A SMOKY MOUNTAIN CHRISTMAS
by
Carol DeVaney
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SMASHWORDS EDITION
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A Smoky Mountain Christmas
Copyright © 2011 by Carol DeVaney
All rights reserved. This story and any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author or publisher except for the use of brief quotations in critical articles or reviews.
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Smashwords Edition License Notes
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return to Smashwords and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author's work.
This story is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locales, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to any person (living or deceased), locale, or incident is purely coincidental.
Dedication
For Bill, who's earned the patience of Job and my love. To Michael, Beverly and Owen, the other sweet loves in my life. You make it all worthwhile. For Emaleigh my precious angel-girl. To June Faver, E. Ayers, and Tara Manderino, thanks for all your many hours of support.
*****
A SMOKY MOUNTAIN CHRISTMAS
CHAPTER ONE
Christmas was two days away.
So here she sat. Trapped. Trapped in The Smoky Mountain foothills in one of the worst snowstorms of the decade. Wasn’t that the pits? And, to top it off, not thirty minutes ago Tina listened through static on the radio, that two convicts had escaped a nearby prison. Wouldn’t you know they were seen heading into this area?
Snow continued to fall; a thing of beauty until its intensity turned nasty. Real nasty. The snow wasn’t all that was nasty. There’d be no more contact with the outside world, at least until her car was fixed or by some miracle there was life in this remote section of the mountains.
Snow crunched under her feet as she inched up the hill. Tina glanced back at her footsteps in the snow and the new BMW, its back tires half buried in the snow-bank. Old-Man-Trouble had hitched a ride up the mountain.
Oh, yeah—chalk another one up for Mom. As always, she’d pressed the necessity for snow chains before heading up the mountain. ‘You know, just in case,’ she’d said.
Had Tina listened? Of course not. Now her stubbornness had gotten her into a pickle. Her sister Rae’s cabin was tucked so far back in the mountains, she hadn’t a clue where the other graveled roads led. Neither had the two hundred dollar GPS that channeled through every pig-trail for miles around. So much for technology.
"God only knows where I am." Tina cupped her hands, blew into the gloves and wondered if her breath would freeze before it hit her fingertips.
A bitter chill wrapped around her neck as she slid fists inside her coat sleeves, leaned into the wind and snow and trudged upward away from the safety of her car.
"Smoke! Is that smoke?" She drew in a breath of cold air hoping against hope there was life in these God forsaken mountains. "Yes."
It was bad enough the conversation was one-sided, but the side roads had swallowed her up mile by mile. Lost was no way to celebrate Christmas. Or her twenty-fourth birthday.
Urgent situation here. Rubbish. She had rubbish for luck.
Anticipation and hope fed through the sun’s blinding shimmer on the snow as she searched in the direction of the smoke. She saw nothing, but since giving up wasn’t an option, she prayed for signs of life.
Then she eyed a wisp of smoke that spiraled from the top of the hill, and through a canopy of trees, her eyes feasted on a small cabin.
There is a God!
On a normal day, it wasn’t in Tina’s nature to forget her manners, nor was she bold enough to knock at a stranger’s door. But, hey, today was not normal.
Tina pulled her coat and a snug-wrapped cashmere scarf close to ward off the icy bite that crept in around her neck. Hesitant, she slid a numb-fingered hand from her coat’s short pocket and knocked on the solid wooden door.
She knocked once, twice, then a third time. "Anyone home?" She peeked toward the window, but the curtains shielded her view. "Please—my car’s in a ditch and won’t start."
While her hand slid down to the doorknob, she wondered how hard it would be to pick a lock, and in frustration gave the cold steel knob a twist. Much to her surprise the door creaked open.
Oops! She knew country people were trusting, still...who left a fireplace burning if they weren’t home? She called out again, but the only thing that met her ears, was the silence of the frosty winter’s day.
She couldn’t very well enter someone’s home without an invitation. Could she? No way. Up here in the mountains, trusting folks or not, it was a good wager you might get a backside full of buck-shot.
Tina tugged the door shut and turned to leave, but the swing on the end of the porch looked too inviting to walk away. She wasn’t sure how welcome she’d be to take up swing-residence, but at this point really didn’t give a hoot. She needed cover from the storm and quick, but breaking and entering wasn’t the solution. Not yet anyway.
Tina brushed a light snow dusting off the swing, and curled her feet under to warm her frozen toes. While she rested her head on the swing’s curved back, she kept an eye out on the door and hoped a warm body would show up.
The view from the top of the hill was postcard-unspoiled, and serene. The Smoky Mountain foothills lay before her, coated in sparkling white like icing swirls on cake. Quiet trickled alongside her brain; the only sound came from a soft plunk as gusts of wind slid snow from heavy-laden tree limbs.
A stranger’s porch and her thoughts were all she had.
Tina stopped the swing’s motion, the porch couldn’t afford the cover she needed from the cold, while the wind swept through her skirt like an arctic blast. Okay, then. It was back to the car. To freeze. But, she’d be back.
Tina slogged down the hill, tilted her head back, shaded her eyes, and took in the isolation. There was no life here, unless you counted the four shuttered, locked-down cabins hidden from her view earlier.
She slipped back inside her car and looked out over the lay of the land. Waiting was getting her nowhere. She leaned sideways on the seat, fumbled under the dash for the hood’s lever, found it and tugged until it clicked.
With unsuitable shoes for this weather, she slipped out onto the snow-crusted road and barely managed to get to the front of the car without breaking her neck. But, then she’d never been accused of being agile.
Her fingers slipped beneath the hood's edge and pulled on the cold steel lever until it popped. Now all she had to do was lift the heavy hood and stare in wonder at its contents. Right. Not like she’d know one car part from another.
Tina checked the battery cables, then shook her head at the metal puzzle under the hood. With her fingers and toes numbed, she left the hood up and climbed back inside the car.
Okay, so she’d given it her best shot. She was no mechanic. And, If someone didn’t come by soon, she was afraid her last moments on earth would be laid out in snow.
CHAPTER TWO
Tina twisted the key and jerked her head around at the loud knock on the window. When she did, her forehead jammed into the window’s glass.
"Ow! Now what?"
With her hand plastered against her forehead, she looked up into a furry hood and masked face. Uneasy, her eyes locked on blue eyes. Big, robin’s egg, blue eyes.
Oh, God! Would this be one of the prison escapees? Now she had more than her car and freezing to death to worry about. Grateful the windows wouldn’t roll down, she reached over and clicked on the door lock. Now wasn’t the time for bravery.
"I’ve got a gun in here buddy." she yelled through the window. She only wished she had a gun. "Who are you?"
"The name’s Hank. Hank Gordon." He cupped his hands and blew a warm breath into them, then nodded toward the cabin at the top of the hill. "I live up there."
Help was one thing, but this tall blue-eyed stranger was another, and he was one hunk of a stranger. "So, you’re the one who left me out in the cold?"
"Hardly. Down at the barn. Guess you didn’t hear me call out." Hank thrust a thumb at the car. "Looks as though she’s stuck for the duration."
"She? Oh, you mean the car."
His eyebrows shot up and it took him a second to reply. "That was my meaning, lady."
"The car slid when I tried to make it up the hill and now it won’t crank. What do you think? I’m sitting here in eyeball freezing weather for the fun of it?"
Tina noted the look on his face, bit down on her bottom lip, and felt bad at her outburst. "Look. I’m sorry. I’m lost, cold, and tired. I don’t usually bite people’s heads off."
"I can think of better places to be than wedged in a snowbank." A sympathetic half-smile turned into one with a sparkle in his eyes. "No problem. Unless you plan on using that gun on me."
It wouldn’t serve her well to tell him she’d lied about the gun. No matter how hard she resisted not staring at the considerable mass of man outside her car, it wasn’t working. God only knew what he had on his mind. Now what would she do? She had nowhere to run.
"Mind if I take a look?" he asked.
Any number of reasons to say forget it crossed Tina’s mind. Still, she could either sit here and freeze, or accept the stranger’s help. She didn’t do cold well. "Okay. Can’t hurt."
"Turn the key so I can hear what’s going on." Hank called from under the hood. "Or what’s not going on."
Tina snapped back to the now situation, turned the key and listened to a soft click. She sighed and turned toward the window.
Then she saw the dog. A big dog. A big dog, for a big man.
"Hey! That your dog? Good grief, look at that slobber. I'll never get that stuff off my car once it freezes. It could damage the paint!"
"Yes, he’s mine, and it’s only spit. Spit washes off and won’t damage the paint if we get it off in time." Hank rubbed Sam’s head. "Down, Sam. What would you have me do? Punish him?" Hank shook his head. "He's a pet."
Tina spread her fingers over the window and tapped where Sam continued to lick in earnest between assaulting her eardrums with his barking.
"Is it necessary he bark at me that way?" she asked, her patience worn thin. "Look. I have enough to contend with without your dog adding to my troubles."
While Hank stared at her, the corners of his mouth turned up. "Maybe he likes you."
"Likes me? He doesn't even know me. Please do something."
"Lady." Hank shook his head. "Fine." He rubbed snow between his hands to soften, then rubbed spit off the car’s door.
Tina’s eyebrows raised, then she squinted through the sun-glared window. "He is your dog."
"Golden Retrievers are loyal and gentle. He wants to make friends with you." Hank thrust his head sideways at Sam. "Come on over here, boy. Leave the lady alone."
"Okay. But unless you take control of your boy, we’ll need to talk."
Hank ran a hand across where Sam had spit again. "That's all we've done for five minutes."
Tina blew through her mouth and watched her breath mix with the cold air and curl upward into a white vapor. "A lot of good it’s done either of us."
Hank placed one hand on the car’s hood, the other on Sam’s head and gave him a gentle pat. "Let me see what I can do with the car." Sam kicked up his heels and danced around Hank’s feet while he worked under the hood.
"Can't tell what’s going on." He fiddled with something underneath the hood. "There. Let’s try it again."
Tina peeked from the windshield through the slit at the bottom of the hood. From the expression on Hank’s face, he wasn’t a happy man. "Try what?"
"Turn the engine over." Exasperated, he leaned his head on the hood's edge. "Try to crank the car. Please."
"Oh! Sorry." Apparently now wasn’t a good time for brain freeze. Since the man was the only warm body she’d seen in hours, and the exasperated look he’d given her, she’d best try to concentrate, hard though as it was. The prison escapees hung in the back of her mind.
Tina tried a couple of times to turn the engine over. But all she heard again was - click, click, click. That, too, faded into the crisp air.
"Okay. Hold up. I think you have a bad battery. The cold may have gotten to it."
"Any suggestions? Would you use your car to jump mine off?"
"Sorry. My battery’s dead too."
"A new car shouldn’t have a bad battery." Tina rolled her eyes and moaned. "So…I'm stuck here?"
"No way out of the tight spot you’re in." Hank squeezed his eyes shut, then opened them. "Okay. Wish I could help you get on your way, but it looks as though I have a guest."
"Excuse me? Guest?" Tina rolled her eyes and shook her head. "You mean stay with you? Not with you and this animal. No way. I won't." She squinted her eyes almost shut. "How do I know for sure you aren’t a prisoner?"
"Lady. Trust me. If I were an escapee, you’d know it by now." Hank’s eyes narrowed. "Don't really see that you have a choice. Not only is it freezing out, but alone, you'd be dead in a matter of hours."
Tina thought about what he’d said, knew it was true, but that didn’t mean she had to like it. "Please. I’ll be all right. Could you call a service truck out right away?"
"Not on your life. No truck driver in his right mind is going to come out in this weather. Folks usually sit tight during snowstorms. Afraid you aren’t going anywhere."
Because being polite was a better choice than being rude, she bit down on her lip to keep from yelling at the man. "So you’re saying you won’t make the call?"
"Lady, you can’t imagine how much I wish the phone lines weren’t down."
She dug inside her coat pocket and flipped the cover open on her cell phone. "No bars. I have no bars." She groaned and dropped her forehead on the steering wheel. "I’m finished."
Of course, that was the precise moment Sam decided to bark a few comments.
"What’s with all this barking? Please, dog, quiet."
"Sam. His name is Sam."
"Well, Sam’s scratching my car. And slobbering. And barking." Tina moved her mirror so it displayed the side of her car. "If there are scratches, I know you don’t want to foot the bill for a paint job."
"He isn’t going to spoil your car. As far as the paint job goes, touch up paint works well. If there’s damage, I’ll take care of it."
"Fine, but please, do something. What a predicament."
Sam hung big sad eyes at Hank, cocked his head at Tina, then wagged his tail.
"Can’t be helped," Hank said, then spoke low and firm. "Down, Sam."
Despite a sudden flash of her mother’s face and her warnings, Tina pushed aside safety rules about strangers and stepped outside the car.
Sam slid his paws down the car door, then licked up and down Tina’s foot and leg.
"Ohhh," she groaned. "He's licking me. Down, dog. You must make him stop. Good grief. All that spit. Do something."
Tina watched as Hank mulled over her words and again wiped off the spit. He stooped to snag the collar and brought Sam by his side.
"Look. We’re both in a tight spot. Nothing we can do to change it." Hank’s head moved from side to side. "Okay. Decision time. I have a fireplace. Something to eat. What do you say?"
"You’re right. Not happy here." Tina squinted at the cabin on the hill, then looked into Hank’s eyes. Never mind his sharp tongue. If he’d been going to attack her, he’d already have made a move. Right now, it didn't look as though she had much choice. Either remain with the car and freeze, or trust the stranger. Weren’t those options over the top?
"Tina." Reluctant, she nodded. "Tina Cole."
"Well, Tina Cole. Time's wasting. Follow me."
It was now or never. She was about to die or get her feet warmed. Tina hesitated, her hand hanging on for dear life, on the car door.
Hank turned to leave, Sam at his heels, then did an abrupt half-circle. "Coming?" Hank’s voice warmed. "Listen, no matter what’s going through your pretty head right now, I’m not going to harm you."
"So you say," she mumbled. He was a pretty good mind reader. But, compliments from a stranger could prove to be deadly. She patted her pocket and gave him a serious look. For what it was worth, the man still thought she was armed.
"What are you doing alone in the mountains? If I might ask."
"Christmas. My sister, Rae has a place here."
"This area’s full of city folks. You couldn’t be in a more beautiful place for the holidays."
"My sister thinks so." Since he’d opened up a little, now seemed a good time to ask a favor. "It’d be great if you could drive me over once you warm yourself."
Hank’s half laugh came from deep inside while he looked at her as though she’d spoken in a foreign language. "I’m afraid not."
"Why not?" Lord, was he going to hold her hostage? Was her earlier instinct about this man wrong? Though he looked honest, she should have known better than to think he was trustworthy. Still…she had intruded on his privacy.
"Remember the phone lines are down and my battery’s dead."
"So what you’re saying is—we're both stuck. Is that it?"
"Looks that way. Couple of days. Maybe. Three or four at the most."
"What?" she all but screamed. "A few days isn’t going to work. My sister's expecting me today."
Hank maneuvered around Tina and stared at her. "I’m sure she’s a big girl."
"And worry. She’ll worry." Tina came to a dead stop. "Won't this be fun?"
"Lady, you don't know what fun would have been had your car stalled anywhere else. You're lucky I’m here this week."
Tina rolled her eyes. "Some luck."
"How'd you get up here? You’re miles from another house."
"You know all these roads look alike. Easy enough to get lost. Besides, I forgot about my map. Wouldn't have done any good though. A few of these roads probably aren’t on there anyway. GPS couldn’t find them either, not when it suggested several turns into one field or another."
When they reached the porch, Hank pounded snow from his boots and gestured toward the steps. "After you."
Her brain froze and wrapped around the thought that at some point, like now, she had no choice but to trust the man.
Tina gazed deep into Hank’s blue eyes, then gave him a long hard look. "Anyone else in there?"
"Look. I keep telling you. You. Are. Safe. With. Me. Okay?"
"Yes, you keep saying that. Doesn’t look like I have much choice. Now, does it?"
"I won’t abandon you to the cold. You’ll freeze." Both hands raised upward, he shook his head. "I’d prefer if you weren’t so stubborn. Camping out on your own wouldn’t be wise."
On my own, is it? Tina pasted on a half-smile. "You haven’t seen stubborn yet."
"Yes. I’ll give you that one. You are stubborn. You are one stubborn woman." Hank cut a look at her. "Weather isn’t too friendly."
She was about to find out soon enough, but asked anyway while she patted her pocket again. "Which is more friendly, you or the weather?"
"Guess that’s for you to decide." Hank held the door and smiled. "Come on in."
CHAPTER THREE
"Careful on the first step-down. Light on the right wall. Watch out for the Christmas tree."
Dimmed from lowered shades and the low burning fireplace, the room had a nostalgic tone. Tina blinked twice to adjust her eyes. "Okay. I see it."
Unfamiliar with the dangers of living with a dog, she hadn’t watched her step, and when she turned to hit the switch…she stumbled.
Over Sam. And into the half decorated Christmas tree.
Tina sprawled forward and yelled out. "Hank!"
Sam barked and whined, dashed away from the tree, tucked his tail and slid under the chair by her leg.
Hank grabbed for Tina’s arm, but missed. Her arms flew out to reduce injury from the fall, knocking the chair over that Sam was under.
She hit the floor.
And Sam. Again.
Her arm shot through the top of the box beside Sam.
Hank scrambled to reach her while she unwound her legs from the garland. "God, Tina. Are you okay?"
Tina’s hand shook when she passed it through her hair. "I’m not sure." She gave her hair a shake and out came an angel wing, while another dangled from her coat.
"Here. Take my hand," Hank said, and pulled a ribbon twisted around both Tina’s and Sam’s leg with the other hand.
Tina grabbed Hank’s hand and stood, shaken from the tumble she’d taken. "That dog’s going to be the death of me."
Hank gave a shaky grin. "You hurt?"
"No, I’m good. Just embarrassed to fall in such an un-lady like manner." Tina waved him aside. "Check on Sam."
"He’s running around. He’s okay, probably scared to death. But, I’ll check him once we make sure you aren’t injured. Be right back." Hank turned and headed to the bathroom. "Remove your jacket."
Since Sam insisted on trailing and whining, Hank took the time to check him over, then grabbed the first-aid kit from the bathroom.
Tina rolled up both sleeves, then pulled aside her skirt and checked for damages. The only apparent damage she found was broken skin on her right arm.
Hank double-checked her arms. "Surface scratch. Need to get the bleeding stopped. You never know if infection might set in. Best if I clean it now."
Tina watched while Hank cleaned her arm with peroxide. "You’re sure you can and want to do this?" she asked.
"Bandage going on as we talk. See?"
"You’re the doc," she said, and grinned.
"Too darn bad Sam was in the wrong place at the wrong time," he said, and handed her the end of the gauze to hold while he ran the scissors through the last section.
"Guess Sam was making sure we were coming in." She thought for a minute. "I’m sure he was cold, too. He’s forgiven and probably as scared as much as I was."
"There. That should do it," Hank said, then fiddled with the latch on the First-Aid Kit.
"Thanks." Tina wrapped her fingers around the bandage, moved toward the fireplace and curled up on the rocker. "Brush up on your bedside manner and you’ll make a great vet one day."
"Yeah? Vet is it?" Hank leaned back, braced his shoulder against the doorframe. "Didn’t expect medical practice or a visitor today."
Even if she’d been blind, she wouldn’t have missed the vibrations coming off his stare—from her head down to her toes.
Hank’s scruffy beard hadn’t hid strong masculine features, nor did it stop her from gawking at the man who’d managed to raise her temper quicker than any man she’d ever met.
His ego compared to the snow-blanketed mountains in which she’d been unfortunate enough to lose her way. Worse yet, the afternoon wasn’t even over, and if her instincts were right, Hank was a man she could lose herself in. She had to get a grip.
The immediate attraction she hadn’t understood, and that caught her off guard. She had no clue what to do with this new-found reaction to the man she’d just met. Maybe chalk it up to curiosity or the chill attached to her brain.
"Look, I get it. I don’t want to be here anymore than obviously you wanted company." Tina had rubbed a hand over the neat bandage, leaned back in the chair and gazed into his robin’s egg blue eyes. Tension rolled from her neck as she massaged her shoulders, and wondered if the darkness in his eyes was from agitation or the morning’s chaos.
Hank closed the First-Aid kit, satisfied the latch was secure, he walked toward her and shrugged. "Things happen. We’ll make the best of the situation."
"If I hadn’t misread the map and my car battery hadn’t died…who knows? I may’ve been long gone from here. A side trip in this forsaken mountain maze certainly wasn’t planned. Must be fate."
Fate. Maybe. There were a lot of if’s. She’d tried to improve on her manners; be more agreeable toward the man who’d rescued her, which was more her style, but that hadn’t happened. Despite being the handsome sort, he’d done nothing but grate her nerves even before she’d crawled from her car.
Hank stared into the fireplace. "Not too sure I believe in fate."
Fate had to have something to do with her losing her way in the middle of the Smoky Mountains. The day was so cold you could see your breath float inches from your face. And Hank had come to her rescue.
Should she admit she believed a higher power than both of them? Not necessarily, fate. "Fate has nothing to do with visible road signs." Tina rolled her eyes. "There are none. Not even crude painted ones."
"Life’s different around here."
"Uh…right." Like she didn’t know where she was. The first thirty minutes had been enough. She’d forgotten her map and relied on the GPS, which hadn’t mapped all the gravel roads. Now, that had thrown her into this mountainous nightmare.
"Now, let’s see about getting in some wood for the night."
"Let’s? You think I’m going to help?"
"If you like warm and cozy."
All she wanted to do was curl up by the fireplace and sleep. "Okay. Not my idea of fun, but I can’t have you accusing me of not doing my share. Guess it’s the least I can do, considering I’ve turned your Christmas upside down."
Hank grinned. "Mostly the tree."
CHAPTER FOUR
"Let’s see if I have this right." An hour after he’d saved her from certain frozen death, Hank introduced her to the axe.
Tina leaned back, gave the stump a once over.
"Think so."
"So, what you’re saying is…," she shook away wood shavings from a shoe, and dislodged a splinter stuck between the strap and her heel. "With this axe, I’m supposed to hit the log and split it in half?"
"Right." Hank smiled, folded his arms over a rock-solid chest, then gestured with a thumb for her to pick up the axe. "The log, not the stump."
Not that she could tell, but she was a guest. So when did hospitality kick in? Tina gritted her teeth. She must have been nuts to agree to help chop wood.
The early-afternoon’s wind blew through her long thin skirt, and Hank’s offer of a pair of his jeans made sense now, but she’d been too stubborn to accept. So the axe wouldn’t cut into the skirt, she pulled it tight between her legs and tied it off as make-shift pants.
She eye-balled the stump again.
Okay. There was no reason to work herself into a stew, since the man’s intention was for her to handle the chore. Alone.
How hard could it be to split a log? If it was Hank’s intention she carry her own weight, she would. Still, what harm would it be to appeal to his sense of macho-man logic once more?
"Shouldn’t you at least cut a log so I can see how it’s done? I’ve never seen an axe up close, much less held one."
Tina chewed on her lower lip, then grinned in spite of the situation when she thought of Rea. Wouldn’t her sister be horrified if she knew where Tina was and what she was up to now?
"Watch." Hank’s jaw muscle twitched as he reached for the axe and cracked it into the log. He twisted the axe from the wood, then leaned back against a tree and watched. "Get a firm grasp on the axe’s handle. It can turn on you."
She frowned and blew back a wisp of hair, blown across her face from the cold winds. "It looks pretty dangerous."
"You insisted on learning. Be careful."
Despite her half-hearted attempt to appeal to Hank’s common sense, he’d refused to back down since she’d insisted on doing her part. Why had she done that? The corner of his lips turned upward as he grimaced at the way she held the axe. Even Tina understood he was on lock-down. No help here.
"Can be. Take your time. Again, Careless will get you injured."
"You’re really ticking me off." Tina narrowed her eyes. Pure and simple, the man had no manners.
"Sorry." He shrugged, but didn’t budge an inch.
"You know…you really have a way with words." Tina shook her hair and bit back a stream of words a sailor would envy. "I’ve enjoyed our conversation so far. What have you said, maybe ten words this afternoon?"
"Didn’t count them," he said, and drilled a blue-eyed gaze at her.
The man was an animal, and as much as she hated to admit, a terrific looking animal. Too bad they hadn’t met under different circumstances they might have hit it off. Maybe.
Hot chocolate and a warm crackling fire awaited her a few miles from here, but it might as well be around the world. She threw a scathing glare at Hank. Which was worse was a toss-up. The bitter cold, or Hank’s demeanor.
Now, here she stood on snow-covered ground with an axe in her hands and little knowledge of its dangers. Of course, she knew about axes and their hazards, but she’d never held one. Using an axe required more than stepping up to the plate.
Tina leaned the axe against the stump. It was so cold her chin shook from the onslaught of freezing wind and from the looks of clouds hovering overhead—the snow wasn’t going to end any time soon. Nothing helped warm her once she’d started to shake. At least, Hank had grabbed her coat from the car before inviting her into the house. He’d held it while she slipped into its warmth, then drug her outside to the woodpile.
"In spite of your good manners at helping me with my coat, don’t you think this axe and wood thing is out of character for you?" She wanted to push the axe into his hands. "You know, be a gentleman?"
"Look. You wanted to do your part, as you put it. To prove yourself. Right?"
"Only after you taunted me. You made a big deal about my not being able to take care of myself."
Hank shook his head and looked at her as though she’d dropped in from another planet. He reached for the axe. "I’ll cut. You stack."
Tina pulled back on the axe handle. "I said I’d help, and I very well will live up to my word."
Hank backed away and snagged a pair of extra fur-lined gloves from his back pocket. "Here, put these on since you insist on being stubborn," he muttered. "You didn’t come prepared for anything."
"Oh? I planned to turn up on your doorstep?"
Thank God for Hank’s extra gloves. "I appreciate the gloves, Hank." Tired, Tina cast a glance at his own gloves and the heavy wool coat. "You know, being polite doesn't scar your masculinity," she snapped. "You do know what polite means?"
Hank opened his mouth, then closed it again. He rolled his neck and grunted. "Guess mountain men are different."
"Mountain men, so I’ve heard, are kinder, more gentle and with manners for heaven’s sake! So where are they?" she gripped the axe handle and glared. "Your manners?"
"Not here. At least by your standards."
Tina clamped her teeth over her bottom lip, then breathed out a sigh and watched the lungful of air turn smoky around her face. Distracted, her gloved hands closed back around the axe handle.
"So tell me. When do you think we’ll be able to get to the other side of the mountain?"
Hank jerked his head toward the snow. "As I said, could be days."
"Still? Days aren’t an option, Hank." Tina’s eyes rounded in horror. "Please tell me you aren’t serious. I simply can’t stay here that long. You have to do something. Anything."
Hank glanced around the snow-covered ground with raised eyebrows. "Don’t think either of us have a choice."
"Oh, but I do." Tina slammed the axe on the ground and turned her frustration on Hank. "Since your phone is out and your car won’t start, what about that horse I heard in the barn? Can’t we take your horse to the cabin?"
"You know nothing of horses, do you?" Hank slid his gaze over the stump and axe, then back to Tina. "Lady, it’s almost ten miles to the other side of the mountain, not to mention it’s five degrees out here. You’d be an icicle before we arrived. Even if the horse wasn’t close to foaling, I wouldn’t think of putting her through a trip in this weather. Not taking her anywhere. Forget it."
Tina thought of being trapped with Hank, with a man who had eyes that blue and a body that redefined the way jeans fit. The man annoyed the heck out of her, but her body seemed to disagree. Darn! Why was he so handsome? Heat spread and warmed from her neck to the top of her head despite gusty winds and snowflakes that settled in her hair.
"You’re serious about us being stuck here then? Together? For however long it takes to get someone out to repair the phone or my car?"
"That’s about it. Take it or leave it. After the storm passes and the road-snow begins to melt, then folks will venture out this way again. Not before." Hank pulled earmuffs attached to his hat down around his ears, then he gestured toward the axe and shot her a grin. "Since you insist on chopping the wood yourself, I wouldn’t take too long if I were you. Frostbite’s a nasty thing."
Tina bit off the temptation to tell Hank where he could stick his axe—and his opinion of her.
He stood there, a smug smile on his face, and watched her.
If Hank had thoughts of her becoming little Miss Country Bumpkin, it wasn’t going to happen. Not by a long shot. But, she’d be darned if she let this man chip away at what staying power she had left. She jerked up the axe, brought it above her head and gave the log a good whack.
With a pop, the slashed log took flight off the stump and landed within a couple of inches of Hank’s leg. He jumped back and yelped.
"Oh, Lord," Tina whispered.
A tic worked his cheek, flickered the skin around his left eye. "Good grief, woman." Slow and sure Hank removed his hat, dragged a hand down his face, then shook his head from side to side. Then he stepped forward, and thrust out his hand. "Give me the darned axe. You’re going to maim one or both of us for life."
In her haste to hand it over, she released too fast. Just as he reached for it, the slick wooden handle slid through Tina’s fingers…and dropped with a heavy thud on top of his boot.
Hank grabbed for the handle, shook his foot and bit down hard on his bottom lip. "Thing is…I-like-my-feet—attached to my legs. Please. Don’t touch the axe again. Ever."
With one swift crack, Hank dug the axe deep inside each log one at a time, while Tina sulked against a pine tree. "The axe fits."
"Umm. Always has."
"Looks better in your hands anyway."
Hank remained quiet, his interest focused on cutting the logs. Once finished, he dug the axe into the cutting stump, then scratched at the scraggly dark beard that covered his chin. "Come over here please and hold out your arms," he said.
Unprepared for what Hank was about to do, Tina walked over and held her arms out from her sides.
"No." He shook his head in exasperation. "Like this." Hank held both of her arms together, straight out in front of her, palms and wrists curved upward. With a crooked smile, he picked up logs from the huge pile and filled her outstretched arms.
"That’s quite enough." Tina’s face tightened as she staggered under the wood’s weight stacked up to her chin. "Show me where you want this stuff."
"Follow me." He threw her a look that would sting a wasp. "I can’t trust you not to harm yourself in a cabin alone." He slid a sideways glimpse at her. "Can’t afford a lawsuit."
"What? Do you know how crazy that sounds? You think I’d sue you?" The man was definitely nuts. "I don't believe you got the message. I’m not staying in your cabin. I don’t even know you."
"Lady." Hank’s shoulders slumped, he cocked his head and drew in a long breath. "I don’t know you either. Besides, it would take a while to warm another cabin in this temperature."
"So you say. I only have your word for that piece of information." Tina blew out a breath and eyed the surrounding cabins. "Come on. How about one of those cabins, close to yours?"
"Down the hill," Hank pointed to the cabin with its path and windows frozen over with a mixture of ice and snow. "Nearest one is past your car." Hank held up his hands, palms face out. "Look, I’ll accommodate you however I can. Be my guest. Is that what you want, to be on your own, to build your own fire, in this weather?"
Tina visualized Hank’s toasty cabin, then squinted at the cabin at the bottom of the hill. She groaned and sized up Hank. "You’d let me, too, wouldn’t you?"
"You may think you want to try going it alone, but weigh the consequences." He turned away, then twisted back around, picked up the axe, and locked it inside the shed. "I have the only tool-shed key, so no funny business with the axe."
"Uh...no need to concern yourself." Tina scrunched her face and frowned. "Oh, I can’t wait to try my hand at chopping wood again." Which is what she’d be doing if she opted for another cabin.
Hank glared down at her shoes. "A decent pair of boots would have been more appropriate."
"My attire is hardly your business."
"Touchy, aren’t we?"
"Neither is my attitude," she snapped.
"Your decision. Take your chances with me, or freeze."
Tina’s mouth formed a frown, then she lowered her chin and stared him down. "Which we’re doing now."
Hank ignored her comment and continued. "There’s linen, but the cabinets are bare. Long hours in a freezing cabin isn’t even my idea of fun." He dropped his head and stared at the woodpile. "Lodgers, when there are any, also take care of their own firewood."
Visions of prison escapees formed. "Okay. I get the picture."
In silence, Hank straightened the top piece of wood lined up in Tina’s arms, then added yet another log to her load. He grinned again and loaded his own arms. "Come nightfall, you’ll be glad you changed your mind."
Hadn’t she gotten herself in a jam? "Pretty sure of yourself, aren’t you?"
A smile crept over Hank’s face. "You’re too cute and tiny to face the cold alone."
Cute was it? No one had ever called her cute. Attractive or gorgeous, but never cute. Where did this humor come from? Tina wanted to smack the incredible grin off his face.
"Looks as though I have no other choice. You win."
"It isn’t a matter of who wins, lady. Simply good common sense in a bad situation."
Her arms trembled from the weight of the logs, and she shivered from the cold that crept into her bones. "Do you plan on us freezing this way?"
"What way?"
Tina rolled her eyes. "You know. Here. Like a statue, a totem pole."
Hank grinned. "Not if I have anything to say about your safety." He nodded toward the cabin and for her to tag along.
With a look of disgust, a grudge in her heart and a bad taste in her mouth, she followed while Hank led the way up the hill to his cabin. She found herself step for step inside his footsteps through the snow. Again.
The cabin’s warmth rushed out to meet them when Hank shouldered open the front door. When she’d decided to chalk him up to having deplorable manners, he’d proven her wrong and held the door while she pushed inside.
The fireplace crackled and popped from intense heat, while the burning wood’s scent filled the room. She couldn’t wait to sink her tired body onto the sofa cushions and warm her half frozen feet. As soon as she got rid of the wood, that is.
Sleep all night. That was the plan. Even if it was in a stranger’s bed.
CHAPTER FIVE
With her arms weighed down by the heavy logs, Tina rushed inside ahead of Hank and trudged toward the fireplace. She turned her head toward the door at a scraping, thump, thump sound. She’d expected Hank to follow close behind, but all she saw was him plugging the open doorway. He’d shouldered open the screen in the process of stamping snow off his boots. He was in no hurry to help.
"Well?"
Hank pivoted his upper body halfway around and threw her an exasperated glare. "Well what?"
What was it with this guy?
"Okay, Hank. What are we doing here?" Tina nodded at the logs cradled in her arms, then glanced toward the fireplace. "If you expect me to stand here forever loaded down with God only knows how many pounds, think again."
It was obvious Hank didn’t view helping her as high priority. Surprise, surprise. Annoyed, she shifted her weight to the other leg, tapped a foot and watched his lazy progress across the floor.
Hank took his time getting to the fireplace to plunk down his own load of logs.
"Chunk it down beside the fireplace," he called out. "I’ll stack it."
Tina’s head popped up at his laid-back remark. "My, aren’t you the gentleman?"
He sauntered back to the door and shook snowflakes from his clothing, shrugged out of his hat and coat, then hung both on the rack beside the door.
"Everyone has an opinion." Hank rubbed at his face, blotchy from the cold.
After knowing Hank only a couple of hours she’d pegged him as an okay guy, despite the sarcastic comments he’d made. Fine. He was no different than most men, always in control of their thoughts and feelings. Whatever those were.
Hank hid his feelings well. Held them tight was more like it. He was playing her and she had no intention of budging, or reacting to his frustration. ‘Course anyone who knew her, agreed she lacked zilch when it came to curbing her responses to rudeness.
The man couldn’t be that hard-nosed. He’d been much kinder while he helped her deal with her lifeless car, despite the ordeal with the axe.
"Doesn’t it occur to you to lend a helping hand? The easiest way to remove the logs is one by one. Save you a lot of work."
"Think so?"
Her shoulders sagged. "Even I can figure that one out. Or do you usually do things the hard way?"
"I do whatever it takes." Hank shrugged and stretched to turn the door lock. In a slow, deliberate pace, he swung around, faced her, then fixed an intense stare while he sauntered across the hardwood floor.
"I’ll just bet you do." Tina smiled inwardly in spite of a nagging frustration at his lack of kindness. "Still waiting over here."
"I see. As I said, you’re a stubborn woman."
Tina twisted her mouth and shrugged. "Depends. Stubborn, persistent, persevering…any of those could prove to be a hearty discussion."
Hank crossed his arms over his chest, while the corners of his mouth curled. "Lady, any discussion with you, or about you, is a lively one."
Tina stared him down. "Then you wouldn’t be interested in going a round or two."
Hank’s baby blues smoldered, while six feet of masculinity ambled toward her, bringing him within inches of her comfort zone. The fireplace crackled, its glowing warmth filled the short distance between them. Hank’s nearness proved the burning logs weren’t the only things that heated up the room.
With Hank that close, the faint aroma of fresh air radiated as Tina inhaled. Not even a hint of cologne for this man. He didn’t need it.
His gaze locked on hers as he began to remove the wood…slow and easy from her arms. One at a time, he lowered the logs to the floor. His magnetic gaze never wavered. The attention hypnotized her. Her breath took a break and her pulse raced faster than a dog chasing a rabbit.
Isn’t this something? Even at her age, the crazy experience was strong and unexpected—something to tuck away for future reference. Tina wrapped her mind around the moment, and held it close.
Her breath caught in her throat. She was in trouble. Man trouble.
"It’s rude to stare," she said. They were in stalemate. To tear away her own stare tested her eye muscles, but she did. Whew! Tina tossed down a deep breath and drew on an old counting trick that helped her focus or un-focus whichever the situation called for. She stared at the pitiful Christmas tree Hank had stood in the corner, now in shambles, after she’d stumbled over Sam and knocked it over. She blew out a slow, easy breath, again, and counted to ten. The least she could do was help put the tree back in order. She may not cook, but she knew a thing or two about decorating.
"And you’re not?" Hank turned away.
Too late. She’d sensed a longing in him. The way his hand gripped the logs, then in a breathtaking moment, lingered close to her chest. The twitch in his cheek, the way his eyes roamed over her face, then rested on her mouth a little too long.
He’d caught her off guard and caught her flush. "What? Me stare?"
More like mesmerized.
"Yes."
Why, when it was apparent they didn’t even like each other? And the sadness. Oh, there was a definite underlying sadness emanating from Hank’s eyes. She’d seen it, felt it mix with her own. Tina understood the hurt, the need to hide the pain. She sensed a deeper level in Hank, an intensity he hid well and unwilling to share.
"I apologize." Hank cleared his throat and pulled the last log from her out-stretched arms. He reached out a hand to dust off her coat, but stopped in mid-air. "You have bits of dust and wood caught on your coat."
Tina shrugged out of her coat, brushed off pieces of debris, then moved a safe distance away. They may not like each other, but there was a definite, yet odd, attraction between them, much to her dismay. Watch it. This is no time to lose your head.
With the fire at her back, Tina clasped her hands behind her and let the warmth sink into her frozen fingers. In her confusion at Hank’s sudden change of heart, she mulled over the innocent, unexpected shared moment.
"So, are you concerned you might do or say something pleasant? Something out of character?" she asked.
A chill skimmed along her spine when his blue eyes turned on her. Smoky, drained of emotion, his face taut.
He stilled, lost in thoughts somewhere faraway. "No," he said.
Hank was all about protecting his masculinity. Why? When in a matter of a few short hours, he was more man than any she’d met, Tina She turned to face the fireplace, then ran her hands up and down her arms.
Is it the fire’s warmth or you, Hank, that’s warming me?
He’d refused to expose his inner feelings, but since she’d caught him in a pensive moment, she took the chance he might open up, even a little.
"Then what? Do you always shut people out?" Had she known him better, she’d have leaned onto his chest to ease his pain. She had no right. He only thought he’d disguised the hurt that was carved not only on the surface, but deep-seated as well.
"It’s not like we’re old friends."
Interested and just curious enough not to let it go, Tina whispered. "What makes you so sad?"
Hank’s rigid face told her there would be no personal discussion. "Let’s get you settled in."
Their conversation was over. Okay, so what did you expect, an exclusive?
They’d met only hours ago. Though there were still unanswered questions, Tina pushed them aside and wondered what sorrow had molded Hank.
She turned her attention to the small room filled with worn, comfy, odds and end furnishings. An oversized blue-corded sofa faced the fireplace. To its left, a green plaid chair and brown ottoman invited her to grab a blanket and curl up. The faded oval braided rug with a beat up rounded coffee table in its center, cried for disposal. An aged lamp with a wooden table attached to the middle of a pole, hovered beside the chair. A bright red coffee mug and a pair of wire-rimmed glasses lay on top of a book with page holders placed at various intervals.
Over the fireplace, a deer head threatened to slide off the wall at one slam of the door, and she imagined a pair of antlers jammed around her head. Spooky. Tina eased away and turned toward the kitchen.
Semi-modern appliances fit the small kitchen nicely, except for what she guessed was the stove. She hadn’t seen one quite like that before. There was even a dishwasher. Surprise, surprise. The scent of burning wood, coffee and isolation fused man and cabin.
The coffee’s aroma tempted her empty stomach, too much to resist. "Would you mind if I pour myself a cup of coffee?"
"Help yourself. Sugar and cream’s in the cabinet above the coffeemaker."
"Black is fine."
Compact, neat and clean, the kitchen was inviting, that is if you were a kitchen person. In the sink, he’d set a single rinsed plate with silverware crisscrossed over it and a coffee cup turned upside down.
At least he was tidy, which said more for him than several of the other men she knew. Most of them hadn’t bothered to even bring their plates from the table into the kitchen, but left it for someone else to babysit. She’d felt like somebody’s caretaker instead of having a dinner date at her home. It wasn’t a guests place to clean up, but manners were another matter. She had no time for slackers and those men didn’t get a return invitation.
Tina leaned against the counter and studied Hank. With one leg leaned against the hearth, he punched down a log that sent sparks flying when he plopped another on the fire. He added another, stood the poker against the blackened edged brick, then slid the fireplace screen into place.
Tina reached inside the cabinet for another mug. "How about you? Like a cup?"
"Sure. Thanks."
Hank shed the red-plaid flannel shirt, revealing clearly defined muscles pushing through a tight fitting turtle-neck. A slow smile pulled at her lips. She almost laughed aloud thinking of her latest ex-boyfriend, Jerry, and how she’d fare if she’d depended on him through a life-threatening situation.
All that mattered now was Jerry no longer controlled her thoughts, her actions, or what kind of salad dressing she used. A sense of relief that she’d decided to move forward without restrictions of manipulation, settled over her.
The week before, he’d refused to spend the holidays at her sister’s God forsaken cabin in the mountains. He'd concocted a lame excuse of a last minute company party that he was expected to attend. Okay, she believed that one.
Jerry wasn't dependable.
Sadly, their relationship wasn’t worth the time or the chase to repair. The poor guy wouldn’t know responsibility if it nicked his ears.
No doubt, had Jerry been along on this trip, she’d have frozen alone in the car. She didn’t want to go there. Hank was protection enough, and for that, she was thankful.
Instead of feeling sorry for herself, she’d left her difficulties behind, looked forward to spending Christmas with her family, but fate had intervened.
"Here you go." Tina sat Hank’s mug down and stared down into a cardboard box filled with books beside the kitchen table. She blew her breath into her cup and watched the steam rise. "You read much?"
"Sometimes."
A desk was positioned near the window for lighting, she supposed, its top hidden under a variety of books and a stack of legal pads. The desk was big, worn and scratched. Tina had an eye for antiques and considered with a little effort, the desk could become a beautiful piece of furniture. In the middle of the desk sat a laptop, and on one end of the desk, a small printer rested on a ream of paper. The paper’s box had to have been used as a footrest, from the way it swayed in the middle. Two stacks of paper about three inches thick lay beside a hole-punch and an empty binder.
Tina eyed a photo on the wall. A big burly man and a pretty, petite woman stood beside a young boy about twelve, maybe thirteen, probably Hank. The boy squatted beside a deer and held its head up by the antlers, a huge smile plastered on his face.
"That you?"
Hank followed her gaze. "Sure is."
So. Hank was a hunter and from the look on his face, a proud hunter.
Her eyes took in the room’s one large window behind the desk, where the winds had piled snowflakes against its panes. She watched the snow glisten and fall gently to the ground, then drew her gaze from the window. She stared at another stack of paper beside the computer, at what she assumed might be a manuscript, and leaned in and made out the title, "Scream All You Want." Out of habit, her hand reached out to flip through the paper.
"Please. Don’t touch the desk or my work."
"Sorry." Her hand jerked back as well as her heart.
What kind of man was Hank? Was he a lunatic, a murderer? She didn’t think so. A man with those kind eyes couldn’t be dangerous. But, was he?
She had no idea what she’d gotten herself into, and certainly couldn’t leave his home without freezing to death. Because the storm had worsened since her arrival, there was little hope of making it a mile down the road, much less the ten or more to her sister’s cabin. Besides, snow now covered all roads and there was no indication of which road led out of the mountain or where a road began, except for the one in front of the cabin.
She was stuck and hated the predicament getting lost had put her in. She prayed she’d be safe.
Vibes from Hank weren’t the ones to worry about. She hoped. Her imagination worked overtime, which wasn’t a good thing since there was no way out of here.
Tina sipped at the coffee and cut her eyes over the top of the cup. "Do you live here year round?"
"No."
So much for stimulating conversation, but Tina wasn’t one to shelve her thoughts.
She accessed the amount of work on and around his desk, a long white envelope was addressed and waiting postage. "Are you a writer?"
Hank glanced at her, shoved a hand in his pocket, then took a long drink of coffee. "I like to think so."
"So what do you do when your computer goes down, like now without power?"
"We’re running on generator power right now. Power goes down all the time." He slid his eyes and nodded toward a corner table. "I have another back-up."
Tina followed the turn of his head toward the table. "Wow! That’s an old typewriter. I have no idea how you find ribbons."
"Yep. They’re outdated and probably won’t be able to locate ribbons much longer, even with my friend’s connection. Computers have taken over."
"Definitely. I have no idea how I’d do my job without one."
"And that would be?"
"College degree says computer analyst, but I’m a lab tech at my hometown’s hospital. Go figure."
"Well, graduates switch. Nothing wrong in that."
"Right. Nothing unusual or wrong, changing in mid-stream. And I still work with computers on the side."
"So." Hank reached to stack up the papers he’d thumbed through and ran a hand over the laptop’s keyboard. "Are you hungry?"
Much as she hated to admit it, she was. All she’d had for breakfast were vitamins, an energy bar and juice, long since gone. "Starving."
"Know how to grill a steak?"
"You want me to cook?" Big mistake. "What do you do when no one else is around? Sandwiches? Soup maybe?"
Hank rolled his tongue under his top lip, then headed to the kitchen without answering. He dug around the freezer and brought out a long white package. "Best I can offer is a deer steak."
"Deer? Deer? You actually eat deer?"
Hank’s eyebrows lifted and a grin spread across his mouth. "If I’m lucky enough to get one."
"Lucky? What you mean is, you kill them. You go out and shoot them." Tina’s eyes nearly slit shut. "On purpose."
"During season, yes."
"That’s horrible."