Let her go,some rational part of his brain insisted.Put her back in the bed and walk away.
Instead, he asked, “Can you walk if I help you?”
“I think so.”
He adjusted his grip, shifting to support her along one side while keeping enough distance to preserve some fraction of propriety. Not that propriety mattered much—she was already wearing nothing but a thin linen shirt, and he’d already seen far more of her than he should have.
Slowly, carefully, he guided her across the cabin to the chair she’d used the night before. She sank onto it with obvious relief, though she kept one hand on the table’s edge for support.
“Thank you.” She looked up at him, and there was that damned gratitude again, that open sincerity that made his beast want to preen. “I seem to be saying that a lot.”
“You need to eat again.” He turned away before she could see how her words affected him, busying himself with the supplies on his shelves. He sliced some dried meat and hard cheese, thenadded a handful of dried berries he’d gathered before the snows came. Not a feast, but enough to rebuild her strength.
He set the food in front of her and watched as she ate—slowly this time, with more care than the night before. She had good manners, he noticed. The kind of refined eating habits that spoke of upbringing and training.
Who are you?he wondered, not for the first time.Who is looking for you?
She’d said her family would search for her. That meant someone with resources and the connections to mount a rescue operation. Not a frontier settler or a common colonist but someone important. He should ask exactly what kind of trouble he’d invited into his territory by saving her life.
Instead, he watched her eat and said nothing.
“I assume the pass didn’t clear overnight,” she said eventually, breaking the silence. “And there’s no other way out of the mountains?”
He settled into the chair across from her, keeping the width of the table between them. “No.”
“No paths through the valleys? No aerial pickup points, no?—”
“No.” He held her gaze, watching her face for signs of the panic that should have been there. “The pass to the east may be open, but it only leads deeper into the mountains. The valleys are death traps in winter—avalanche territory. And any aircraft that tried to fly in this weather would end up as wreckage.”
“So I’m stuck here.”
“You’re stuck here.” He let the words sit between them, heavy with implication. “Until the pass clears and you’re strong enough to survive the descent. Days, at minimum. Possibly weeks.”
Now that she was more aware than she had been the previous night, he expected tears or demands that he find some way to return her to civilization. Instead, she sighed. Just… sighed. A soft exhalation that held frustration but not despair.
“All right,” she said.
He stared at her. “All right?”
“What else should I say?” She picked up another piece of dried meat, examining it with curious eyes. “You’ve already told me there’s no communication equipment and no other way off the mountain. I can either spend the next several days crying about circumstances I can’t change, or I can accept reality and move forward.” She took a bite, chewed thoughtfully. “Crying seems counterproductive.”
Who the hell is this female?
His beast was practically vibrating with approval. A female who didn’t panic. A female who assessed her situation and adapted instead of falling apart. A female who looked at impossible circumstances and simply… accepted them.
She thinks like one of us,his beast purred, but he shut down that line of thought with brutal speed.
“The cabin is small,” he said, keeping his voice flat. “Space is limited. You’ll need to stay out of my way.”
If the dismissal bothered her, she didn’t show it.
“Of course. I don’t want to be a burden.” She hesitated for a moment. “Is there anything I can do to help? While I’m here, I mean. I’m not particularly skilled at household tasks, but I’m a fast learner, and I’d rather be useful than ornamental.”
Useful rather than ornamental.
The phrase caught him off guard. Most humans he’d encountered—most people he’d encountered—would have been content to sit back and let him handle everything. She was weak, stranded, and dependent on him for survival. No one would fault her for resting and recovering.
But she was offering to work. To pull her weight despite her obvious physical limitations. His beast purred with approval again.
