Saved by the Montana Hero

by Vella Munn

  He didn’t want any responsibilities that extended beyond the hours he spent earning a paycheck. Would Kolina understand and agree if he told her how he felt? He’d surmised she only had herself to think about. They were a couple of free spirits—maybe.

  Given the perfect conditions and, right now, he didn’t see why that couldn’t happen, Kolina and he would put on hiking boots and head up the mountain that dominated the Lake Serene area. Maybe they’d reach the summit but maybe they wouldn’t. If not, they’d spend the night under the stars doing—

  Something splinted his thoughts. He realized he’d seen movement and chided himself for mentally drifting. He waited until it was repeated before opening the door all the way and turning on the flashlight. The illumination glinted off a large, dark dog’s wet chest. The animal’s heavy head swung up and the mutt dropped down as if afraid. It didn’t run. Something, maybe a hamburger bun, dangled from one side of its mouth.

  The dog stared at him and he stared back, animal and human taking their measure of each other. Judging by the mutt’s stance, he had no doubt the hamburger thief would take off if he tried to approach it. The dog probably knew it could escape before the nosy human could catch it. At the same time, it was trying to decide if that was what it wanted to do.

  “He’s skinny.”

  Kolina’s barely audible words behind him startled him. “Yes, he is,” he whispered back.

  “Maybe the poor thing has no way of getting out of the rain. What do you think we should do?”

  His first thought was to tell her the dog wasn’t their concern. They’d contact the staff members charged with security and let them deal with it. But before he could make that suggestion, if he was going to, she placed her hand on his shoulder. As he looked back at her, he had no doubt she wouldn’t understand or forgive him if he did.

  “He might be a biter,” he said.

  The dog still hadn’t moved. He tried to put himself in the mind of a creature that didn’t trust humans but couldn’t. What a sad way to go through life.

  “Poor baby,” Kolina said. “Look at him.”

  Between the warm weight of her hand on his shoulder and her growing impact on the rest of him, he was becoming more and more torn. The dog was already wet. It could wait while he got to know Kolina better.

  While he tried to make sense of what he was feeling.

  “At least he isn’t running away,” she said. “Did he eat what I threw out?”

  Terron aimed the flashlight lower, found only discarded paper and plastic. “Looks like it.”

  “Which means there’s no reason for him to stay. I have to try—”

  “What about your customers?”

  “What customers? They’re almost all gone. I can—”

  The act of pushing past him and sliding through the door made her intent clear. The rain immediately flattened her hair. Almost instantly her resort-supplied top looked as if she’d pulled it out of a washing machine during the soak cycle. Cold as the night was, she’d soon regret not wearing a coat. Wondering if he’d lost points with her for not having already gone after the dog, he kept the light trained on the distance between her and the animal. She inched closer to the still-motionless animal. It didn’t have a collar which meant there was no way she’d be able to haul it inside.

  The dog’s ears flattened even more, and it shook its head as if trying to rid itself of the rain. In contrast, Kolina seemed oblivious to the downpour. She moved a few inches at a time with her right arm outstretched. Because of the sound of rain slamming on the metal roof, he couldn’t be sure but thought she was talking to the mutt. She was right about how thin the animal was. Initially its height and oversized head had made it seem large but there wasn’t enough heft to it. How long had it been on its own, and why?

  Even with Kolina distracting him, Terron tried to imagine himself taking the dog inside somewhere. In the abstract, the idea appealed. He’d place it near a wood stove, and rub it dry with the largest towel he could find. He’d buy the mutt a steak and cut it into pieces so Terron could control how fast it ate. Once the dog’s belly was full, he’d encourage it to curl up on some blankets. He’d sit beside the mutt while it slept.

  Then morning would come and he’d have to feed the dog again. Day after day he’d be responsible. Tied down. Committed.

  Determined not to let his thoughts get the better of him, he focused on Kolina’s progress. Her patience, especially in light of the conditions, impressed him. He was also struck by what a solitary figure she’d become. The dog was there, but no other human was out on this stormy night. She seemed at peace with her surroundings, not at all uncomfortable with her solitude.

  Yep, that was a woman who didn’t need or appreciate a keeper.

  When maybe fifteen feet remained between her and the stray, she got down on her knees in the mud and extended both arms. Did the gesture strain her shoulder? She started knee-walking with her hair a sodden blanket, plastered to her head. He counted every inch of her progress, hoping with everything he had she’d succeed in her crazy mission.

  Fifteen feet became ten, maybe nine. The dog had kept its head down and its ears flat the whole time. Then, as if it had been struck by lightning, it disappeared into the night.

  Kolina remained on the ground with her hands still outstretched. Her disappointment reached Terron, prompting him to shove the flashlight in his back pocket and hurry out to her. His shoes might have splashed mud on her, but in light of where she was kneeling, it didn’t matter.

  “Next time.” He didn’t wait for a response but slid his hands under her armpits and drew her to her feet. “The next time you’ll have food and a rope with you. While it’s eating, you’ll slip the rope around its neck.”

  “But not tonight.”

  “No, not tonight,” he agreed as he put his arm around her and turned them toward the restaurant. She was shivering. He wanted to hurry, but the footing was so slippery he didn’t dare. After all, he was pretty sure only he was paying attention to what they were doing. “Maybe the dog has a shelter somewhere.”

  “Oh, I hope you’re right.”

  “And thanks to you it has food in its belly.”

  “Not it, he. I’ve decided this is a male. Hopefully in time he’ll realize I’m someone he can trust.” Her shivers intensified. “I hate it when an animal’s alone.”

  An animal? What about her?

  “I wouldn’t be surprised if that’s what we sensed at the top of the inner tube run,” she said.

  “That makes sense. And I bet he’s responsible for the tipped over garbage.”

  “Of course. Mystery solved. Not as intriguing as it being a wolf.”

  “Are you nearly done for the night?” he asked once he had her inside. “I’m sure any diners left will take one look at you and take pity. They’ll double your tips.” He patted her shoulder. “On the other hand, they might think you’ve lost your mind.”

  She drew out of his hold and started to run her fingers through her hair. “I’m a mess.” Her lips were blue.

  “Well, I wouldn’t—yeah, you are.”

  “Thanks for the compliment.” She wadded up her shirt hem and tried to wring it out. “I’m not finished. Two tables are still—”

  “Let me worry about them. Do you think you can get into the kitchen and stand near the cookstove on your own?”

  The look she gave him made him wonder if he’d asked something beyond her comprehension. Despite his concern for her, he had to work at not laughing. Her jeans were so caked with mud it was a wonder she could walk. Her tennis shoes might not be salvageable and she’d made almost no progress in ridding her top of water.

  She braced a hand against one of the refrigerators and stared down at her legs. “I probably shouldn’t have knelt.”

  “Do you think?” He again patted her cold, wet shoulder. Wanted to keep his hand there. “I’m serious. Let’s get you into a warmer room. I’ll open the oven door so you can stand in front of it.”

/>   “Oh, no. That’s wasteful.”

  “What’s a bigger waste is the restaurant having a waitress in the hospital with pneumonia. Come on.” He took hold of her forearm and aimed her at the door leading to the kitchen.

  After a momentary hesitation, she walked with him. Shudders still rolled through her. He’d just guided her through the opening when he spotted a wall hook with several outer garments on it. He grabbed a sweatshirt and draped it over his shoulder.

  “All right,” he said after he planted her in front of the cookstove. None of the burners were on, but he felt heat coming from the oven. Right now they had the kitchen to themselves. He could play hero without interruption or long-time commitment. “You have to get out of that shirt.”

  “Oh.” She again took hold of the hem. This time she tried to lift it off her, but it clung to her. He didn’t give himself time to ponder what he was doing, just hauled the dripping garment up and over her head. Because the fabric stuck to her skin and hair, he had to tug more than he wanted to. Darn it, he didn’t want to hurt her.

  When he saw how pale her arms, shoulders, and middle were, he snagged the closest dish towel and started rubbing her bare flesh.

  “All right.” She drew back. “All right. I can do it.”

  “Maybe, maybe not.” He handed her another dish towel. “At least you sound as if you’re coming back to life.”

  She dried her face with the too-small towel then started on her hair. “That feels good.” Her uplifted arms drew his attention, not that it needed encouragement, to how her wet bra hugged her breasts. No surprise, her nipples were hard. “My brain was shutting down out there.”

  “That could be hypothermia settling in. You aren’t going to want to stay in those shoes and jeans.”

  She gave him an uncomprehending stare followed by touching her knees. Then she held up a muddy hand. “I’m sure I look crazy.”

  He laughed, a chuckle that kept growing until he wasn’t sure he could stop. The woman was incredible! A complete mess. She extended her hand toward his face. “Don’t laugh.” She warned. “Believe me, you’ll regret it.”

  He gripped her wrist so she couldn’t make good on her threat. Right now she needed a keeper. Somehow he’d assumed the role. She’d taken him out of himself and made him care for someone else—again.

  “Sorry,” was the best he could come up with.

  “No, you aren’t.”

  They stood toe to toe with the top of her head just reaching his shoulders and her exposed skin starting to turn pink again. She had to be as aware of the sexual nature of what was taking place as he was. Any minute their solitude could end. Stories about what someone had seen would spread and change throughout the resort until even Kolina and he might not be sure of what had actually taken place.

  “Thank you,” she whispered after several long seconds.

  “For what?”

  She jerked her head toward the back of the restaurant. “For caring as much as I do about that poor dog.” She lowered her gaze. “That wasn’t the smartest thing I’ve ever done, but I know what it’s like to be alone.”

  And I know what it’s like need to be alone. “I’m sorry you do.”

  After another longer-than-comfortable silence, she shook her head. “I don’t want to talk about it.” The corners of her mouth turned up, but her eyes didn’t smile. “Especially not dressed the way I am. My customers—”

  “Are my responsibility, remember.” He reluctantly let go of her wrist. “I can’t guarantee there’ll be a tip with me in charge, but it’ll be a memorable experience for them. Did you drive or walk to work?”

  She frowned. “Walk of course.”

  The majority of the resort employees lived like he did in the so-called trailer park but some had drawn a short straw and been granted the luxury of staying in one of a handful of older kitchenettes near the lodge-restaurant. He was glad she’d gotten the short straw.

  “Too bad you don’t have your car,” he said. “The conditions are less than ideal.”

  She seemed to belatedly realize how little she wore from the waist up as she pulled the sweatshirt off his shoulder and drew it over her head. She tried to add some lift to her hair followed by shrugging.

  “Walking in the rain will give me the opportunity to experience what Shadow is,” she said.

  “Shadow?”

  “That’s what I’ve decided to call the dog.” She frowned. “I hope you’re right about him having shelter.”

  “Him?”

  “I don’t want to think of him as an it. He needs more of an identity.”

  “Okay. Look, I’d rather you didn’t go home alone. Just because Shadow didn’t act aggressive doesn’t mean he won’t bite. He might associate you with food. Skinny as he is, he might believe the spoils go to the winner.”

  “No he won’t. You didn’t see the look in his eyes. He—”

  The swinging door that led to the dining room opened, and Robert poked his head in. “What’s going on?” he demanded when he spotted Kolina. “You have a couple of customers waiting.”

  “Not her, me,” Terron said. “She got cold and wet.”

  Robert frowned. “So I see. Do you mind telling me what happened?”

  “Actually…” She responded. “I kind of do.” She placed her hands against the closed oven door and sighed. “Terron? Were you serious about bailing me out? I really should change into something dry. My feet are numb.”

  “One non-trained waiter coming up,” he said instead of pointing out she’d dismissed his concern for her safety where Shadow was concerned.

  Like earlier, her smile didn’t reach her eyes. He both regretted the end to their shared experience and was grateful to be given time to ponder what had happened tonight. There’d been more at play than just the two of them trying to catch a loose dog. In only a few hours Kolina and he had gone from being strangers to—what?

  And was that what something he wanted or could handle?

  Chapter Five

  “One problem is, we haven’t talked about where to put it,” Terron told Kolina two nights later. “If we set it up behind the kitchen, a lot of people will see Shadow. That might not be a good idea. If we take it to the inner tube run, he’d have more privacy, at least until it starts snowing, but one of us will have to go over there on a regular basis to feed him.”

  Kolina heard what Terron was saying but couldn’t concentrate on his every word because she was still trying to take in the dog house that filled most of his pickup’s bed. The house wasn’t a work of art, but she was impressed by what he’d accomplished. The metal roof would be waterproof and Terron had placed a quilt over a thick layer of hay for a bed.

  “You really did it.” She was on one side of the pickup while he stood on the other. The distance between them should give her necessary space for thinking but wasn’t.

  “I knew what you wanted. I suppose I could have waited until we were certain no one would claim Shadow but that isn’t looking likely.”

  “No, it isn’t. I’m sorry I kept calling, but I thought you should know my inquiries and the notice I put up hadn’t accomplished anything. I couldn’t stop worrying about him.”

  “I know you couldn’t.”

  “I was that transparent?”

  “Just a little but that’s all right.”

  She wanted to believe him. “It’s perfect. Did you do it by yourself?”

  “It was a joint effort. I drew a blueprint of what I thought it should look like and showed it to a couple of the carpenters. They approved. Before going to work this morning, I went through the scrap piles for what I figured we’d need. I carried the materials into the new building, and we got started on it during our lunch hour. We finished after work.”

  “I’m impressed.”

  He jerked his head up and down. “Construction’s pretty uncomplicated when there’s no need for building permits, foundation, plumbing, or electricity.”

  He was right. Still, she was surprised,
not just by how quickly the men had put the dog house she’d fantasized about together, but that this was how he’d decided to spend his scant free time. His gesture complicated her already complicated thoughts where he was concerned. Going inner-tubing together was one thing—and a lot of fun. She’d even enjoyed raccoon cleanup and dog stalking with him. She’d appreciated the moments of physical contact even more.

  However, ever since she’d first spotted Shadow she’d thought of Shadow as hers. She’d never had much to call her own and wasn’t sure she wanted to share the dog, not that she’d tell Terron. He wouldn’t understand.

  She ran her hand over the oval opening. “I know where this needs to go, near me.”

  “Then you’re ready to assume responsibility for him?”

  “Yes. Of course.”

  “You don’t have to do that. You could take him to the humane society.”

  “No! They might not—he’s had it rough enough. He doesn’t need any more trauma. I’ll care for him.”

  “You don’t have to justify your decision with me. I know what that’s like.”

  She’d been at her place trying to decide if cottage cheese and grapes qualified as dinner when she’d heard a truck pull up. Vehicles coming in and out happened all the time since most of the kitchenettes were rented to resort visitors. However, it was after nine in the evening, which was late for someone to check in. She knew which vehicles her fellow employee-neighbors drove. This one hadn’t sounded like any of them so she’d looked out her window.

  Instead of waiting for Terron to knock on her door, she’d intercepted him as he was getting out of his cab. Her home might be small, but it was hers. She wasn’t about to let him invade it until and unless she’d figured him out. Even knowing what had brought him here hadn’t changed how she felt about protecting her space. Usually her hang-up didn’t cause a problem, but her relationship with Terron was rapidly getting more and more complicated.