The microwave beeped and she was glad for the interruption. Turning, she took the mugs of hot water from the small oven.
But Sam was right there, snagging the mugs from her, setting them on the counter. He towered over her while his bare skin, his male scent and his muscled arms seemed to surround her. “When did your mother get sick?”
“Oh, Sam. I don’t really want to—”
He clasped her shoulders and looked deep into her eyes. “Tell me.”
“I had graduated from college and was in my second year of veterinary school when she was diagnosed with ovarian cancer. She had no one but me. So I quit school to move back home and take care of her.”
“That’s why you didn’t finish?”
Corrie nodded, a huge lump in her throat, not because she had to quit school, but because she still missed her mother. She could feel the heat of Sam’s hands through his flannel shirt. She wanted to reach out and touch the stubble on his jaw. She wanted to let him hold her until his strength became hers and the missing and the loneliness went away.
“Why didn’t you go back?”
She remembered how her mother wouldn’t take any help from her father. They had both cut him out of their lives because he’d hurt them so badly. When a girl saw her dad with another woman, when he seemed to care more about that woman than about being a father and a husband, the pain of rejection cut deep. He’d made halfhearted attempts to see Corrie after he and her mother divorced, but Corrie hadn’t wanted to see him. The visits had been too awkward because Corrie had just wanted him to go away. Except, she really hadn’t. She’d just wanted her dad back—the dad he’d been before she’d caught him with a woman who wasn’t her mother.
“I didn’t go back to school because I’d used up my money paying for nursing care for Mom. I’m saving again. I’m still hoping to finish.”
“And if you have a baby?”
“I don’t have all the answers yet, Sam, but having a baby doesn’t mean I can’t finish school some day.”
He released her shoulders and stepped away, putting more than physical distance between them. “Better mix in the chocolate or the water will get cold.”
She wasn’t sure what had just happened, but something had. She might not be the only one unwilling to confide her secrets.
When they’d settled on the sofa, Patches raised his head but then went back to sleep, his nose close to Jasper’s.
“I’m surprised he doesn’t mind sharing his bed,” Corrie noticed.
“Patches never met a dog he didn’t like.”
She laughed and the tension that had cropped up between them dissipated.
Sam dipped his cookies into his hot chocolate and didn’t seem bothered when they disintegrated in it. She took hers apart, licked off the icing and ate one half at a time. As she did, she noticed Sam watching her.
She wiped her hand across her mouth. “Crumbs?” she asked.
“A few.” His voice was low and husky. With his thumb, he wiped the corner of her mouth.
She went very still. Time seemed to stop. Her breathing became shallower and faster.
Sam set his mug down on the coffee table. “I think I’ve had enough. I’m going to try to sleep again. You should, too.”
If she slept, she knew what fantasies would invade her dreams—Sam kissing her…Sam making love to her.
Indulging in fantasies would throw her off course. She wouldn’t let a man do that to her.
She would stay on course and become a mother—with or without Sam Barclay.
Sam came in the front door, the morning light brightening the cabin. The dogs followed him inside, and Corrie realized she hadn’t even heard them leave. Sam looked different this morning and she noticed why—he’d shaved off his beard.
“I’m going back to Rapid Creek with you today,” he announced. “I’ll follow you.”
She’d never expected this. “I didn’t think you’d come home until the end of the week.”
“I’m not sure the snow’s finished. I don’t want to see you get caught in it alone while you’re trying to drive home.”
It seemed Sam Barclay had a chivalrous streak. She should have known that but it had never been directed at her before. “I don’t need your protection, Sam. Really. I’ll be fine if you want to stay.”
“It’s time for me to go back. I’ll be packed in about a half hour.” Sam was keeping his distance this morning. She thought about last night on the sofa when he’d touched her so gently, so sensually, so temptingly.
“Have you made a decision about…anything else?”
“You’ll be the first one to know when I do.”
She felt herself blush. This new awareness between them was unsettling. It could be exciting, but she wouldn’t let excitement take hold, not with what they were considering. She needed Sam as a friend, not as the hunky object of a teenage-like crush. Hormones as an adult were still hormones. She could control them as she always had. She’d never understood women who found themselves in situations they couldn’t handle. Her mind had always ruled her body and she didn’t see that changing now.
Corrie picked up the towel she’d used on Jasper last night. “I’ll rub him down and then get a quick shower if that’s okay.”
“That’s fine. Just don’t stay in too long or you’ll run out of hot water.”
“Do you happen to have a hair dryer?” She thought he might laugh at her request.
Instead he frowned. “As a matter of fact, I do.” His voice went lower. “I brought Alicia up here once and she forgot it.”
Alicia. Alicia had been here with Sam.
Corrie knew without a doubt that the two of them hadn’t slept in separate rooms. Alicia Walker was the kind of woman who went after what she wanted and she’d wanted Sam. Corrie still didn’t know who’d broken the engagement but from the expression on Sam’s face, now wasn’t the time to ask.
Sam didn’t stay while she toweled Jasper. Apparently mentioning Alicia had brought up memories he didn’t want to think about. Maybe she was the one who had broken it off and he still wanted to be engaged. Maybe he still wanted to marry her.
When Corrie stepped into Sam’s bathroom, she realized it wasn’t as warm as the living room and she didn’t dawdle in the shower. She’d forgotten to ask for a fresh towel so she pulled Sam’s from the rack. It smelled like his soap and him. He rarely wore cologne. He’d told her after she’d been hired that some animals were skittish about smells.
After she vigorously toweled her hair and knew she wouldn’t be able to do anything about the ringlets without a curling iron, she began dressing. She’d snapped her jeans and just fastened her bra when there was a knock on the door. She froze.
“I have the hair dryer,” Sam called from the other side.
“Just a minute.” Quickly she tugged her sweater over her head and lifted out her wet hair. As she opened the door, she was breathless.
Sam’s gaze lingered on her wet hair. “You look different.” He handed her the hair dryer.
“Just wait. I’ll look like a dandelion gone to seed when I