of the puddles.
“Thank you,” she offered stiffly, eyes straight ahead.
“We should probably try to get away early in the morning,” he continued, while the bright headlights bounced against the dripping, undulating aspen branches.
Mandy gripped the armrest and braced her feet against the floor.
“The restaurant opens at seven. That good for you?”
“I’ll be ready,” she said.
“Great.” He supposed he’d have to be content with her agreeing to drive with him at all. Cordiality was probably still a fair way down the road.
The dark outline of a two-story cottage came into view. His headlights picked up the signs for numbers six and seven on the post out front. There were porches on both stories and a long staircase running between them.
“You’re on top,” he told Mandy as he brought the vehicle as close to the building as possible.
She reached for the car door handle.
“Hang on,” he cautioned, opening his own door.
He quickly rounded the hood as she opened her door. His boots sank into the mud, and a river of water flowed over them.
“Hold still,” he told her, putting a hand out to stop her progress. He reached into the vehicle to lift her from the seat.
“Back off,” she warned him, holding up a finger.
“Don’t be ridiculous.” Undeterred, he slid an arm around the small of her back. “There’s no sense in both of us ruining our shoes.”
“I’ve waded through mud before.”
“Bully for you.” He wove his other arm beneath her jean-covered knees. “Hang on.”
“This is ridiculous,” she muttered, but her arms went around his neck, anchoring her to him.
He straightened and shoved the door shut with his knee. Then he ducked his head over hers and mounted the stairs.
“Key?” he asked, setting her down as they made it to the narrow shelter in front of the cottage door.
“Right here.” With dripping hands, she inserted the key into the lock.
Caleb turned the door handle, yawing the door wide into the dark room. He felt for the light switch on the inside wall, finding it, flipping it, bringing two lamps to life on either side of the king-size bed.
The room was peak-ceilinged and airy, with a cream-colored love seat and two padded armchairs at the far end. The living room grouping bracketed a sliding-glass door that opened to a small balcony. The bed was covered in an English country floral quilt, with six plump pillows and a gauzy canopy. Candles and knickknacks lined the mantel above a false fireplace. And a small kitchenette next to the bathroom door completed the suite.
“They said the heater was tricky,” Caleb explained to Mandy, crouching down next to the propane unit, squinting at the faded writing on the knobs.
“I’m not cold,” she told him.
He pressed the red button, turning the black knob to pilot. “If you do get cold, you can adjust it up like this.” He turned to find her still standing next to the open door. “Will you come and look?”
“I’m sure it’s not that complicated.”
“You’re behaving like a two-year-old.”
“Because I won’t roll over and play dead? I have to wonder what kind of people you employ, Caleb. Do you have a string of yes-men who follow you around all day, never questioning your infinite wisdom?”
“No,” he answered simply, deciding he liked it better when she was giving him the silent treatment. “Do you want to know how to work the heater or not?”
“Not.”
He shrugged and rose to his feet, dusting off his hands. “Suit yourself.”
Refusing to cater to her temper any longer, he crossed the room, bid her good night and firmly closed the door behind him, trotting swiftly down the staircase to open his own cottage.
His suite was slightly larger than Mandy’s, but with the same English country look, deep mattress, plump pillows and floral curtains. He adjusted his own heater, slipped off his wet leather boots and stripped his way out of his soaking clothes.
The cottage provided a health kit with a toothbrush, toothpaste, comb, shaving razor and cream, along with a few other necessities, including scented body wash, which he set aside in favor of the plain bar of soap.
Half an hour later, Caleb felt refreshed. He’d opened the minibar to find a light beer, chose a magazine from the selection on the coffee table and stretched out under the quilt in his boxers.
He entered the password into his phone and chose the email icon. He scrolled through the messages, finding one from Danielle labeled
He responded, telling her he’d be back to the ranch tomorrow morning with a box full of auto parts and a fat, bonus check. He didn’t let on that Travis had told him the whole story. He might as well let Danielle keep some of her dignity.
He dealt with the most pressing issues on his phone, then switched to the sports magazine, finding an article on his favorite basketball team. He read it and then checked the NASCAR stats. A crack of thunder rumbled in the distance, and the wind picked up outside. Sudden waves of rain battered the windowpanes, while the lights flickered, putting the room in darkness for a split second.
A few power flickers later, Caleb felt himself dozing off, and he set the magazine aside.
The next thing he knew, he was jolted awake by a deafening crash. The room was in pitch darkness, and the storm howled on outside. He rocketed out of bed, rushing to the window, guessing at the direction of the sound.
A flash of lightning revealed the Escalade was intact. But a large tree had fallen across the dirt road, crushing the low fence in front of the cottage, its topmost branches resting against the front wall. Perfect. They were going to need a chain saw before they could go anywhere in the morning.
He let the curtain drop, and as he did, a loud, long crack reverberated through the building. Before he could react, a roar shattered the air and the building jolted, wood groaning and splintering in the night.
Caleb was out the door in a shot, taking the stairs three at a time, terrified that the tree had come through the roof and Mandy had been hurt. He flung open her door. It was either unlocked or he’d broken it down. He wasn’t sure which. But his entire body shuddered in relief at the sight of her standing next to the sofa, peering out the glass doors, lightning illuminating the room like a strobe light.
“It was a tree,” she told him, turning in her bra and panties. “Sheared the balcony railing right off.”
He strode across the room. “Are you okay?”
She nodded. “I’m fine. Wow. That’s some storm going on out there.” Lightning strikes were coming one after the other, thunder following almost instantaneously.
“I don’t think you’re safe up here.” He found himself putting a protective arm around her shoulders. His gaze went reflexively to her sky-blue bra and silky underwear. It was completely inappropriate to stare, but he couldn’t help himself.
“I’m fine,” she argued. “How many trees can possibly-”
Another tree cracked and crashed in the woods nearby.
She blinked at him. “This must be the storm of the century.”
“Put your clothes on,” he told her. There was no way he was leaving her up here.
She glanced down at her body, seeming to suddenly remember what she was wearing. She quickly folded her arms across her breasts.
