in the bed.â
He didnât whisper, but his voice was lower, softer than it had been in the supply room. The realization that he was more alert to danger here caused a fresh chill of fear.
âYou need to get out of those wet jeans and boots. I found a pair of sweatpants and some socks.â
The words hung in the air for a moment. Changing out of her clothes somehow meant the situation was real. They wouldnât be rescued in a few minutes. No wailing sirens outside. Only the howl of the blizzard as it finished the job it had started. And it meant something else. They were in this together. Things were going to get pretty personal pretty fast. Starting with the fact that she was about to undress in the same room with a stranger.
He gestured toward the bed, where the clothing lay. âItâs not much but at least the clothes are dry.â
She nodded, then gently laid the baby in the center of the double bed. He was still wrapped snugly in Lukeâs jacket, and the selfless gesture again triggered something inside her. Sheâd learned from Robert the hard way that some men lacked paternal instinct. Or at least, in her ex-husbandâs case, paternal feelings for a child that wasnât his biological child.
Dana eased the jacket from around the baby, then substituted the bedâs thick blanket. She extended the jacket to Luke. âThank you,â she whispered.
She felt him tense beside her in the darkness. Had she said something wrong? Perhaps it was because sheâdthanked him, because that right belonged exclusively to the childâs mother. And the childâs mother was dead. Whatever the reason, he silently accepted the jacket and slid it on.
Luke commanded Sam to lie down at the foot of the bed, then walked to the window, peering through a small crack between the dresserâs mirror and the window frame. There was moonlight despite the storm, and the ghostly white light was bright enough to cast dancing shadows in the room. As her eyes adjusted, Dana could see that Luke held the gun in position as he scanned the outside perimeter of the cabin.
âWhat is it?â she asked.
âNothing.â His voice was soothing, deep and hypnotic against the steady hum of the space heater. âEverythingâs fine.â He kept his back to her. âYou need to change.â
She realized that he was offering her a measure of privacy. To turn down either the dry clothing or the privacy would be foolish. Her toes were numb, and her jeans were heavy with moisture. The idea of a soft pair of fleece pants and dry socks sounded like heaven.
She sat down on the edge of the bed and pulled off the department-store boots sheâd once thought perfect for the trip. Instead of protecting her feet, the porous suede had soaked up moisture like a sponge, including the whiskey from the bottle that had burst at her feet. Dana stood, unzipping her jeans before she lost her resolve.
The sound of the zipper lowering was only slightly less embarrassing than the rustle of fabric as she forced the jeans over her hips. As Dana wriggled free of the wet, clinging denim, the cold seemed to wrap itself around her bare legs, seeping instantly through the silky fabric of her panties.
She felt totally vulnerable and glanced up, only to find that Luke had taken a step back from the window and had caught her reflection in the dresserâs mirror. Dana could seeher own reflection, illuminated by the moonlight and the seductive red glow of the space heater.
The instant their eyes locked, he looked away.
Even so, Dana could feel the lingering brand of his stare, feel his gaze touching her bare skin as she stepped into the waiting clothing. Luke said nothing, just resumed his watch at the window. An apology or acknowledgment, she realized, would only make things worse. Better to pretend the incident hadnât happened, which is what she intended to do.
The clothes she wore smelled like cedar, no doubt
Learning to Kill: Stories