Mitch stifled a groan. “I should warn Jaye you intend to win all her money.”
“She already knows. I told her at lunch. Even if you wanted to track her down, you can’t. She went for a run.” Veronica hoisted her purse over one shoulder and made a face. “No wonder she’s so slender and cute.”
He glanced out the window at the setting sun and felt a splash of unease. The sky was a dusky blue, the dim light making it hard to determine what was real or imagined. “Where did she go running?”
“Near your house.” Sarah gave up trying to button her coat over her pregnant belly. “She found a trail the day after she moved in.”
“What do you mean, moved in?” Dread thumped in the pit of his stomach. How did Sarah know Jaye was living with him? He made a point not to mention the arrangement to anyone in order to avoid any gossip.
“Aw, come on, Mitch. We all know she’s living in your extra bedroom. There’s no other place for her to stay.” Sarah bumped Mitch on the arm. “Even though you haven’t told a soul, your father can’t keep a secret for the life of him.”
Mitch thought of his father’s refusal to talk about his mother’s abrupt departure. “Depends on the secret.”
Sarah and Veronica traded a look.
One of the men from the shipping department stuck his head into the office. “I’ve gotta go. One of my EMT buddies said some woman wandered into the woods near a hunting blind and got grazed by an arrow. Some idiot thought she was a deer. I’m helping the guys find her.”
A piercing alarm jolted through Mitch. “Where is she?”
“All I know is she headed into the state forest somewhere near the outskirts of town. She called 911 on her cell phone. They’re triangulating her position.”
“Damn. Jaye just went for a run in the woods.”
The man frowned. “Does she know which trails the hunters use?”
“No, she doesn’t.” Mitch stuffed his mail back into his cubby, not caring when half of the envelopes fell out. All he could think about was Jaye somewhere out in the woods, wounded. Considering how jumpy she’d been about the dark forest the night they met, he had a feeling she’d be terrified lying there hurt and alone.
He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and dialed her number, struggling to punch the keypad with shaking hands. The call went right to her voice mail, which meant she was out of cell range or didn’t have her phone. Either option was a good sign. She probably wasn’t the one who called 911, but he didn’t want to take any chances.
“Sarah, I’m going to find Jaye. Tell Phil to lock up when he leaves.” Not bothering to get his coat, Mitch headed out of the administrative offices. He broke into a run in the lobby, nearly colliding into Abigail. Skidding to a halt, he grabbed her so she wouldn’t fall. “Are you all right?”
“Yes, I’m fine.” She gave his arm a fond squeeze. “I’m glad I ran into you. The new line of stemware is a big hit. Everyone loves the shape of the cup.”
“Good.” He patted her delicate hand. “I’ve gotta go find Jaye.”
“Yes, act fast.” Abigail’s wrinkled face creased into a merry wink. “I know Jaye likes you. She said your ass is special.”
“What?” His voice cracked like he was in seventh grade again.
Another salesgirl leaned out the door. “No, Abigail. Jaye said Mitch’s glass is special.”
“Whoops.” Abigail shrugged and pointed to her hearing aide. “Guess I need a new battery.”
Propelled by a surge of desperation, Mitch sprinted to his truck and floored the gas for home.
Jaye ignored her throbbing hand and sprinted the last quarter mile down the hill. She slowed to a walk when the trees thinned near the west end of Mitch’s yard. The last tendrils of sunset clung to the bottom of the clouds, giving off enough light to spot the familiar lines of his brick house in the clearing.
Something about his place made her smile. Maybe it was the freshly painted wood columns on the front porch or the new shingles on the roof. No matter where she looked, she found evidence Mitch was transforming his house into a home anyone would love.
She walked up the long driveway and unzipped the front pocket of her bright yellow jacket to take out the house key. Careful not to smear blood on anything, she unlocked the back door and walked into the kitchen, heading for the sink to rinse off her palm.
The peaceful quiet shattered when the back door blasted open and Mitch barreled into the house. “Damn it, Jaye. Do you ever answer your phone? I’ve been calling for the past fifteen minutes.”
She glanced over her shoulder, surprised at the gruffness of his voice. “I turn off my phone when I run.”
“Not a good idea.” He spun her toward him and dropped his gaze to the red smear on her yellow jacket. “What the hell happened? You’re bleeding.” He yanked open her jacket and frowned at her black thermal shirt.
With some difficulty, she dislodged one of his hands. “This is no big deal.”
“Wrong answer. When you get hurt, it’s a big deal.” He lifted the hem of her shirt and slid his palm across her abdomen.
Shock slapped her, hard as a fist. She flicked his hand off her body. “For Pete’s sake, put down my shirt.”
“Where did he nick you?” He knelt to cup her ankle, smoothing his palms up her left leg.
Warmth from his hands radiated through her black running tights. His palms got halfway up her thigh, triggering a heavy, sexual pulse in her lower abdomen. She wiggled out of his grasp. “What are you doing?”
His hands examined her right leg. “If I find out who did this to you…” The sentence ended with an angry growl.
“Do you always pat down your houseguests? Frankly, this is getting
