The Bride's Second Thought. Elizabeth August

send Miss Reese on her way, the better.”

      

      After closing and locking the bedroom door, Ellen climbed into the bed. From the next room she could hear her host muttering something and guessed he was talking to the wolf. He’s probably making a joke about my stupidity, she mused. She couldn’t fault him. She had behaved stupidly. If she’d wanted to cross a border, she should have headed for Mexico.

      The wind buffeted the cabin. As she snuggled farther under the fluffy down comforter, the phrase “snug as a bug in a rug” ran through her head. Clearly she was still in shock from the discovery of Charles with Janet. She was a prisoner of the storm, trapped in a cabin, seemingly in the middle of nowhere, with a stranger and a wolf for companions. There should be nothing comforting or snug about that.

      Too tired to ponder this curious course of emotions, she closed her eyes and immediately drifted to sleep.

      Chapter Three

      Ellen woke to the smell of bacon frying. Recalling that she’d not only told her host the embarrassing details of her breakup with Charles, she’d even told him about her mother’s fear of her becoming a spinster, she groaned and buried her face in the pillow. The thought of hiding out in the bedroom for a while longer appealed to her. Unfortunately hunger and the call of nature thwarted that plan. Dressing quickly, she ran a brush through her hair. The thick mass of brown tresses had a touch of natural curl and were cut into a short, easily managed style. Usually, she wet any wayward strands then blow-dried them into submission. This morning she ignored the fact that one side was flattened, while a patch of hair toward the back of the top wanted to stick out. She also opted to forgo any makeup.

      Impressing her host was not at the top of her list of priorities. Getting her car unstuck and heading back to Boston was.

      “Morning,” she said as she left her room and walked briskly to the bathroom.

      “Morning,” Peter returned, keeping his back to her and continuing to watch the food he was preparing.

      His tone was polite but cool, and Ellen had the distinct feeling that the sooner she was gone, the better he’d like it. Two minds that travel the same path, she mused, entering the bathroom.

      “Hope you like pancakes,” he said when she came out a few minutes later. Without waiting for a response, he set a plate with a stack of three, along with several strips of bacon, on the table at the place she’d occupied the night before. “If you want more, help yourself. There’s more batter in the refrigerator,” he added, heading to the door. “The snow has stopped and the weather is supposed to remain clear for the next few days. I’m going to go see about your car.”

      She looked at the pancakes and her mouth watered. But pride rebelled at allowing him to do all the work. “I want to come along.” Abruptly, her stomach grumbled loudly in protest.

      He paused in the act of pulling on his coat. Until now, he’d purposely avoided looking at her. She’d drifted in and out of his dreams last night, each time running back to a shadowy figure named Charles. Both his conscious and his subconscious minds were warning him to stay clear of her, and he intended to do just that.

      But manners refused to allow him to continue averting his gaze. Turning to her, he didn’t think he’d ever seen eyes so dark brown or a woman who looked so deliciously disheveled. He scowled impatiently at himself. Keep your mind on business, he ordered.

      As Ellen headed to the rack of coats, her stomach growled loudly, protesting once again.

      Getting her on her way as quickly as possible was a priority, but he didn’t want her fainting from hunger. “You eat. I need to move more wood onto the porch before I head out to your car.”

      She was certain he was changing his plans to accommodate her, but she was too hungry to argue. “I won’t take long,” she promised, already retracing her steps to the table.

      As she gobbled down the pancakes, she wondered if they were as good as they tasted or if she was simply so hungry anything would appeal to her. Coming to the last couple of bites, she decided that they were truly excellent. And the bacon had been perfectly prepared as well. Peter Whitley, she concluded, would make a great husband. Unexpectedly she found herself wondering what it would feel like to be in his arms. “My cooking is just fine,” she declared, telling herself that she didn’t need lights of fancy clouding her mind. She was confused enough as it was.

      The sound of wood being stacked reminded her she was slowing her host’s efforts to get rid of her. Rising as she forked the last bite into her mouth, she carried her dishes to the sink, rinsed them, then again headed toward the coatrack. Halfway there she recalled the icy wind that had entered the cabin when he’d gone out and paused to make a side trip to the bedroom. There she pulled on a sweater over the turtleneck and shirt she was already wearing and a second set of socks, then hurried to join him.

      Seeing her, Peter dumped the load of wood he was carrying on the pile at the end of the porch and motioned for her to follow him. “The way this snow drifts, we’ll probably have to shovel some before Jasper can even find your car,” he said, explaining why two shovels were strapped to the side of the snowmobile.

      She nodded, waited for him to seat himself, then climbed aboard. As the uneven terrain forced her to hold more tightly to him, and the cold wind caused her to huddle against his back, she found herself thinking she’d never known a more sturdy man. In her mind’s eye she recalled how he’d looked without his bulky coat...the broadness of his shoulders, his fiat abdomen, the sturdy columns of his legs.

      She couldn’t believe the very close-to-lecherous path her thoughts were taking. It had to be some kind of rebound reaction, she reasoned. Having wanton thoughts about an almost complete stranger wasn’t like her. The moment the machine was stopped, she released him and dismounted.

      Peter drew a breath of relief. Halfway to the car, he’d begun undressing her, imagining how her soft curves would feel in his hands. Clearly he’d been without female companionship far too long, he mocked himself. Unstrapping the shovels, he focused on the business at hand.

      Bane circled the vehicle then ran off into the woods pursuing his own interests while Ellen examined the drift that had built around the front and passenger side of the car. On the passenger side, it formed a snowbank that continued to a good foot above the roof of the car. As soon as Peter finished unstrapping the shovels, she took one and began to free the vehicle.

      “Tom Grady keeps the drive plowed,” he said as they worked. “I’ve told him to come and clear it as far as your car to make it easier for Jasper to pull you out. But he won’t be able to get around your vehicle. He’ll have to come back to do the rest once you’re gone.”

      Again she heard impatience in his voice. “I’m really sorry to be such an inconvenience,” she said tersely. “I can dig out my car on my own. Why don’t you run along and take care of whatever chores you need to take care of.”

      Peter frowned. She disturbed his peace of mind, but that didn’t make it right for him to make her feel unwelcome. “I didn’t mean to sound as if you were a nuisance.” He told himself that her business was her business and to say no more, but he couldn’t stop himself. “I just hope you think twice before you take off in a snit again. Next time you might not be so lucky.” That he’d felt he had to remind her of her stupidity grated on her nerves. “I’ve learned my lesson. So could we please drop the subject?”

      Hearing the hostility in her voice, he mentally kicked himself for not keeping quiet. After all, he wasn’t her keeper. “Consider it dropped.”

      Ellen nodded and concentrated on freeing her car.

      They had it nearly dug out when a heavy duty, four-wheel-drive police car came to a stop at the end of the drive. “Morning,” the uniformed officer called out, leaving his vehicle on the main road, its hazard lights flashing to warn any motorists of its presence, as he climbed out and made his way toward them.

      “Morning,” Peter called back, setting