- -
- 100%
- +
The dog sank down on his haunches and whined pitifully, not wanting to go back inside. Luke closed the door, then walked back to the dog and reached down to scratch its ears. “Don’t blame you,” he murmured softly. “I get pretty damn lonesome myself.”
Rising, he slapped his hand against his thigh again. “Come on,” he said, letting the dog know it was okay to follow him outside. “You can bunk with me tonight.”
Once outside, Luke paused to look up at the sky. “Looks like we might get us some rain tonight,” he said, then glanced over to see if the dog was listening and grinned when he saw that its ears were perked up. “Good sleepin’ weather, right?”
In response, the dog let out a yip and darted for the bunkhouse. Laughing, Luke watched the dog run. Though he still favored his right rear leg, he was clearly on the mend. Pleased with the animal’s progress, Luke stuck his hands in his pockets and continued to follow, wondering what Monty would say when he learned that Luke had invited the dog to spend the night with them.
As he neared the bunkhouse, a clap of thunder sounded in the distance and the wind picked up, scattering dead leaves across the path. He lifted his head to look at the sky again, and saw that dark clouds were roiling in from the north.
“Not just some rain,” he amended, frowning at the boiling sky. “Looks like we’re in for a real frog strangler.”
He’d no sooner made the comment, than his thoughts segued to Lauren and the tin yet to be replaced on the roof of the lodge. A blowing rain would test the soundness of a good roof. No telling what kind of damage it would do to one as old as the one on the lodge. And if it hailed…well, she might as well kiss that roof goodbye, ’cause he seriously doubted that old tin could withstand the beating hail would give it.
What was worse, she was bound to lose her electrical power. Rural service usually went down in a bad storm and was slow to return after the weather passed over. He doubted there was a generator at the lodge or that Lauren would know how to run it if there was one.
He started toward his truck, intending to drive to the lodge and make sure she and the old woman were all right, but stopped just shy of reaching it. He couldn’t go chasing over there to check on her, he told himself. She was a grown woman and capable of taking care of herself. She didn’t need him fussin’ over her, and doubted she’d appreciate him droppin’ by uninvited.
But if something were to happen to her, then what? The woman was a greenhorn when it came to country life. She wouldn’t know how to prepare for a storm and probably didn’t have the supplies on hand to ride one out.
Firming his mouth, he strode to his truck. As he started to climb in, a bark stopped him. He looked over his shoulder and saw that the dog had followed. He glanced at the barn, weighing the time it would take to return the dog to the feed room. Sighing, he scooped up the dog and plunked him down on the passenger seat. The dog sat up, tongue lolling, and looked out the windshield.
Halfway to Lauren’s, it started sprinkling. By the time Luke pulled up in front of the lodge, the rain was coming down so hard, he couldn’t see two feet in front of the truck. He pulled a slicker from the back seat, shrugged it on, then yanked his hat down farther over his brow and opened his door. Before he could react, the dog leaped out of the truck. Within seconds his coat was plastered to his hide, making him look like an overgrown drowned rat.
As Luke clomped his way around back through the puddles already forming on the ground, he noticed that Lauren’s car was gone. She’d probably hightailed it for town the minute she’d seen the storm clouds building, he thought. A good thing, in his estimation. Her absence also proved that she was a greenhorn. A person who couldn’t handle a little rain had no business living in this neck of the woods and so far from civilization.
Among the building supplies stacked on the back porch, he found several rolls of plastic. Tucking one under his arm, he grabbed the ladder, carried it out into the rain and braced it against the edge of the roof.
“Stay,” he instructed the dog, then climbed up the ladder, keeping his head down to protect his face from the stinging bullets of rain. He made quick work of rolling out the plastic and securing it with logs he borrowed from the firewood rack. By the time he reached the ground for the last time, he was soaked to the skin and winded.
Confident that the plastic would protect the lodge’s interior from water damage, he glanced toward the cabin where he knew Lauren stayed. Set five hundred or more feet from the rear of the lodge, it, too, was surrounded by trees. He could hear the screech of metal as the wind pushed the limbs across the cabin’s tin roof. He wavered, wondering if he should put plastic on that roof, as well. With a sigh of resignation, he gathered up another roll of plastic and the ladder.
“Stay,” he said to the dog again, who was standing under the lodge’s back porch, watching him expectantly. The dog looked from him to the rain and sank down on its haunches.
Smart dog, Luke thought, as he made his way to the cabin.
He was halfway across the cabin’s roof, when he heard a commotion below. Wondering what was going on, he slid to the edge of the roof and peered down. Lauren stood in front of the cabin, wearing a yellow raincoat and looking up at him from beneath its hood.
“What do you think you’re doing?” she shouted, to be heard over the pounding rain.
“Puttin’ plastic over the roof,” he yelled back. “Almost done.”
“You might have asked first.”
“Didn’t know you were here. Car’s gone.”
“Rhena went to town for groceries.”
Damn fool woman, he thought, and shifted to start down the ladder. “I better go and look for her,” he said. “Roads flood when we get this much rain in such a short time.”
“That’s not necessary,” she called back, stopping him. “She called earlier. Said she’s staying in town with Maude until the storm is over.”
Knowing Maude, Luke thought, Rhena probably didn’t have much say in the matter. The owner of the local grocery store and the biggest gossip in town, Maude bossed everybody around, no matter what their age.
With a sigh he stepped onto the roof again. “Get back inside and out of the rain,” he ordered.
“You can’t tell me what to do!”
He paused, sure that he’d misunderstood, then moved back to the edge of the roof and saw that she was still standing in the rain, glaring up at him, her hands fisted on her hips. “Then stand there and drown,” he told her. “Makes me no nevermind.”
Muttering curses under his breath, he picked up a log, dropped it over the plastic to secure it, then tugged the sheet, walking backward, to spread it out more. He was bending to pick up another log, when he caught a flash of movement out of the corner of his eye. Lauren had grabbed the plastic roll and was slip-sliding her way across the roof, dragging it behind her.
Stubborn woman, he thought irritably. She was going to slip on the slick tin and fall and break her neck…if lightning didn’t strike her first.
Well, if she did fall, that was her problem, he told himself, and continued to lay out plastic. She obviously didn’t have the good sense God gave a goose.
Amazingly, they finished laying out the plastic without incident, then Luke followed Lauren down the ladder to the ground. Rain was streaming down his face and dripping off his chin as he folded the ladder, preparing to leave.
Her stance resentful, Lauren watched him, her arms hugging her waist. “You can add a couple of hours to your time sheet.”
He dragged a hand down his face, sluicing off water, before lifting the ladder to his shoulder. “I didn’t do it for the pay.”
“Oh. Well,” she said, obviously flustered. She frowned a moment, then gestured toward the cabin. “The least I can do is offer you a towel to dry off with.”
“Thanks, but I better go. I’ve got—”
Before he could explain that he had the dog with him, the animal in question came bounding toward them on his three good legs, barking like a maniac.
At the sound, Lauren whirled. Her eyes went wide when she recognized the dog, and she dropped to her knees and opened her arms. The dog leaped up, planting its front paws on her shoulders and licking her face.
Laughing, she tried to dodge his exuberant greeting. “Just look at you!” she cried. “If I didn’t know better, I’d never believe you were almost a greasy spot on the road.”
Luke eased closer, surprised by her obvious delight in seeing the dog. “Another week or so and he’ll lose the limp.”
She glanced up at him, her face wreathed in a smile. “That vet you took him to must be one talented guy.”
Luke dropped his gaze. “Uh…I never took him to the vet.”
She looked at him curiously. “But I thought you said he required stitches?”
“Thirty-two in all.”
“If a vet didn’t stitch him up, who did?”
“Me.”
“You?”
He scowled at the doubt in her voice. “I’ve worked around animals most of my life. He isn’t the first one I’ve patched up.”
Before she could reply, the first flash of lightning ripped the sky, followed by a deafening clap of thunder. Lauren quickly pushed to her feet. “We better get out of this storm.”
“Yeah. Better.” Luke slapped a hand against his thigh, signaling the dog to follow. “Come on. Let’s hit the road.”
Lauren dropped a protective hand on the dog’s head. “Come inside and dry off first.”
Luke shook his head. “’Preciate the offer, but I need to get the dog out of the weather.”
“He’s welcome to come in, too.”
“But he’s wet and muddy and smells like dog.”
Laughing, Lauren gave the dog’s ears an affectionate rub. “He is a dog. What should he smell like?”
Luke watched her head for the cabin door, the dog trotting happily along at her side. With no other choices left to him, he followed.
Three
The interior of the cabin was dark as a cave. Luke had been right in assuming Lauren would lose electrical power during the storm.
“Give me a second to light some candles,” she said, “then I’ll get you a towel.”
He remained just inside the door and stripped off his dripping slicker, then toed off his muddy boots. He heard the scrape of a match and saw the burst of a small flame. With her hand cupped around it, Lauren leaned to touch the flame to a wick. The flame burned brighter, illuminating her face. She moved her hand to light a second candle, a third. After lighting them all, she straightened with a sigh, pushed back the hood of her jacket and shook out her hair.
He couldn’t help but stare. God, she’s beautiful, he thought. In the candlelight, her hair gleamed like black satin and her cheeks like dew-kissed roses.
She glanced his way and gave him an apologetic smile, as she removed her raincoat. “I’m sorry I can’t offer you hot coffee. The electricity’s off.”
“I figured you’d lose power during the storm.”
“I can offer you a dry towel, though. Give me a sec and I’ll get you one.”
He watched her pass through an open doorway into another room. He heard her scuffling around inside and figured she was changing clothes. She appeared moments later, wearing a butter-yellow sweatsuit, a towel wrapped around her head, turban-style. She was carrying a stack of fluffy towels and handed him one, then dropped down on the sofa and opened the remaining one over her lap.
Smiling at the dog, she patted the towel. “Come on, Buddy. Let’s get you dried off.”
In the midst of drying off his own face, Luke slowly lowered the towel. “Buddy?” he repeated dully.
Her expression turning sheepish, she scrubbed the towel over the dog’s head. “Sorry. Habit. I’ve probably had five pets in my lifetime, and I’ve named every one of them Buddy.” With a shrug she wiped the towel over the dog’s back. “So, what did you name him?”
He eased closer. “Didn’t. I just call him…buddy.”
She lifted her head and looked at him in surprise. “Really?” She shifted her gaze back to the dog and smiled. “Then, I guess Buddy’s your name. Is that all right with you?”
In answer, he licked her full on the mouth.
Laughing, she dragged the back of her hand across her lips. “And isn’t that just like a man? Trying to French kiss a woman on the first date.” She quickly dried the dog’s legs, then leaned back to inspect him. “You still look half-drowned, but that’s the best I can do.” She cocked her head. “How about a treat?”
Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.
Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».
Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.
Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.