Annette Broadrick – Danger Becomes You (страница 6)

Remembering her recent trek reminded her that Jason waited on the other side of the door. She shivered. It was a toss-up whether she was more afraid of freezing to death or of facing Jason’s wrath.

At least she had clean clothes to put on. She’d grabbed the first things she could find. Now she understood why people wore long johns in the winter. Too bad she didn’t have any. Once she got away from here, it would be the first item on her shopping list.

Jase forced his quivering arms to hold him as he went into the kitchen alcove. This was one time when he was going to break down and take the pain medication he’d been given.

He’d been trained to ignore pain and had elected not to take the meds because they made him feel weird, as if he was floating or half awake. At the moment he welcomed the sensation if it meant getting some relief.

After he swallowed them, Jase made more coffee, giving a silent plea for the electricity to return. He’d bought a top-of-the-line machine that could be programmed to make coffee. At the moment, his shaking hands spilled as much coffee as he managed to put into the campfire pot he’d found when he moved in. The old drip pot was better than nothing and he needed something hot. As did Leslie.

She’d turned off the shower several minutes ago but after that he’d heard nothing. He supposed he would hear some noise if she’d passed out and crashed onto the floor.

By the time the coffee was ready, the pain pills had taken the edge off and he managed to fill two cups and carry them to the table without spilling scalding coffee all over himself.

He heard the bathroom door open but he didn’t look her way. “Have some coffee. It will help you get warm.”

She didn’t reply but he was damned if he was going to beg her to look after herself. She meant nothing to him. Less than nothing. Hell, he’d only known her for less than twenty-four hours.

He sipped on his coffee, keeping his eyes on the swirling snow, until she walked to the table and sat down. He glanced up at her and quickly away. She had a little color in her cheeks now and her lips were pinker.

“Thank you for coming out to help me,” she said.

He lifted one shoulder in acknowledgment.

“You were right. I shouldn’t have gone out there until the snow stopped. It was foolish and you have every right to be angry with me.”

His head snapped up and he stared at her. “I’m not angry at you.”

“You gave a great imitation, then.”

“I was scared out of my wits, Leslie. You were gone much too long. I figured I’d find your body lying somewhere in a snowdrift.”

A corner of her mouth lifted. “I couldn’t get the trunk open. The lock had frozen.”

“Then how did you get your bag?”

“I blew on it for what seemed like forever in hopes it would thaw a little.” Before he could comment, she said, “I know. It was a stupid thing to do.”

“Not if it worked.” He settled back into his chair. Other than feeling as though he’d had several beers in quick succession, he felt fine. He glanced at her again. She looked like a baby chick with her fine hair in tufts around her face and neck. When she lifted her cup she saw him staring at her. She paused with her coffee halfway to her mouth and blinked.

She really was a cute kid. “How old are you?” he asked.

“Twenty-five.”

“Really. I figured you to be in your teens.”

“How old are you?”

“Just turned thirty.” He could tell she was surprised. Probably thought he was some old crippled geezer. “How old did you think I was?”

“I didn’t know. I’m not very good at judging people’s ages.”

“Ah.” He waited, but when she didn’t say anything more, he asked, “What do you do for a living?”

She placed her cup on the table, folded her hands around it and asked, “What difference does it make?”

“None whatsoever. Just making conversation.”

“That’s a change,” she muttered, bringing her cup to her mouth and draining it.

“I realize I haven’t been very friendly since you arrived.”

“Gee. You think?”

He shrugged. “Okay, so I’ve been rude. I apologize. So why don’t we start over?” He held out his hand. “Glad to meet you, Leslie O’Brien. I’m Jason Crenshaw from Texas, and a member of the United States Army.”

She tentatively reached out and took his hand. She was still cold, which was probably the reason electricity seemed to jump between them.

She took a deep breath and pulled her hand away. “I take it you’re on leave of some kind.”

“Medical leave. I’m considering getting out and doing something else. I have no idea what at the moment. Eventually, I’ll be going home.”

He wasn’t looking forward to that visit. His only hope was to have his leg working well enough that he need never tell them that he’d been hurt.

“To Texas?”

He paused, wondering why he was talking about this. And to a stranger, at that. Who knew? If it helped her to be more comfortable around him, then why not? In a few days she’d be on her way to wherever she was going and he’d never see her again.

“Yeah, my folks have a ranch in Central Texas. In fact, it’s been in the Crenshaw family since the 1840s.”

“Wow,” she whispered. “That’s a long time.”

He nodded. “I’m the youngest of four sons.”

“The youngest? I would have thought you were the oldest, the way you act.”

He grinned and she looked at him in amazement.

“What?” he asked.

“That’s the first time I’ve seen you smile. You should do it more often.”

He shook his head ruefully. “Sorry about that. I’ve been here on my own too long, I guess. Nothing much to smile at these past few months.

“As for my brothers, they don’t give me much flak. I went into the service right out of college. I rarely go home. Before this—” he gestured at his leg, “—I was out of the country most of the time. I stay in touch with them by e-mail.”

“I bet they’re worried about you, being hurt and alone up here.”

“Nah. They don’t know where I am or that I’ve been wounded. I plan to keep it that way.” He looked around. “I don’t know about you, but I’m hungry. Do you want some of the stew I made yesterday?” He started to push himself up.

“Please don’t get up. I’ll heat it up for us.”

He watched her walk away from him. She certainly filled out those jeans nicely. These were khaki-colored, not the ones she wore yesterday. Her legs seemed to go on forever.

He knew she could hear him around the corner so he asked, “You haven’t mentioned a husband or anyone who might be worrying about you. Is there someone you want to call on the cell phone?”

She leaned around the corner and looked at him for a long moment. “No. I’m not married and there’s nobody worrying about me.” She disappeared again.

“Oh. Too bad. You’re a fine-looking woman, Leslie O’Brien, a fine-looking woman.”

This time she came around the corner with her hands on her hips. “Have you been drinking?”

“No, ma’am.”

“You’re acting strange.”

“Prob’ly the pills.”

“What pills?”

“For pain.”

She frowned. “They must be fairly strong.”

“Who knows? I never take stuff like that.”

“But you did today.”