Danger Becomes You. Annette Broadrick

hot water heater and the kitchen stove ran on propane. He’d lucked out, getting to use this place. It had all the comforts of home. Except for the electricity going out periodically, he’d done fine here. Even had a stacked, apartment-size washer and dryer, as well as fully functional refrigerator and stove, and a pantry that he had heavily stocked so he wouldn’t have to leave the place.

      In addition, he had the room necessary for him to go through the excruciating physical therapy that would guarantee him the full use of his leg eventually.

      By the time he finished his shower and redressed, Jase felt marginally better. He opened the door and stepped into the warm room, thankful to have enough wood chopped and stacked to keep the place heated until spring, with or without electricity. By then, he’d be rejoining his unit.

      The thought was far from comforting. He still had nightmares from the attack, still felt tremendous guilt that he’d led his squad into an ambush, still fought the wish that he’d died along with the two that hadn’t made it.

      Leslie had rigged up two blankets, one on the side facing his bed, the other at the end of the bed. Since the bed sat in the corner of the cabin, the other two sides were protected from his leering view.

      “Feel safer now?”

      She turned to look at him. “Yes, thank you,” she replied politely, her chin slightly raised. That chin of hers was a clear indication that she didn’t intend to back down from him.

      Despite himself, he was impressed. Not too many women he’d known would be handling the present situation without resorting to tears. He thought of his mother and smiled. And his oldest brother Jake’s wife, Ashley. Now there were two women who stood up to whatever or whoever gave them grief, taking names and kicking butt.

      He didn’t know his other two sisters-in-law well enough to put them in the same category, but he had a strong hunch that any woman who would take on Jared and Jude would have to know how to stand her ground.

      He went over to his chair and sat down. He’d been reading a biography of General Patton for the past few days. He found the man and his life to be fascinating. The bio had kept his mind off of his present circumstances. For a while, at least.

      He needed to come to terms with his military career. He could ask for a discharge, but if he did, what would he do after that? He’d considered himself career military until that last recon mission. Despite the fact he’d been told by his superior officers several times in the hospital that there was nothing he could have done to save the two men’s lives and that the rest of the squad, despite their wounds, survived because of his quick thinking, he had trouble accepting their reassurances. He shouldn’t have lost a single man and he knew it.

      “If you’ll excuse me, I think I’ll turn in. I was up rather early this morning.” He looked up and saw that Leslie had changed into the sweats he’d given her. She had the pants doubled at the waist and they still puddled around her stockinged feet.

      The sweatshirt was a little better. At least it should keep her warm.

      Her determined politeness amused him for some reason. Gravely, he nodded his head. “I’ll do my best not to make too much noise so as not to disturb you,” he replied, equally politely. Since the only noise when they weren’t talking was the sound of the wind howling and the occasional pop and sizzle of the wood inside the stove, he expected to get a smile out of her.

      Instead she nodded soberly and returned to the other end of the room. He watched as she lifted a flap of the blanket and got into the bed, the blanket falling back into place and effectively concealing her.

      He shook his head. You’d think the fact that he could barely get around would have convinced her she had no worries where he was concerned.

      He wasn’t certain whether to be flattered or insulted.

      Two

      “Take cover! Take cover! Ambush! Thompson’s hit. We’ve got to reach him! Noooooooooo!”

      Leslie sat straight up in bed, almost hitting her head on the bunk above. What was going on? Who was shouting?

      She pulled the blanket back and saw that Jason must be dreaming. She could barely see that he lay on his bed without covers, wearing nothing but his underwear. He moaned and muttered something she couldn’t quite decipher.

      Slowly, Leslie released the blanket and lay down once again. What had happened to this man? Was he in the military? She turned over and faced the wall, pulling the covers up to her neck.

      The room had cooled off considerably since she’d gone to bed and yet Jason lay bare. Maybe it was just as well that the room was so dark because she had seen more than she should have. The blanket around her bunk was to give him a little privacy, as well.

      Leslie shivered. Wondering about the stranger whose cabin she was in kept her from worrying about her own situation. She didn’t dare call Teri to see if those men had returned looking for her. With their access to law enforcement data, it was possible they had already discovered that she had rented a car.

      Would they look for any relatives she might visit? If so, it was possible she may have endangered Larry and his family. Those men could already be in Michigan, looking for her.

      The thought terrified her.

      Eventually, Leslie drifted off to sleep. When she opened her eyes again a faint light in the room testified that morning had arrived. She pulled her arm out of the cover. The air was cold, although she could hear the crackling of the fire in the stove.

      She sat up and pushed the blanket aside, surprised to see Jason on the floor near the stove, exercising. From his muttered curses, the movements must be painful and yet he continued to work his leg and, after several minutes, his arm and shoulders.

      Leslie suddenly realized she was watching him once again without his knowledge and quickly dropped the blanket. The light from the kerosene lamp on the table had gilded his body, emphasizing the ridge of muscles running down his torso.

      She waited until she heard the bathroom door close before she peeked out to make certain he was no longer in the main part of the cabin. When she knew she was alone, she hurriedly changed into her own clothes and folded the ones she’d borrowed and placed them on the pillow.

      After warming her hands at the stove, she wandered into the kitchen nook and looked around. She was amazed at all the provisions. He didn’t have much in the refrigerator but there was plenty of food for her to prepare for breakfast.

      She quickly made a batch of biscuits, found some packages of dried fruit and nuts as well as oatmeal. While the biscuits cooked, she made oatmeal, adding dried apricots and chopped walnuts.

      The table was set and coffee poured when Jason came out of the bathroom. He’d showered and shaved and she found the transformation remarkable, given the way he’d looked when she first arrived. He was younger than she’d guessed.

      Once again he wore jeans and today had on a bulky sweater that must have been bought for him by a loved one because it matched the unusual color of his eyes.

      He stopped abruptly when he saw the table. She ducked back into the alcove and grabbed the biscuits, quickly placing them on the table before returning to the kitchen.

      “What—? You didn’t have to—” He stopped when she returned with the oatmeal.

      She smiled at him. “I hope you don’t mind that I made breakfast.”

      “Mind?” he said slowly. He absently pulled her chair out for her before he sat. Ah, so he’d been taught manners at some time in his life—sometime before becoming a hermit. “Thank you,” he said.

      Neither one said anything during the meal. She replenished his oatmeal, finishing up what she’d made. When she set it in front of him, he looked up at her. “Where did you get the idea of putting stuff in the oatmeal?”

      Since he’d wolfed down the first bowl, she didn’t think he was criticizing her. She ate one