Maybe Dawson sensed her thoughts because he said, “We’ll just button up here and we’ll be fine.”
Probably, he said it for her peace of mind, but his pinched-mouth expression screamed something else.
The man wasworried.
Donald got up, grabbed his bowl and Oliver’s, and headed to the kitchen. Wren followed him, and Oliver got up too.
Caspian sat behind Dawson, staring out into the room, as if surveying traffic. Funny. Oliver walked over to him, patted his head.
The dog didn’t move, although his tail swished the floor.
“What’s really going on?” she asked, her gaze back on Dawson.
He considered her, then sighed. “I can’t understand why the snowmobile vandal would think we’d chase after him in the storm. Unless, of course ... he’d taken you.”
His mouth pinched.
She stared at him, her breath hitching. “Wait ... do you think he’s after me?”
“I don’t know. But if he did figure out a way to grab you, we couldn’t catch him. So ... maybe just stick close.”
To Dawson? To the lodge? Either way, she nodded. And all the Hallmark went out of the room. “How long are we trapped here?”
“Until the storm dies. We can call Moose, have him bring in a chopper—I don’t think he can land a plane on the ice. But even then, we need to get to a radio.”
“They don’t have a radio here?”
He took another sip of coffee, not as alarmed as he should be in her opinion. His hand dropped onto Caspian’s back, fingers inthe dog’s fur, an almost absent move. “I asked. They have a ham, but the antenna went down in a recent storm, and the mountains interfere with the signal. The closest radio is the Bowie Outpost a couple miles away.”
She pushed away her oatmeal, her appetite gone.A couple miles away.
He met her eyes now, his gaze a little intense. She couldn’t look away. “It’ll be okay, Keely. Griffin had guys on watch, and ... well, I made you a promise.” He offered a smile.
A downright lethal combination, as it turned out, because words died in her chest.
She managed to nod. And then somehow a “Why?”
He raised a brow. “Why? Why what?”
She stared at him. “You don’t know anything about me. What if I’m a murderess on the lam?”
He gave her a once-over, and his mouth hitched up on one side. “Are you?”
Too much tease in his eyes for him to be serious. “No.” She swallowed. “But still. Why would you make a promise—”
“Because reasons.” His smile had dimmed, and he looked away.
Oh.
They sat there in silence, conversation humming around them, and now she just stared at her coffee—
“A few years ago, I was in a plane crash too.”
She looked up.
He glanced at her, his mouth tight. “I was bringing my girlfriend to Copper Mountain to meet my dad, and ice took us down. It wasn’t really acrash, just a hard landing, but we couldn’t take off again, so we had to hike out. Took us three days. My cousin Moose carried out the other passenger, a guy named Pike. Caroline was ... not prepared for three days in the bush. None of us were. But she was ... I guess you could call her a city girl. She was from Denver, a skier, and she loved the outdoors, butshe had no idea what she was getting into up here, and she ... she froze.”
“Froze?”
