Taking Chances

by Jennifer Lowery

  Chapter 1

  Snowflakes turned into sleet, soaking Nora Ashford through her parka. She trudged through knee high snow toward the log cabin nestled and protected in a bed of pine trees. The beauty lost on her, her mind a million miles away, she patted her leg and called to the black lab jumping and playing in the fresh snow. The dog had shown up, thin and mangy, on her doorstep the day she arrived. She’d surprised herself by allowing the mutt inside. Even more so by picking up a bag of dog food at the grocery store in Dayton.

  She pulled her coat tighter around her shoulders. “Ranger! Come.” The huge dog kicked up a tuft of snow as he bounded toward her. He loved the cold as much as she did. It beat the tropics she and Keith had talked about retiring to. She doubted she’d ever go to a warm climate again.

  Nora pushed those painful thoughts away. She shouldn’t hurt this much after fourteen months. If only time really did heal all wounds.

  God, she missed him. Missed a man’s touch, and sex. And damn it, she missed having him around. For a woman who’d spent her entire life alone, it bothered her she’d given in to the weakness. Never again would she let herself care for a man like she had Keith. Somehow he had broken through her defenses and made her care.

  Wiser now, she wouldn’t make the same mistake.

  Ranger bumped into her leg.

  “Here, mutt,” she muttered, breaking a limb off a tree and throwing it. Ranger barked and bounced after it, his coat dusted with snow. Nora continued on toward the cabin, hearing the sound of an engine in the distance. Glancing up, she blinked through the icy rain to see a small plane circling overhead.

  Flying low, with engine trouble, from the sounds of it. Who would be flying in this weather?

  When the plane came around again, lower this time, sputtering, wings tottering, Nora broke into a run.

  He was going to crash in her meadow.

  ****

  Lucas Stone was a damn good pilot. When he wasn’t losing the battle against a winter storm. Ice had built up on his precious Cessna, increasing the weight and forcing him down until he couldn’t maintain altitude. He’d hoped to out-fly the storm. Zero visibility he could fly in, but he couldn’t keep his baby in the sky if she didn’t want to stay there. He was at her mercy and right now she wanted down.

  He might be able to land in Old Doc Johnson’s snow-covered meadow. It wasn’t nearly long enough. The snow looked light enough to plow through, but if anything was buried in it, he’d be screwed.

  Taking his chances, Lucas prepared to land, adrenaline rushing as he struggled to keep her straight.

  Descending, he braced for impact. This wasn’t going to be the smoothest landing, but it beat the alternative of crashing in the trees. This way he stood a chance of surviving and saving his plane.

  The nose of the plane dropped. The engine died. White-knuckled, he pulled the nose up and engaged the flaps so he didn’t hit nose down. That would mean death for sure. He wasn’t dying today.

  The plane slammed into the ground. Lucas bounced in the air, hit his head on the ceiling, then came back down and sprung up again, this time not enough to hit. Dots danced in front of his eyes.

  Powdered snow sprayed in all directions.

  Metal crunched and scraped ground.

  The tree line grew closer. Momentum pushed the plane along, slowed by the snow. Lucas braced himself for impact as the wing clipped a tree.

  His head slammed against the side window.

  Everything went black.

  ****

  Legs burning, Nora pushed through deep snow.

  Ranger whined, shooting ahead, then stopping to turn back and look at her.

  She broke into a run, her boots pounding down the trail left by the plane. Ranger bounded ahead of her, barking. The door flew open and a man tumbled out, hitting the ground hard and sending up a cloud of snow.

  “Ranger, halt!” she yelled when the dog made a leap for the man lying still in the snow.

  The dog stopped, sat, whined, and looked anxiously at her as she approached.

  The man groaned, rolled into a sitting position and groaned again, holding his ribs.

  Nora stopped a few feet away, every muscle on alert.

  “Well, hell,” he said, looking at his plane, not yet seeing her. “Sorry, baby, didn’t mean to land so rough.”

  Baby? He called this neon blue hunk of twisted metal baby?

  “I’ll have you back together in no time,” the man cajoled, still holding his ribs. “As soon as I figure out exactly where I am.”

  “On private property,” Nora answered.

  The man glanced over his shoulder, his emerald green gaze direct. He glanced at Ranger, then back to her. He was a big man beneath the bulky leather jacket he wore, but that didn’t intimidate her. She had been trained by some of the most intimidating men in the country and she’d learned not to scare easily.

  “I take it I landed on your property?” He glanced around at the damage done to her meadow.

  “I wouldn’t exactly call that a landing.”

  He glanced at her, a grin tilting his sculpted lips. “Under the circumstances I’d say it was damn close.” Blood seeped down the side of his face and his cheek had begun to swell.

  Ranger whined again and Nora sent him a warning look. The dog whined louder and thumped his tail, sending up a cloud of snow.

  “I don’t have a landline or a cell phone,” she said. “But I have four-wheel drive and a snowmobile that’ll get you to a phone and a motel.”

  He looked up at the sky. “Ice storms in Colorado can last for days. Looks like I’m spending the night here. I’m Lucas Stone.”

  Nora’s stomach clenched. “Nora Ashford. I’ll get you to town.”

  With a grunt he rose to his feet, towering over her by at least six inches. He cursed and took rapid, shallow breaths as some of the color drained from his tanned face. “Nice to meet you, Nora. But, before we do that I think we better take care of a little problem.”

  Sleet soaked them by the second. What couldn’t wait until they got back to her cabin? “What problem?”

  He sent her a lopsided grin. “My dislocated shoulder.”

  She’d had her shoulder dislocated during a training exercise once and knew how painful it was to have it relocated. “We can’t do it here,” she said. “Can you walk?”

  He took a couple steps, favoring his ankle. “Yeah, but don’t ask me to run. These bruised ribs hurt like a bitch.”

  “We’re only a quarter mile from my cabin.”

  “I can make it, but I need a few things out of my plane first.”

  “What do you need?” She headed toward the plane, waving off his protest. He was hurt, she wasn’t; it only made sense that she go and get it. Clearly not happy with her going in his place, he relayed to her what he needed.

  “Be careful,” he cautioned as she disappeared inside. “She’s not sitting stable. She might roll on you.”

  She? He treated his plane like a woman. Ridiculous. His concern unsettled her even more. She’d always taken care of herself; she certainly didn’t need the sentiment.

  Making her way through the small plane, she found the black duffle he wanted. She leaned over to grab it. The plane rocked and launched her across the small space. Her head bounced off the wall and she landed in a heap behind the pilot’s seat. Wincing, she pushed the hair out of her face, waiting for the plane to roll again.

  When it didn’t, she grabbed the bag, hustled out, and jumped the few feet to the ground. Lucas leaned against a nearby tree, petting Ranger, who sat at his feet.

  “You okay?” he asked when he saw her.

  She ignored the question. “Up to the house, Ranger.” The dog took off running. “Let’s go.”

  Chapter 2 />
  Pain shot through his ankle, chest, and head with every step he took. Lucas followed closely behind the woman who had come to his rescue. She pushed through the snow with purpose. Long, wavy dark hair flowed down her back beneath her knit cap and gleamed like silk against her bright red parka.

  She intrigued him. Her attitude wasn’t friendly or accommodating. More distant, guarded. Not the kind of woman he was usually attracted to. Since he knew pretty much everyone in Dayton, she must be a tourist.

  By time they reached the A-frame log cabin with floor-to-ceiling windows along the front side, Lucas fought dizziness. The slightest movement sent waves of agony through his shoulder. Stepping through deep snow didn’t help his ankle any.

  “Old Doc Johnson’s place,” he said.

  “I’m renting it.”

  The inside looked better than he expected, given it had sat empty for years. Spacious, with a vaulted ceiling, stone fireplace in the corner, matching furniture and nothing of a personal nature that he could see.

  She set his bag inside the door just as the dog she called Ranger bound in, tracking snow over the wood floors. He disappeared around the corner and began crunching dog food a few seconds later.

  Bracing a hand on the wall, Lucas closed his eyes and waited for a wave of dizziness to pass.

  “Sit down before you fall down,” she said, slipping an arm around his waist and forcing some of his weight on her slender frame. For a woman, she was tall, but he still towered over her.

  Too disoriented to argue, Lucas allowed her to help him to the sofa. Heat from the fire warmed him as he slid down and closed his eyes, trying to draw in a full breath. Each time he tried, pain shot through his side.

  “We have to set that shoulder.”

  Nodding, he leaned forward. “All I need you to do--”

  “I’ve done this before. Do you need something to bite down on?”

  He smiled. Hell no, he didn’t need anything. “Just get it done, darlin’.”

  Something flashed in her eyes. She grabbed his shoulder with one hand and bent his arm at the elbow with the other. In one swift, precise move she relocated his shoulder with a tight pop. The pain made his eyes blur. He rotated his shoulder to find it back in place.

  “Nice job,” he grunted. “Where’d you learn to do that?”

  “Girl Scouts,” she said and motioned toward his foot. “Broken or sprained?”

  Evasive on personal questions, straight to the point with all else. Interesting. “Neither. Just sore.”

  She nodded. “I’ll check those ribs and close that wound on your forehead, then we’ll get you to town.”

  She certainly seemed anxious to get rid of him. Jealous boyfriend or husband returning soon? Not a place he ever wanted to be again. Though, he didn’t see a ring on her finger. Then again, Corinne hadn’t been wearing one either.

  While he removed his jacket, she stripped out of her winter clothes and hung them by the door, disappearing into a room at the opposite end of cabin. He heard a drawer open and close, water running and the soft pad of her footsteps as she returned.

  Her jeans and black turtleneck did nothing to hide her trim, athletic figure. If anything, they were more revealing.

  Those incredible violet eyes met his as she knelt on the floor in front of him and placed a bowl of water and First Aid kit next to her. Her gaze was cool, assessing.

  As she began to clean the cut on his forehead, he studied the dark circles under her eyes, the stress lines around her delicate mouth, the angle of her cheekbones. Her creamy skin made him itch to reach up and see if it felt as soft as it looked. He always liked jasmine.

  With his wound cleaned and bandaged, she moved to his ribs. Confidently and efficiently she prodded them. Every time her hands touched his skin, she frowned. Hell, yeah, he felt it too.

  “No fractures or broken ribs. Just bruising,” she said and quickly moved back.

  He pulled his shirt down and touched the bandage on his temple. “Nice dressing. Where’d you learn your medical skills?”

  She got up and walked to the door. “I told you I was a Girl Scout. I’ll go fire up the Yukon while you get dressed.”

  Girl Scout, his ass. Girl Scouts didn’t learn how to set a dislocated shoulder.

  The door opened and she slipped outside, a gust of cold air blowing through the cabin. No way were they making it down the mountain tonight, not in this blizzard. The storm he’d tried to outrun was here, and only a fool would brave it.

  The door opened and closed with more force than necessary. Nora stood there, soaking wet and looking very unhappy.

  “Looks like you’re spending the night here.”

  ****

  Tomato soup spilled down the front of her shirt. Nora cursed, resisting the urge to slam the tray on the counter. Instead, she carefully set it down and drew in a deep breath. She had to feed her guest. Since she didn’t cook, he was getting soup from a can and a grilled cheese.

  Oh, crap. The sandwiches. She spun around and grabbed the pan off the burner. The scent of burned bread wafted past her nose. Disgusted, she opened the trash and dumped the ruined sandwiches in, then tossed the pan in the sink and opened a window.

  Now what? Wiping soup off her shirt with a dishrag, she glared at the serving tray with spilled soup, a bottle of water and two aspirin. She hadn’t even thought to put a spoon on for the soup. “Definitely the world’s worst hostess,” she muttered.

  “Everything okay in here?” Lucas asked from behind her. “I smell—oh.”

  Nora looked over her shoulder to where he stood in the doorway, favoring his leg, cropped dark hair still damp. He looked like hell, but something inside her tightened anyway, reminding her how long it had been since she’d been with a man.

  Tossing the rag in the sink, she said darkly, “You shouldn’t be up.”

  “I smelled something burning and thought…got any more bread and cheese?”

  “In the fridge.”

  “Why don’t you go change and I’ll whip up a couple more sandwiches. Won’t take but a few minutes.”

  Nora turned around and leaned against the counter. He could barely stand and he wanted to make grilled cheese?

  “No. I’ll do it.”

  The corner of his mouth tilted. “Woman against sandwich, huh?”

  He’s not sexy. He’s not sexy. Nora repeated the mantra as she ordered him out of the kitchen. She would make his dinner, by God, and he was going to eat it.

  This time she stood over the sandwiches and tested them every few seconds to make sure they didn’t burn. And when she flipped them onto a plate, she was pleased to see she’d done it. They were still a little brown, but edible. The soup she reheated and managed not to spill as she carried it into the living room.

  But her efforts were wasted. Lucas had stretched out on the sofa, his stocking feet hanging over the end, sound asleep. One arm rested over his waist, protecting his ribs, the other thrown over his head.

  Wind whipped against the windows as the forecasted snowstorm came in with a vengeance. Ranger lifted his head and thumped his tail when she set the tray on the coffee table. Some watch dog. Instead of guarding her against the stranger in her house, he’d cuddled up next to him. If there had been room on the sofa, she had no doubt Ranger would be up there snoozing right alongside him.

  She walked over to the fireplace and put a couple logs in the dying fire. The cabin heated easily with only the fireplace, just the way she liked it. Staring into the crackling flames, she let her thoughts drift to another time, another place with heat so oppressive it was hard to breathe. Muddy rivers full of deadly snakes and a little wooden fishing boat. A time not so long ago when she’d taken on another identity and lost so much.

  Ranger moved to her side and nudged her arm with his cold, wet nose. Nora dropped down and absently scratched his ears, her thoughts still in Thailand. Rubbing a hand over the side of her neck to ease the tiny ache, she watched the flames turn deep red, with faces bouncing in and
out of them. Faces of those she’d befriended, used, and gotten killed.

  Ranger whined and trotted over to the sofa. A man’s face danced in front of her. Keith. Why couldn’t she let him go? What kept her connected to him? She’d left all that behind fourteen months ago, so why did he continue to haunt her?

  The pain in her neck spread and she rubbed it, soothing away the ache.

  “This for me?”

  Startled out of her thoughts, she blinked and glanced over her shoulder.

  Lucas leaned over, looking at the tray she’d set there. Even in the dim light, she could see the gray pallor to his skin.

  “Hey, you didn’t burn the sandwiches this time.”

  “It’s probably cold now.”

  “I’ll live.”

  He pushed to a sitting position, grunted, gripped the edge of the sofa for a moment, eyes closed, and swayed slightly. “Damn,” he muttered, reaching for the tray.

  While he ate, she tended to the fire, not sure what else to do.

  “This is good,” Lucas said a few minutes later. “Thanks for the aspirin.”

  Nora surged to her feet. “You can have my bed. I only have one bedroom. I’ll take the sofa.”

  “I won’t put you out. I’ve slept on worse.”

  So had she. “You don’t fit on the sofa. I do. I’ll change the bedding.”

  Anxious for something to do, she hurried into her bedroom at the end of the hall and took her time changing the sheets. They were clean, since she usually fell asleep on the sofa watching television, but she would change them anyway. With the bed stripped, changed, and freshly made, she returned to her guest and found him slowly working his way into the kitchen, tray in hand.

  He limped, grimaced with each step and took small, shallow breaths. Nora moved to his side, took the tray from his hand and carried it the rest of the way.

  “Your bed is ready. You should rest.”

  He held onto the edge of the doorway and nodded. “I think you’re right. Are you sure about this?”

  “Yes. Only door on the right is the bedroom.”

  “Then, goodnight.”

  She watched him limp down and across the narrow hallway, closing the bedroom door behind him. Relieved to be alone, she cleaned up the dishes and mess she’d made, then went into the bathroom to change into her pajamas.