Sleeping With Beauty

“Before you turn into Julia Child, tell me how you’re feeling this morning.”

She touched her bruise gingerly. “Hurts a little, but other than that I’m right as rain.”

“Right as rain, huh?”

“Yes. Don’t you think I look better?”

In response, his gaze slid down the length of her. She still wore his baggy sweats, but at that moment it felt as though she wore nothing at all. Strangely, the feeling didn’t fill her with apprehension. Instead, pleasure flowed in her veins, unfamiliar yet wonderful.

She asked him, “Are we going to town today?”

“I don’t think so. Last night I was looking through an old first-aid manual. Said you should be relatively inactive for forty-eight hours. It’s a long way on foot. Too long for you.”

“I could ride,” she suggested.

He shook his head. “I only have the one horse and he’s injured.”

“Tomorrow then?”

“Yeah, tomorrow.”

Dan was a good five feet away, leaning against the wall, tall, fiercely handsome, with a history of pain and suspicion and need behind his eyes. In that moment, all she wanted to do was run to him, fall into his arms, hold him as he held her. Such a strong pull for a man she hardly knew. But it was the truth. Despite his edgy manner of speaking, she liked him, felt a kinship with him. They had both forgotten their pasts—one out of choice, one not.

The air seemed to warm between them, cracking with an alarming jolt of electricity. A muscle jumped in Dan’s jaw. “I’m gonna head outside, chop some more wood. I think it’ll get pretty chilly again tonight.”

Obviously a fire would have to be the only thing keeping them warm tonight. “I’m going to head into the kitchen then, whip up something grand.”

He pushed away from the wall and walked out of the room. “There’s a fire extinguisher by the front door.”

“Very funny.”

No flames licked at the cabin door when Dan returned with the wood, but there sure was a lot of smoke.

Drifting out of the kitchen window was a dark cloud, accompanied by the sound of coughing. Without taking the time to put his shirt back on, Dan dropped the kindling and rushed into the cabin.

Still dressed in his sweats, the woman stood at the stove fanning smoke away from two cast-iron pans.

He was at her side in seconds. “What happened here?”

She glanced over her shoulder at him, frowned. “You’re going to be pleased.”

“What does that mean?”

“You were right.” Shaking her head woefully, she added, “I must not know how to cook.”

She turned and stared up at him with those violet orbs. She looked so pathetic he couldn’t stop himself from chuckling.

“Why are you laughing?” she demanded, turning back and pointing at the pans. “Look at these eggs. Gray as the ashes in the fireplace. And look at this.”

He glanced over her shoulder. Thin black strips of burnt something gaped up at him, still smoking. “What exactly was that?”

“Bacon.”

“Seriously?”

“Of course I’m being serious!”

“Well, it doesn’t look all that bad,” he lied.

“Really?” She turned again to look at him, a shadow of hope crossing her eyes.

“Really.”

“Not so bad you might want to try some?”

That’s what a guy got for being nice. Reminded him of the time Josh, one of his foster brothers had begged him to try a taco at a greasy local restaurant. Josh had just loved the place, could eat there every day. He’d pleaded, made offers of marbles, action figures—for two whole days. The kid could’ve been a top-notch hostage negotiator. But as it was, the other side of the law had offered Josh a better deal.

Anyway, a seven-year-old Dan had gone and been the boy’s taste tester. Dan’s stomach lurched in remembrance. That beef taco had caused him to worship the porcelain god for three whole days.

But that had been old, maybe even contaminated food. What Angel had here was just charred. Hell, if he could survive seventeen hours in a truck with Rank Ron Hunnicutt waiting on a fugitive, this’d be a walk in the park.

He grabbed a fork, scooped up a bit of the goopy, gray eggs and took a taste. Actually, it was a crunch.

He nearly choked on a shell, but covered pretty quickly. Or so he thought.

“Not bad, Angel.”

But she was no fool. Her eyes grew liquid and weary. “I’m sorry. Excuse me. I’m just going to get a breath of fresh air.”

“Angel?”

She didn’t answer him. She was out the door.

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