Mack muttered a curse and hurried after her. A small hut came into view. “It’s a toolshed,” he said. “No one lives here.”
She pushed through the crooked door and turned in a tight circle. “Itisdepressingly small.”
“It’s dry and out of the wind, which is the most important. We’ll take shelter until the storm passes.”
He set their bags on the floor and shoved the door closed. The tiny window on one wall was splattered with raindrops, but at least they weren’t plunged into darkness.
“Only for a f-few minutes.”
“Until it stops, which doesn’t look like it will be anytime soon.” Mack turned to find Winnie hugging herself, jaw trembling with chills. “In the meantime, you need dry clothing.”
“D-don’t have any.”
“Then you’ll wear mine.”
She slowly swiveled toward him. “I b-beg your pardon?”
A sudden image of Winnie wearing nothing but his shirt made his stomach muscles clench. He pictured her pale legs, her dimpled knees winking at him, and his mouth watered. “You need to get warm.”
“I’ll be f-fine.”
“Don’t be daft. If you get sick, we’ll have to go back to Seattle and you’ll miss the event.”
“IfI get sick, it won’t be right away. That g-gives me at least twenty-four hours to get as much information as I c-can.”
Heat surged in his veins and he spoke through gritted teeth. “Enoughwith this senseless stubbornness. Either take off your clothes, or I’ll do it for you.”
Her gasp almost bowed her in half, but he was not sympathetic. He opened his valise, withdrew his spare shirt, and shoved it into her arms.
“Don’t you have pajamas I c-could wear? At least they would c-cover me up.”
“I don’t.”
“You don’t have…why on earth not?” He raised his eyebrows and gave her a pointed look. Her face flamed. “D-don’t answer that. What about pants?”
“Sorry, no.” But he didn’t feel sorry in the least, not even when her nostrils flared. “I keep spare clothing at my aunt’s house. Makes it easier to travel back and forth.”
“Oh.”
“Take off anything wet and put that on. You have five minutes while I brave the elements.”
Before she could argue further, he ducked outside. He waited until the frantic rustling of clothing—and angry muttering—began, and then leaned against the shed wall, pulled his hat brim low, and slowly counted to one hundred. When he finished, he was still wound up like a tightly coiled spring, but at least he wasn’t tempted to yell anymore.
The door creaked open. “You can come in now.”
Mack ducked inside, and a quick glance around the dimly lit shed revealed Winnie huddled to one side, her body a smudge in the shadows. “I know this isn’t ideal,” he said, removing his hat and coat. “But it’s the smartest thing for us to do right now.”
“I know,” she grumbled. “This just isn’t how I imagined my first suffrage event would go.”
“What did you expect?”
“A lot more women, for starters.”
His lips quirked and he started on the buttons of his vest. “And yet you’re stuck with your insufferable, male editor.”
“I’m not going to pretend this is what I wanted, but—wait, what are you doing?”
“Stripping down.”
