all about his landlord responsibilities. Ricky’s disappearance was consuming most of his brain right now. “I’m sorry. I can take a look at it now so you don’t have to sleep in the cold.”
She glanced over her shoulder inside the cottage, then swung the door open wider. “Come on in. You sure you’re not too tired?”
“I won’t get any sleep knowing you’re in here hovering under the threat of hypothermia. Shouldn’t take long.” He stepped inside, raised an eyebrow at the fire crackling in the hearth. At least he hadn’t wakened her. “Looks like you have enough firewood to get you through the night, anyway. I’ll make sure I drop more off on your porch in the morning before work, but for future reference, there’s an unlocked shed behind my house full of it if you need more. I have some EZ gel starters if you’d like some, too.”
“That’s okay. I know my way around building a fire.” She set the paper bag on the small kitchen table and pulled out the Styrofoam bowl filled with soup. “Want some?”
He shook his head. “I’m just going to check your heater and get out of your way. Just wanted to make sure you were all right. You scared me this afternoon.”
Her smile turned bashful and he found it utterly appealing. “You’re sweet. I’m fine, though. Really. Please, don’t worry about the heat tonight. I can sleep in here in front of the fire and you can come by tomorrow to see what you can do. You look exhausted.”
The concern in her voice, and the way she watched him like he’d pass out on his feet any second, chased some of the fatigue from his muscles. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had been worried about him. He hadn’t realized he’d missed it . . . or how much he enjoyed that spark of energy such concern created in him.
“You sure you don’t want some?” She held out the Styrofoam bowl. “Or I could make some coffee. Sorry, but I don’t have anything stronger.”
“Sit. Enjoy your dinner.” He opened the breaker panel, then flipped the switch off, then on again. The whoosh of the heat kicking on filled the small cabin. He held his hand to the vent. “Looks like that did the trick.”
Her smile eased the last of his fatigue from his bones. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome. I’ll come by tomorrow and figure out why the breaker tripped. If I forget, please come over and remind me. You can share my heat and a bottle of wine.”
He hadn’t meant that in a sexual way, but the way her spoon stopped halfway to her mouth and her gaze slowly trailed over him, he knew how she’d taken it. What would she do if he closed the two feet between them and . . .
All his blood flowed south.
He flipped the panel closed. A piece of sharp metal caught his hand, slicing into his palm. He cursed.
“Let me see.” She placed her bowl on the table and moved to his side.
“It’s fine. Just a little cut.” It burned like hell but he wasn’t about to tell her that.
“Come on.” Her hands gripped his and shifted toward the light. “Oh, that’s nasty.” She pulled him to the sink and stuck his hand under cold water. “Keep it under the water, I’ll be right back.”
Before he could protest, she disappeared down the hallway. She returned holding the biggest first aid kit he’d ever seen. When she turned off the tap and wrapped his hand in a soft kitchen towel, he smiled down at her. “Accident prone?”
She glanced at him with a frown. “Excuse me?”
He nodded at the box on the edge of the counter. He kept a small kit in each cabin’s bathroom, but it held only the necessities. Hers looked like it might hold half a hospital pharmacy.
“Oh.” She laughed, releasing his hand long enough to flip open the lid on the large box. “Occupational hazard.”
“Doctor?”
“Nurse,” she corrected. “My last post was in Bolivia. Before that was Haiti. You get used to being overprepared for anything.”
He watched as she dried his hand and examined the