I breathe out. “At least he’s not a bear. Thank you. I’m Georgia, by the way.”
“Declan Connor. And I know who you are.” He’s staring at me steadily, despite the bright sunshine.
Maybe I should be cautious. What is he doing out here at my cabin anyway? “You do?”
“Saw you in the hardware place. That fool who sold you the bear repellent is going to give you your money back. He’s a weasel.”
I stare down at him. “You came up here to tell me that? How do I know I can trust you?”
“You can always trust a man with a tame racoon on his shoulder, ma’am. Rule number one of these mountains.”
Despite myself, my lips quirk upwards into a grin. There’s something about the confident way he’s gazing up at me, legs spread wide and hands on hips that feels right. Dependable, almost, even if he’s a little wild-looking with that big beard.
“Have you hurt yourself?” Declan frowns.
“A little. I cut my hand trying not to fall off the roof.” He must think I’m an idiot.
“Shimmy down here and let me take a look.” He crouches down and the racoon jumps off his shoulder and runs toward his truck.
I scoot my butt down, holding my hand against my chest. “Did you say your last name was Connor? My aunt mentioned she gets her firewood from someone called Connor.”
He nods, walking up to the porch. “That’ll be Callan, my cousin. There’s a bunch of us up here. You could say the woods are full of Connors. Is this your aunt’s place?”
I shake my head. “No, it’s mine. My aunt told me about it and it was in my price range. It’s more decrepit than it looked from the realtor photos, though.”
When I reach the edge of the roof, I panic a little. I can’t see the ledge on the post that I used to get up here. And now my hand’s injured, I’m going to have to get down one-handed. My stomach lurches.
“It’s okay, honey. Dangle your legs over the side and jump. I’ll catch you.”
“No way. I’m too heavy.”
“I promise I’ll catch you. My nickname in the army was SureShot. Never missed a target or dropped precious cargo when the stakes are high.”
I laugh, my stomach fluttering. My hand is throbbing and I’m a little faint. I can’t stay up here. My legs dangle off the edge.
“Are you ready, Declan?” I squeeze my eyes shut. Maybe it’s better if I don’t look.
“Always.”
For a second, I’m falling through the air before his big, strong arms catch me effortlessly. Up close, his scent is a mix of leather and fresh fir trees, mixed with clean sweat. It’s a heady, intensely masculine smell and it makes my core clench involuntarily. The big woodsman is holding onto me, his hands around my waist, as he gently sets me down on the ground. His eyes are bright blue, twinkling in the sunlight.
Declan gently takes my injured hand. “Let me take a look.”
I wince as he opens my palm. Blood drips down my fingers and he shakes his head.
“You got a first aid kit in that cabin?” His eyes are piercing.
“No, I was going to–”
“I’m driving you to my place and patching that up.”
“No, it’s okay. I can–”
“You right-handed, honey?”
I nod.
“Very tricky for you to treat the wound on your dominant hand with your left. Especially with no first aid supplies. I want to flush it, who knows what crap is up there on that roof. In the meantime, let’s wrap it up to stop the bleeding.”
