Chapter 4 #2
He set the food in front of her and watched as she ate—slowly this time, with more care than the night before. She had good manners, he noticed. The kind of refined eating habits that spoke of upbringing and training.
Who are you? he wondered, not for the first time. Who is looking for you?
She’d said her family would search for her. That meant someone with resources and the connections to mount a rescue operation. Not a frontier settler or a common colonist but someone important. He should ask exactly what kind of trouble he’d invited into his territory by saving her life.
Instead, he watched her eat and said nothing.
“I assume the pass didn’t clear overnight,” she said eventually, breaking the silence. “And there’s no other way out of the mountains?”
He settled into the chair across from her, keeping the width of the table between them. “No.”
“No paths through the valleys? No aerial pickup points, no—”
“No.” He held her gaze, watching her face for signs of the panic that should have been there.
“The pass to the east may be open, but it only leads deeper into the mountains. The valleys are death traps in winter—avalanche territory. And any aircraft that tried to fly in this weather would end up as wreckage.”
“So I’m stuck here.”
“You’re stuck here.” He let the words sit between them, heavy with implication. “Until the pass clears and you’re strong enough to survive the descent. Days, at minimum. Possibly weeks.”
Now that she was more aware than she had been the previous night, he expected tears or demands that he find some way to return her to civilization. Instead, she sighed. Just… sighed. A soft exhalation that held frustration but not despair.
“All right,” she said.
He stared at her. “All right?”
“What else should I say?” She picked up another piece of dried meat, examining it with curious eyes.
“You’ve already told me there’s no communication equipment and no other way off the mountain.
I can either spend the next several days crying about circumstances I can’t change, or I can accept reality and move forward.
” She took a bite, chewed thoughtfully. “Crying seems counterproductive.”
Who the hell is this female?
His beast was practically vibrating with approval. A female who didn’t panic. A female who assessed her situation and adapted instead of falling apart. A female who looked at impossible circumstances and simply… accepted them.
She thinks like one of us, his beast purred, but he shut down that line of thought with brutal speed.
“The cabin is small,” he said, keeping his voice flat. “Space is limited. You’ll need to stay out of my way.”
If the dismissal bothered her, she didn’t show it.
“Of course. I don’t want to be a burden.” She hesitated for a moment. “Is there anything I can do to help? While I’m here, I mean. I’m not particularly skilled at household tasks, but I’m a fast learner, and I’d rather be useful than ornamental.”
Useful rather than ornamental.
The phrase caught him off guard. Most humans he’d encountered—most people he’d encountered—would have been content to sit back and let him handle everything. She was weak, stranded, and dependent on him for survival. No one would fault her for resting and recovering.
But she was offering to work. To pull her weight despite her obvious physical limitations. His beast purred with approval again.
“You’re still recovering,” he said gruffly. “Rest should be your priority.”
“I can rest and be useful. I’m quite good at organizing things, for example And I have steady hands for detailed work.” She glanced around the cabin, taking in the somewhat chaotic arrangement of supplies on his shelves. “I notice your storage system is… eclectic.”
“It works.”
“I’m sure it does.” Her tone was diplomatic, but he caught the faint curve of her lips. Was she teasing him?
No one teased him. Not since he’d left the pack.
“We’ll see,” he said finally, not committing to anything. “Once you can stand without collapsing, we can discuss whether there’s anything suitable for you to do.”
“That sounds reasonable.” She finished the last of the food and sat back, looking at him with those curious, fearless eyes. “Thank you. For the meal. And for…” She gestured vaguely at the cabin, at the fire, at everything he’d done to keep her alive.
“Stop thanking me.”
“When you stop saving my life.”
There it was again—that hint of humor, that lightness that seemed completely at odds with her situation. She should have been terrified or weeping instead of calm and curious and oddly charming.
She’s dangerous, he reminded himself again.
Not because of what she was—a fragile human female who couldn’t even stand on her own—but because of what she made him feel.
His protective instincts surging despite his best efforts to suppress them.
The warmth that spread through his chest when she smiled at him.
The way his beast kept growling mine, mine, mine every time she looked at him without fear.
He’d sworn never to let another female get under his skin.
Never to trust an innocent exterior that might hide a calculating heart.
Never to make himself vulnerable to the kind of betrayal that had nearly destroyed him.
She was everything he should avoid—soft, pretty, and dependent on his protection.
The kind of female who could make a male do stupid things.
I should send her away, he thought. Except he couldn’t. Not until the pass cleared, and the pass wouldn’t clear for days.
And as he watched her settle more comfortably at his table, her expression curious and unguarded, he realized with sinking certainty that he wasn’t sure he wanted her to leave.