“Okay, I’m awake.” She looked toward the door. “Is it still raining?” Silly question when she could see water sheeting off the window pane.
“It eased off for a while.”
She looked back at the man. “How do you stand being up here by yourself?”
He shrugged. “I like being alone.”
“Yes, solitude can have its advantages, but what if something happened?”
“Max is a pretty good watchdog, he could go for help.”
That sparked an idea in her head. “Could he go now and let the authorities know I’m here?”
“Not in this weather. Besides, this isn’t a life-or-death situation.”
“Maybe not to you,” she said, hating the trapped feeling that was enveloping her.
“If you’ll be patient a while, this weather will clear and I’ll get you down the mountain, or better yet, maybe Rory will rescue you.”
“Rory? Who’s Rory?”
“You tell me. You called out his name when I tried to wake you.”
She gasped. “I did?” At his nod, she worked to remember, but nothing came. She couldn’t come up with anyone by the name of Rory. What if he was her…husband? “I can’t remember,” she said through gritted teeth.
“Stop trying so hard. Things will come to you.” He moved closer. “Now, look up here so I can check your pupils.” She did as he asked and sat still as he shined the flashlight in her eyes.
Jake Sanderstone was so close that she could feel his breath against her face. She drew air into her lungs and inhaled his scent and something else. Straw and some kind of animal. A horse.
She pulled back. “Horses.”
“What?” He looked confused and annoyed. “What about horses?”
“You smell like horses. Why is that?”
His nearly black eyes captured hers. “Maybe because I just came in from feeding two in the stable. Why? Do you remember something?”
She shook her head. “Just that I recognize the scent of horses. That’s not such a breakthrough. Pretty distinctive odor.”
“Maybe. But you might know something about horses. Give yourself some time to think about that.” He got up and went to the kitchen area. On the stove was a pan and he began stirring. “If you’re hungry, I heated up some stew.”
Suddenly, her stomach growled. “Maybe I could eat a little.”
“Good.” He smiled this time. “It’ll help you get your strength back.” He pulled down two mismatched bowls from the cupboard and filled them with two large ladle full of stew. He carried the heaping bowls to the small table and went back for a loaf of bread.
“Supper is ready,” he said as he came to the couch.
Ana started to stand, but her legs wouldn’t cooperate. Instead of asking for his help, she used the couch for support and slowly made her way into the kitchen. “Looks good.”
“It’s canned. I’m hoping when you feel better, you can practice your culinary skills on me.”
“I don’t cook.”
He sent her a questioning look. “Now, of all the things you had to remember, why that?”
She shrugged and picked up her spoon. “I don’t think I’ve spent much time in a kitchen at all.” She paused and looked around the bowl.
“What are you looking for?”
“A napkin.”
Silently, Jake went to the cupboard and pulled out a package of paper napkins and handed her one. She could feel his eyes on her as she placed it across her lap.
“You all set now?” he asked as he returned to his seat.
“Yes, thank you,” she answered. After taking a bite, she savored the taste. She’d probably had better, but nothing more appreciated. “As I was saying…I don’t recognize anything.”
“Well, when you’re feeling better, I’ll introduce you around,” he said with a cocky smile, then added, “sugar.”
“I insist you stop calling me by that ridiculous name.”
“You’re insisting?”
Ana hated that flash of arrogance in his midnight eyes. She didn’t like being teased, never did. Another flicker of memory. Well, she wasn’t about to tell him that so she concentrated on eating her stew. But there was another pressing matter that she did have to talk with him about. She needed to use the facilities. She looked around the room wondering if it was through the bedroom.
“What do you need?” he asked her.
“Nothing.” She turned back to her food, but the need wouldn’t go away, it only intensified. She stood. “Would you please direct me to the facilities?”
“Sure, but I’m going to have to go with you.”
“I beg your pardon. I assure you Mr. Sanderstone, I’m capable of taking care of the situation quite nicely, thank you.”
“The name’s Jake. And I think this time, especially in your condition, you need my help.”
“You’ve helped quite enough. Now I want you to show me where to go.”
His smile turned into a full-fledged grin. “It would be my pleasure.” He pointed to the door. “It’s outside to the left about thirty yards from the cabin.”
Ana bit back a groan, but wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing her distaste. He went to the door ahead of her and helped her into rain gear and boots. He opened the door and walked her to the edge of the porch. He turned serious. “Sure you don’t need my help, sugar?”
Her temper flared again. “Look…Yank. I told you, I can handle this.”
She got the satisfaction of seeing his irritation before she stepped off the porch. The cold rain washed over her face and made her shiver. She moved slowly, but she would die before she let Jake Sanderstone know just how much she really needed him.
Just before dawn the next morning, Jake was stretched out on the couch, listening to the crackling of the fire. Ana had gone to sleep in the bed. He’d checked on her off and on during the night. She was much better. Enough so he felt he could leave her for a while.
After hours of deliberating, he’d come to the conclusion that he had to return to the crash site. There were two bodies up there exposed to animals and the elements, and he needed to bury them.
There also might be a chance that the plane’s radio still worked. A slim one, but it would be great if he could at least get word out about the crash and the lone survivor. Not that there was any chance that a rescue team would get here until the storm passed and that could be days away. But he had to try.
And it wouldn’t hurt to find out about the woman he’d brought into his home. Maybe he could find some information on her in the meantime. At least she would have a name and maybe that would help trigger her memory.
He threw back his blanket and stood. He grabbed his dried pants from the hearth and put them on, next came his shirt and a sweater. He went to the sink and pumped water and splashed some on his face. The cold made him shiver. Well, if that didn’t wake him nothing would. Not wanting to waste any time, he’d eat breakfast on the trail and reached in the cupboard for some jerky.
He grabbed his jacket then rubbed Max’s fur “Come on, boy, I have a job for you,” he whispered and led him into the bedroom.
He stood next to the bed. Ana