Cabin Fever Page 7

  She carefully took hers off and went over to Jack. Taking his boots, she went to the door and put both pairs down on the small mat near it.

  "I'll fix us some tea,” she said and hobbled towards the kitchen.

  She stopped when she reached the door and looked back at him. He was leaning back in the chair, his eyes fixed on hers. She could see the tiredness in his face, and how cold he was. She wasn't cold. She was still boiling from the feeling of him touching her, from the way his cheek had grazed hers.

  "I can fix you coffee if you'd prefer?” she said, for some reason not wanting to move from the door while he was looking at her so intensely. She wanted to melt into the doorframe and look right back, savouring his attention. “It's the least I can do for you having to carry me."

  He smiled.

  She melted a little more.

  "Tea sounds good right about now. It's hard work being a pack horse."

  She felt mortified. “Am I that heavy?"

  He laughed at her, really laughed. She'd never heard him do that and it made her instantly realise that he'd been joking with her. She fixed him with a glare and smoothed her cream jumper down. He stopped laughing and smiled, giving her a look that chased away her attempt to be angry with him. She couldn't be angry with him when he looked like that.

  "You're light as a feather,” he said.

  A blush burned through her and she hurried into the kitchen so he didn't see the impact he had on her.

  Jack watched her disappear and then leaned back in his chair and yawned. He told himself that he shouldn't tease her, not when she seemed to be hanging on every word he said. Stretching out, he idly stoked the fire and smiled as it began to warm him through. He thought about all the things that needed to be done. The storm was still raging and he didn't think that they'd get through on the radio. It was bad. He really needed to know where Nick was or he'd never be able to get this job done.

  Still, it had been a long time since he'd felt human like he did right now. Something about Kate made him feel alive. She made everything seem so much better and brighter. She made him feel like he had done all those years ago, before he'd become world weary and dark inside.

  He stared at the door, waiting for her to reappear, and frowned when a few minutes had passed and she still showed no sign of coming back. Getting out of the chair, he walked over to the door and poked his head around it. He smiled to himself as he watched her stirring a pan on the stove. She was cooking something and the smell of it made his stomach growl. He looked at his watch. It was only early afternoon. They'd slept late this morning and walking in the snow had been slow progress. With the storm still raging, it would be getting dark soon.

  "What's for dinner?” he said.

  She jumped and turned, a wooden spoon clutched to her chest.

  "Jesus. Do you have to keep sneaking up on me?” She frowned at first and then it melted away to a smile.

  "Sorry,” he said, grinning.

  Yes, there was definitely something about her that took him back all those years to when he was younger. Back to when he was free of all this.

  He didn't hate his life, but it had dealt him some hard times that he'd found impossible to get over and move on from.

  But Kate made them all disappear.

  He shut those thoughts down, knowing how dangerous they were and reminding himself that this wasn't a vacation. He was here for a job.

  "It's pasta I'm afraid,” she said, an apologetic look in her eyes.

  "Nothing like carbs to keep you going on a cold day.” He walked further into the room and saw that she'd placed the mugs out on the side next to the kettle.

  Picking up the kettle, he checked the water was hot and then filled the mugs. He had to do something. He wanted to be around her, but at the same time, he wanted to keep his distance. It was becoming harder and harder to do, but he had to. It didn't matter that he wanted to be close to her, he couldn't be and that was final.

  She stirred the pasta and then bent over, peering into a cupboard and rifling about. He glanced at her backside and then dragged his eyes away. His heart said that stealing the odd glance wasn't against the law. It wasn't like looking at her was going to make him suddenly act on whatever these feelings were that she stirred in him. He reasoned that he was going to come across as rude and distant if he started avoiding looking at her.

  He furtively looked at her out of the corner of his eye. She bit her lip, teasing it with her teeth, as she stared at the label of a jar she was holding.

  "There's not much choice I'm afraid. We didn't manage to get to town to buy supplies. We just bought junk food, pasta and some sauces.” She put the jar down on the counter and then opened another cupboard and pulled out two bottles of white wine. “There's always this to keep us warm."

  "Looks good,” he said and watched her again as she went back to cooking.

  She rearranged her hair into a ponytail and flicked it over her shoulder. His attention focused on her hands as she stirred the pan in a slow, mesmerising way. Snapping himself out of it, he took the teabags out of the mugs and tossed them into the bin. He went over to Kate and placed her cup down beside her. She looked at him with a broad smile and shining eyes.

  Damn he was lost if she kept doing that.

  Staring down at his own mug of tea, he resisted the temptation to look at her and drink in how beautiful she was when she smiled at him like that. He sipped the drink and tried to think of something to say, anything that would give him something to do so he could take his mind off her for a moment.

  He smiled.

  "So where's this radio?"

  "In the cupboard under the stairs,” she said.

  He put his cup down on the side and went to retrieve the radio. Rounding the dining table, he walked to the cupboard and opened it. The radio was right in front of him. He picked it up and carried it with him back to the kitchen.

  Kate was serving up the food when he entered so he left the radio on the side and helped her carry the plates to the table in the other room.

  It felt strange to be having dinner with her. But it was strange in a good way.

  He felt normal.

  * * * *

  Kate turned the page in her book and surreptitiously looked at Jack. He was trying to get the radio to work, but there was no sign of that happening any time soon. She watched him take the back cover off and roll the batteries.

  He flicked the volume button so the radio was on, and then frowned when nothing happened.

  He sighed, picked up his glass of wine and sipped it.

  "Is it broken?” she said, trying not to panic about the fact that there was no way of contacting the rangers.

  Not unless Jack went down to town alone, and she didn't like the thought of that. She didn't want to be stuck up here alone, and her stomach turned at the idea of him going out into the storm where he could so easily get himself hurt.

  "No use I'm afraid. I think it's had it.” He walked over to the table and placed it down.

  She gave him a sympathetic smile when he turned back around and ran his fingers over his hair. There was such concern in his eyes, as though he thought she'd be angry with him for not being able to get the radio working. There was nothing he could do about it. It looked as though they were going to be up here a while, at least until the snow stopped falling and her ankle was better. Hopefully Connie had told the Rangers that they were stuck up here.

  When he moved back to his seat, she began reading her book again. She sipped her wine, enjoying the way it warmed and relaxed her. It was so peaceful up here when she wasn't thinking about the storm. The fire crackled and popped, and she looked at Jack. He was staring at the fire with a pensive frown, prodding it with the fire-iron.

  He brought his wine to his lips again and emptied his glass. She watched him refill it and then held her glass out, clearing her throat to get his attention. He smiled at her and all the worry and heavy thoughts that had been in his eyes disappeared. Leaning towards him
, she waited until he'd filled her glass to the brim and then gave him a smile.

  They'd only had one glass each and she was beginning to feel a little tipsy.

  She leaned back in her chair and curled up with her book, her eyes still fixed on Jack. He slouched into his armchair and looked straight at her with such intensity that her heart sped a little. What was he thinking when he looked at her like that? She'd give anything to know.

  His gaze lowered to her lap and she realised he was staring at her book.

  "How can you read that?” he said, a smile in his eyes that made him look as though he couldn't quite bring himself to believe that anyone could read romance.

  "It's a perfectly good book.” She raised it and pretended to begin reading again.

  "Can I see it?"

  Her heart thumped against her chest. Was he serious? Did he honestly think she was going to hand over the book? The moment she did, he'd be teasing her all night about it. She clutched it to her chest when he leaned forwards, a sweet smile on his lips. He held his hand out.

  She shook her head.

  "If it's a good story, then you won't mind me seeing it,” he said, voice low and coaxing.

  Damn. He had a point. She fidgeted for a moment, ignoring the way his fingers were motioning for her to hand it over.

  "Okay, okay!” She flung the book at him. It hit him square in the chest and fell into his lap.

  He picked it up and stared at the cover, sipping his wine again. She swallowed hard and then cringed when, to her horror, he slipped his fingers in midway through the book and opened it. His eyes scanned the page. Her cheeks blazed as she waited for the inevitable and took another gulp of wine.

  He stopped, only his lips moving soundlessly as he read. She gritted her teeth and died a little inside when he grinned. She wanted to curl up into a ball and hide. She should've said the book was trashy and she didn't care what he thought. She'd known that saying the book was good was only going to make him more interested in it.

  He frowned, coughed and grinned again, looking as though he was on the verge of laughing.

  "Her milky thighs trembling beneath the feather caress of his fingers. Her pert breasts heaved with excitement. He moved closer, his golden skin brushing delicately against her when he nestled between her thighs. She swept her thumbs over his pebbled nipples, eliciting a moan from him."

  She definitely wanted to die now. She was burning up as the blush covered all of her body.

  He laughed.

  She lunged forwards to grab the book but he held it out of reach above his head.

  "Give it back. Please, Jack. Give it!"

  He stood and handed it to her with a little smile.

  "Are you really looking for a hero like this?” he said, sitting back down.

  She stared at her knees and the book balanced on them.

  "I'll settle for just a hero, not necessarily one like this."

  Jack smiled. He'd probably taken his teasing a little too far but it had got him somewhere. Now he knew that she was single.

  She placed the book down on the floor beside her and then shifted in the seat again. She tucked her feet in beside her and he noticed that she tried hard not to wince.

  Her ankle was probably killing her after the attempted walk down the mountain. It was going to take a few days before it would be healed enough for her to walk for any extended amount of time on it. He glanced at the radio on the table. He needed to know that Nick was still down in town with Kate's sister and friends.

  "How about you?” she said, coming out of her shell again.

  He frowned and then realised that she was asking him whether he was looking for a heroine like you got in books.

  He took another mouthful of his wine and thought about what to say. He didn't know whether he was or not. Looking straight at her, he studied her face as she sat patiently awaiting his answer. He was glad that she wasn't pushing him to say something. He needed time to think. Before he'd come here and met her, he'd been happy with the single life. It had given him time to focus on his job and had made life a little more simple. Now, he wasn't so sure. Did he want to be alone for the rest of his life?

  Did he need love?

  He swallowed and held in the sigh that wanted to escape him as he thought about it all.

  "I'm too busy with work.” He dropped his gaze to his wine glass in an attempt to avoid the questioning look she was giving him.

  "I used to be like that ... busting my ass in a job that gave me little satisfaction. No one notices, you know? Now, since coming here, I've started wondering if I've taken the wrong road somewhere and got lost. This isn't exactly the life I'd imagined. I'd always thought I'd find some guy and fall in love, and live happily ever after.” Her look was so serious that he didn't know what to say in response to her outpouring. She bit her lip and shrugged, as though his attention was making her uncomfortable and she wanted to pretend she hadn't just said what she had.

  "Like in a book?” he said, a smile teasing his lips.

  She laughed and her whole face lit up with it. “Yes ... danger and intrigue, some dashing hero coming to my rescue, and a love that lasts forever. Man, I need to get a life, huh?"

  "Sounds like you already are.” He took another sip of his wine and realised that his glass was almost empty and so was hers. “Shall I open the other one?"

  She nodded and he stood, walking into the kitchen and routing out the other bottle of wine. He got the bottle opener and looked out of the window as he screwed it into the cork. There was no sign of the snow letting up. It couldn't go on much longer though. Kate had mentioned that the rangers had said that the weather would be clear, which meant that they hadn't seen this weather system coming. The metrology office would've easily detected any weather system of magnitude. He gave it another day before it blew itself out.

  Pulling the cork out of the bottle, he discarded it on the side along with the corkscrew and went back into the living area of the cabin.

  He noticed that Kate hadn't dared pick up her book again. It still sat on the floor with the others. Was she really looking for a hero like she'd said she was? He ignored the part of him that asked whether he could be that hero. Things were complicated enough without him allowing his feelings to get involved. He was here to do a job, not fall in love.

  She jumped when he took the now empty glass from her hand.

  "I thought I'd told you to stop sneaking up on me?” she said.

  He gave her an apologetic smile, filled up her glass and handed it back to her.

  Settling back down in his chair opposite her, he tried to think of something else to say. She was smiling to herself and staring at the fire. He wondered what was going on in that head of hers. They hadn't eaten much so he suspected that the wine was starting to take its toll on her. Maybe now would be a good time to get a few answers to questions that had been floating around his head since meeting her.

  "So...” He waited until he had her attention. “Did you used to come up here often?"

  She nodded. “All the time when dad was still around. After that, everything sort of fell apart. I barely see him now. We didn't part on great terms, if you must know. The break up really tore my sisters apart and I was so angry with him ... I'm sorry."

  "You sound like you hate him."

  "No,” she said, shaking her head with a horrified look in her eyes. “Maybe sometimes. I guess I'm still angry with him, and Nick reminds me of that bitch that I'm supposed to call my step-mom and it just makes this feeling worse. I guess I just wish that he and mom were still together."

  "It's only natural. No one likes it when their world falls apart.” He managed to hold her gaze for a few seconds before he looked away, shifting his eyes to the fire. It was getting low again. He leaned across and placed a few more logs on, stoking it and waiting for the flames to rise again before he looked back at Kate.

  She was still staring at him with questioning eyes, as though she was trying to figure out what he'd meant
by his words. He didn't know what he'd meant so there was no chance she'd figure it out. He was just bitter about how things had ended with his last relationship. He wished she'd stabbed him in the back for real.

  "Have you been up here in many storms?” he said, hoping to divert her attention away from his last statement.

  "A few times.” She sipped her wine and pulled a thoughtful face. “Once or twice it was worse than this, but I wasn't alone then."

  "You're not alone now,” he said.

  She went quiet and gave him a look that clearly expressed that she didn't need a reminder of that. The corners of her lips tugged into a smile and her eyes brightened, narrowing ever so slightly and making her beauty hit him like an avalanche.

  He held her gaze, not letting himself look away this time. He knew what she was telling him, could read it in her eyes and her body language. If he had less control of himself, he'd be doing exactly what she was asking him to, but he couldn't, no matter how much he wanted to.

  Knocking back the rest of his wine, he used refilling his glass as an excuse to look away from her.

  His eyes met hers again and suddenly it was impossible to ignore the signals she was sending his way.

  Standing, he walked across to her and looked down, right into her eyes. He stared into them, not caring about the silence between them or how comfortable it felt. She swallowed when he leaned towards her and then looked disappointed when he took her glass and refilled it.

  He couldn't do this.

  Not to himself.

  Not to her.

  * * * *

  Kate stumbled when she bumped into the banister. Jack took hold of her shoulder to steady her. She giggled and mumbled something that he didn't catch. He guided her towards the stairs and hoped she wasn't going to do herself an injury getting up them. There was no way he could carry her. He was in a better condition than she was, but he wasn't sober enough to be picking her up.

  She giggled and leaned backwards, her back hitting his chest. He placed his hands against her shoulders and straightened her up again.

  He'd cut her off and drank the remains of the wine when she'd started slurring. She was a serious lightweight and he was beginning to wish he'd noticed earlier how drunk she'd been getting.