Chapter 3

Ionly realize it"s started raining hard when we step onto the main trail. Maybe I shouldn"t be clinging to Barrett like this, but I think having my arms around his neck is helping him to hold me steady. Who am I kidding? He could easily carry three of me.

It feels incredible to be wrapped in his arms. Comforting, of course. It"s a huge relief to think that I won"t be stranded deep in the woods. Yet this prickling heat is… I"m not even sure what. It"s brand new, and feels…special.

I tuck my face into his shoulder when raindrops start falling into my eyes. Barrett doesn"t seem to notice them. His thick eyebrows are kind of like awnings that block the water.

"Next time you"re out, remember to set an alarm for an hour before sunset." His rich voice rumbles in his huge chest, making me smile against the flannel.

"I set one for half an hour before. But I didn"t realize?—"

"The mountain cuts off the light. Everyone forgets that." He looks down at me with what might be a glimmer of a smile in his eyes, but not his lips. "Always lie to yourself about time out here. You"ll need more than you think."

Nodding, I grin. "Good idea. Thanks."

"Your trail markers were smart. It"s how I found you."

I allow myself to feel pleased with myself as he carries me out to the edge of the parking lot, ducking under a maple to shield us. Without any trees to filter the rain out here, the water is pounding down. My car looks like it"s sunk several inches into the mud.

He takes in the battered car, and frowns deeply. "You"re not driving that little toy vehicle on these roads in the rain." He says the word "vehicle" like something is caught in his throat. "Where are you staying? I"ll drive you."

"Oh. Um…" He stares at me until I have to say something. "I"m sleeping in my car this week. It"s not so bad."

There"s a heavy sigh, and he turns toward his huge gray truck. "You"ll stay with me. I have to disinfect your foot."

He says it like it"s a done deal. Like I don"t have any say in the matter. It"s clearly the right thing to do, though. He bundles me into his truck, grabbing a blanket from behind the bench for me.

"What do you need from your car?"

I hand him my keys. "Just the blue duffel bag in the back seat. Thank you."

Barrett grabs my bag, then jumps into his truck. I"m still shivering despite the blanket, and he turns the heat on full blast. Then he freezes, examining my eyes. "Are you… Are you afraid of me?"

I shake my head, my damp bangs pasted to my forehead.

There"s a low grinding sound in his throat. "I can take you into town instead, to the clinic if you like. But my place is closer and I can fix your foot faster. Feed you, too."

"Your place would be great, thank you."

He nods, then pulls out onto the road. The forest is beautiful; the heavy rain is bringing out the deep greens in the low light, and making every leaf and needle glisten. If I weren"t chilled to the bone, I"d open the window to breathe it all in.

We drive for several minutes, and then, out of nowhere, Barrett speaks again. "Mom always says my voice scares people off. Especially women. I sound mean." He glances at me with a strange expression. I can"t be sure, but I think it"s his way of saying that he doesn"t want to frighten me.

"I"m not scared. You"re sweet to take care of me." He snorts. "Well, sweeter than the bear who would have come to take care of me in a few hours?"

He actually chuckles. "Fair enough."

After a while, he turns off the road and the truck strains slightly to make it up the long gravel driveway. Barrett doesn"t seem concerned, though, so I stay quiet until we round a corner.

"Wow," I breathe. "It"s beautiful."

The large wooden house is designed in a classic cabin style, with a massive wraparound porch and huge windows facing the valley.

Barrett"s jaw tightens, his bottom lip twitching with…is it pride?...as he glances at me sideways. "Built it myself," he finally mutters as we pull up in front. He grabs my bags. "Stay put." He takes everything inside, and several lights go on. Then he returns to scoop me into his arms, carrying me straight to the couch.

He slips off my left shoe, then carefully unties the right. His deep, woodsy eyes lock on mine. "I"ll need to take this off to disinfect the cut."

My bottom lip begins to tremble, but I keep my mouth pressed closed, nodding.

"I"ll try to minimize the pain."

I nod again, then gasp as he slips off my shoe and sock at once. A cringing shiver runs through me from the sting.

"Shit," Barrett mutters, scowling down at my bloodied foot. "Looks deep. Don"t move."

As he hurries to the kitchen, I look around the house to distract myself from the pain. The living room, dining area and kitchen is all one big open concept space, done in earth tones and filled with beautiful natural wood. I spy a large herb garden sitting in pots on the dining room windowsill.

Barrett returns with a bowl of hot water and bathes my foot carefully. It hurts, but it"s not torture. Once the blood is washed away, he nods. "Good. Not as deep as I thought."

He meets my eyes. "Your choice, Sage. If you want to walk on this, you should probably get two or three stitches."

A deep shudder runs through me, and it takes all of my strength to hold back a whimper. I can"t even pretend to be brave anymore.

Barrett"s deep eyes soften. "I have medical training. I"m very good. I"m guessing you don"t like "em?"

My head shakes emphatically. "Stitches on the back of my other leg as a kid," I force myself to whisper. "Please… I can"t."

He pats my knee gently, his eyes softening even more. "If you promise to stay off it for a few days, I can do a pressure bandage, and we"ll check it tomorrow."

I think for a minute, appreciating that he"s both taking charge and letting me make my own decisions.

"I don"t want to be a burden." My voice is still hoarse. "If you"d like me to leave tomorrow, maybe you should stitch me up."

His hand gently squeezes my knee, as a slight smile touches his eyes. "You"re interesting, Sage. I wouldn"t mind having you around for a few days. Plus…" He trails off, then chuckles sheepishly. "You know those fancypants meals you enjoy, but it feels stupid to cook them for just one person? If I have company, it"s an excuse to make those."

Grinning, I place my hand over his and squeeze back. "I"ll happily be your excuse to make fancypants meals. I"ve never had a wild mountain man cook for me before, thank you."

He opens a sterile pad, then frowns at the open bottle that smells like an entire hospital. "This"ll sting like hell, sorry."

Before I can think of a clever retort, my mouth falls open in a silent scream as the antiseptic surges over my jagged cut.

"Go ahead and curse. Studies have shown that it actually helps."

I respond with a flurry of breathless, muttered cusses. I probably sound like a nun compared to his idea of cursing, yet even through the searing pain, I still want him to think I"m a nice girl.

"Well done…for a start." He winks, then gently fans the liquid with his hand to speed up the drying process while I stifle a gasp.

His gentleness feels incredible. He"s so close that I can feel his warm breath on my ankle. A shiver runs up my spine as I wonder what it would feel like if he were breathing like that along my throat. Or against my lips. Oh, my…

He taps my big toe, staring at my blue-gray nail polish. "Don"t girls go for pink and red anymore?"

I laugh at his distraction technique. "I was in a cloudy mood, I guess."

Barrett looks up and nods. "Hmmf. I understand those."

His thick fingers move quickly and surprisingly deftly, cleaning the cut and covering it carefully in a sterile bandage. Then he wraps an elastic strip around my entire foot. "That might start to ache in an hour," he says. "Tell me and I"ll loosen it."

"Okay." I grab his hand, making him look straight at me. "Thank you, Barrett. Really."

The slight twinkle in his eyes warms my heart. "You"re welcome. We"ll fix your throat next."

He lifts me so that I"m lying on the couch with my foot propped up on a pillow. Then he heads to the kitchen for a few minutes, returning with a steaming mug that he sets on the coffee table beside me.

Then he pauses. "Damn, I put a splash of whisky in that without thinking. How old are you?"

"Twenty-one."

"Good."

He returns to the kitchen and I watch as he putters around. The space is clearly designed for his size. I would have thought that a man that big would be sort of lumbering, yet his movements are as quick and efficient as when he was bandaging me up.

I sip the hot liquid gratefully. It"s some sort of lemon-herb concoction that tastes odd, but not entirely unpleasant. And it does feel good on my throat.

Barrett starts pulling things out of the fridge, then glances over to me. "You aren"t vegetarian, or have a thousand food allergies?"

"Nope, I"ll eat anything," I smile. "Wait… You"re not about to roast a squirrel or anything weird, right?

He actually smirks. "Fresh out of squirrels. Maybe tomorrow."

I"ve never watched a gorgeous man cook before. It"s actually quite calming. Barrett is clearly not a very chatty guy, and grouchy seems to be his default setting, but a few basic questions are probably okay. "So, um, what do you do out here?"

His head cocks slowly to the side. "You mean for money? I own this big chunk of land, and have some investments. I"ve been very fortunate."

He fills a pot of water, waiting in silence before speaking again. I get the impression he"s not accustomed to talking about himself much.

"Every day there"s a lot to do. Work on the house. The truck. I make furniture in the workshop. Lots of maintenance on a property this size. Clearing dead trees and stuff." He turns to me and raises an eyebrow. "Lucky for you, a few of us take turns checking for cars at the trailhead at sunset."

"Like a volunteer squad?" I grin.

He snorts. "Sure. My younger brother Baz, my buddy Jace, a few other guys that drive by that parking lot on a semi-regular basis…"

"I really do appreciate it." I try to flash him my most winning smile. I"m desperate for this guy to like me. Not just because I"m apparently staying here for a bit. I feel drawn to him in a way I"ve never experienced before.

"Am I going to need to call a tow truck to get my car out?" My voice is a bit stronger already.

He shrugs, chopping something as quickly and methodically as if he were a professional chef. "Depends on how hard it rains overnight. I"ll call Griffin the towing guy if my truck isn"t up to it. No stress."

I"m not sure what else to ask him, so I sip my drink quietly and watch Barrett cook. He"s a strange man. Super quiet, but he obviously has a good heart if he keeps an eye out for hapless hikers, and takes in a little stray like me.

I realize that on some level I should be nervous about staying with a complete stranger. But for some reason, I"m not. I can already tell that Barrett is a good man through and through. He"s just a grump who"s had too many cloudy moods.

As the rain pours down outside, pattering against the roof and a huge front window, I make up my mind. I"m going to find a way to be his little ray of sunshine, and see if he"ll let me into his world.

At least…for a day or two.