“Trapper…” he said between chattering teeth. “Got…lost.” He didn’t know if she would believe him or not, but he hoped so. His life might very well depend on it.
However, she said nothing,butled him over to a chair by the fire. He removed his heavy pack from his shoulder and dropped it to the floor and collapsed onto the wood, hearing it creak beneath his weight. The womangathered a blanket and tucked it around his chest. She had just finished when there was a slight scratch at the door, followed by a decided whimper. She hastily walked over and opened the door long enough for the brown-haired hound to enter. The dog instantly wandered over to his master andsat down, laying his head on his knee. He looked up at Chaunceywith those large, brown eyes that had first drawn him to the hound that hadbeen abandoned on a street somewhere in Oklahoma.
Beau had been his source ofsanityever since.
He reached out a shaky hand and scratched the dog behind the ear. “Hi…boy…”
The dog answered with another whimper as he licked his hand.
Chauncey laid his head back against the chair and willed the arctic hold that had permeated his body to go away.
He must have drifted off, for he woke up sometime later to the crackle of the fire. He glanced down at his boots and saw that there was no longer a puddle beneath his feet. He’d felt bad for making a mess in this woman’s cabin, but he’d been too frozen to do much about it at the time.
He tested the movement in his right hand and tried to bend and straighten his fingers. After a bit of protest, they obeyed the command until he was comfortable enough to take off his buckskin gloves and see what damage there might be. He didn’t think he’d been out in the wild long enough for frostbite to kick in, but in a ravishing storm like this one, it didn’t take long for extremities to fall prey to the dreaded fate.
He breathed a sigh of relief to see that all five fingers were accounted for, with none of the black shading that followed too much exposure to the cold. A quick checkofhis left hand showed the same, so he wiggled his toes in his boots, and other than a slight sting, they appeared to be in working order as well.
As his other senses slowly began to return to him, he glanced about the simple cabin and wonderedabout the woman who lived here, if she was, in fact, real, or just a figment of his imagination.
He caught the sound of dishes rattling and he turned his head to see a curvaceous outline outfitted ingreen, a long alabaster braid trailing down her back. For a moment, all he could do was stare as she continued her task, his gaze threatening to glance lower, but then respect for her modesty compelled him to turn away. He might be a bastard in many respects, but when it came to a lady, he knew where to draw the boundary line.
However, she must have heard him shuffle in his seat, for she glanced over her shoulder. And froze.
***
Elise lowered the dish in her hand as she was confronted with a heart-stopping, dark stare. When the stranger had first arrived, he’d kept his head lowered so that the only thing she could see was that terrifying bear fur that he had draped over himself.
But now that she had her first good glimpse of him, she couldn’t help buttake in every bit of him that she could.The first thing she noticed was that he was positively…handsome. She knew such thoughts were wrong,and if her mother were here she would scold her for such lascivious imaginings,but he was like no other man she’d ever met before. Rugged, with ablackbeard and hair, she could tell that he wastall andmuscular and broad of shoulder. For the short time she’d had her arms around him she’d been able to deduce that much.
He was sturdy, like the lumberjacks she had met in the village mill, but none of them had ever looked at her with such…intensity.
Forcing herself to glance away, she wiped her hands on a towel to keep her shaking hands occupied and said, “Would you like something to eat? I have leftover stew and freshly baked bread.”
While his voice was still husky, he sounded much stronger than when he’d arrived. “I would be much obliged. Thank you.”
Elise set about gathering the appropriate dishes and scooped out some of the stew still hanging over the fire. It came out steaming and after she set out the butter and sliced some bread for him, she poured a glass of milk and placed it on the table next to some silverware. And then sat back and waited.
A slight smile curved his mouth and he unfolded his large form from the chair. He laid the blanket that she’d placedover him along the back and lumbered over to the table. She tensed as he drew near, but he didn’t even look at her again until he’d sat down and picked up his spoon. He didn’t immediately take a bite, but leaned over the steaming fare and inhaled deeply.
Elise tilted her head curiously, but then decided it must have been a while since he’d had any sort of home cooking. This instantly put her on alert, for there were lots of deserters from the war heading out west in the hopes of starting a new life. It was no secret that many hid in the dense forests to escape themercenariesthat were hired to track them down for abandoning their post. To harbor one of these fugitives was punishable by death. She certainly didn’t need that sort of trouble.
“What’s your name?” While she didn’t believe that he would actually tell her the truth, at least she would have something to tell the authorities should they come searching for him. Either way, come morning, she intended to send him packing.
He stopped and glanced at her. “Chauncey Cade.” With that, he returned to consuming his stew. She said nothing more as he finished, just observed him quietly until he put his spoon in the empty bowl. “It’s been a long time since I’ve had something that good. Your husband is a lucky man, Mrs.—?”
She debated on whether or not to tell him anything about herself, but good old-fashioned manners won out over her reservations. “It’s Miss Elise Erindelle.”
He frowned. “You live out here…all alone?”
“I do.” Elise stood and reached for his bowl, taking it over to the pan to soak with the rest of the dishes she had yet to finish. She grabbed her rag and began to scrub, unsure why she was suddenly feeling restless. Perhaps it was the growing fears that should he decide to overpower her, she knew that was one battle she wouldn’t win.
She glanced toward the cabinet where she kept her flintlock rifle, but since she didn’t keep it loaded, it wouldn’t do her much good should she have need of it.
Instead of allowing her anxiety to show, she forced herself to keep her calm as she finished the dishes. When she gathered her courage to face Mr. Cade once again, he was still seated at the table, although he was casually scratching the hound’s ears and murmuring in a soothing voice. She couldn’t tell what he said, but she found she liked hearing that deep rumble.
She cleared her throat, and he glanced up. “I’ll heat some water so you can wash up if you’d like.” She gestured toward the modest sofa. “You’re welcome to spend the night there, but come morning,I’m afraidthat’s where my hospitality ends.”She smiled stiffly. “I’m sure you understand that it isn’t seemly for a lady to be alone with a man who isn’t her husband.”
He nodded. “Of course, ma’am. I’m thankful for the lodgings.” Hegot tohis feet and his presence overwhelmed her in her small cabin.
