Danger Becomes You. Annette Broadrick

then.”

      “I was scared out of my wits, Leslie. You were gone much too long. I figured I’d find your body lying somewhere in a snowdrift.”

      A corner of her mouth lifted. “I couldn’t get the trunk open. The lock had frozen.”

      “Then how did you get your bag?”

      “I blew on it for what seemed like forever in hopes it would thaw a little.” Before he could comment, she said, “I know. It was a stupid thing to do.”

      “Not if it worked.” He settled back into his chair. Other than feeling as though he’d had several beers in quick succession, he felt fine. He glanced at her again. She looked like a baby chick with her fine hair in tufts around her face and neck. When she lifted her cup she saw him staring at her. She paused with her coffee halfway to her mouth and blinked.

      She really was a cute kid. “How old are you?” he asked.

      “Twenty-five.”

      “Really. I figured you to be in your teens.”

      “How old are you?”

      “Just turned thirty.” He could tell she was surprised. Probably thought he was some old crippled geezer. “How old did you think I was?”

      “I didn’t know. I’m not very good at judging people’s ages.”

      “Ah.” He waited, but when she didn’t say anything more, he asked, “What do you do for a living?”

      She placed her cup on the table, folded her hands around it and asked, “What difference does it make?”

      “None whatsoever. Just making conversation.”

      “That’s a change,” she muttered, bringing her cup to her mouth and draining it.

      “I realize I haven’t been very friendly since you arrived.”

      “Gee. You think?”

      He shrugged. “Okay, so I’ve been rude. I apologize. So why don’t we start over?” He held out his hand. “Glad to meet you, Leslie O’Brien. I’m Jason Crenshaw from Texas, and a member of the United States Army.”

      She tentatively reached out and took his hand. She was still cold, which was probably the reason electricity seemed to jump between them.

      She took a deep breath and pulled her hand away. “I take it you’re on leave of some kind.”

      “Medical leave. I’m considering getting out and doing something else. I have no idea what at the moment. Eventually, I’ll be going home.”

      He wasn’t looking forward to that visit. His only hope was to have his leg working well enough that he need never tell them that he’d been hurt.

      “To Texas?”

      He paused, wondering why he was talking about this. And to a stranger, at that. Who knew? If it helped her to be more comfortable around him, then why not? In a few days she’d be on her way to wherever she was going and he’d never see her again.

      “Yeah, my folks have a ranch in Central Texas. In fact, it’s been in the Crenshaw family since the 1840s.”

      “Wow,” she whispered. “That’s a long time.”

      He nodded. “I’m the youngest of four sons.”

      “The youngest? I would have thought you were the oldest, the way you act.”

      He grinned and she looked at him in amazement.

      “What?” he asked.

      “That’s the first time I’ve seen you smile. You should do it more often.”

      He shook his head ruefully. “Sorry about that. I’ve been here on my own too long, I guess. Nothing much to smile at these past few months.

      “As for my brothers, they don’t give me much flak. I went into the service right out of college. I rarely go home. Before this—” he gestured at his leg, “—I was out of the country most of the time. I stay in touch with them by e-mail.”

      “I bet they’re worried about you, being hurt and alone up here.”

      “Nah. They don’t know where I am or that I’ve been wounded. I plan to keep it that way.” He looked around. “I don’t know about you, but I’m hungry. Do you want some of the stew I made yesterday?” He started to push himself up.

      “Please don’t get up. I’ll heat it up for us.”

      He watched her walk away from him. She certainly filled out those jeans nicely. These were khaki-colored, not the ones she wore yesterday. Her legs seemed to go on forever.

      He knew she could hear him around the corner so he asked, “You haven’t mentioned a husband or anyone who might be worrying about you. Is there someone you want to call on the cell phone?”

      She leaned around the corner and looked at him for a long moment. “No. I’m not married and there’s nobody worrying about me.” She disappeared again.

      “Oh. Too bad. You’re a fine-looking woman, Leslie O’Brien, a fine-looking woman.”

      This time she came around the corner with her hands on her hips. “Have you been drinking?”

      “No, ma’am.”

      “You’re acting strange.”

      “Prob’ly the pills.”

      “What pills?”

      “For pain.”

      She frowned. “They must be fairly strong.”

      “Who knows? I never take stuff like that.”

      “But you did today.”

      “Well, yeah. I was, uh, you know, uh, hurting a little more than usual.”

      “I see,” she said, her frown intact.

      “Why?”

      She shook her head and disappeared. A few minutes later she brought them two bowls of stew, went back for two glasses of water, refilled their cups with coffee, then sat down.

      “Maybe you’ll feel better once you eat.”

      He picked up the spoon. “Oh, I’m feeling fine, just fine.”

      She grinned and he noticed she had a dimple in her cheek. “I’m beginning to believe that.”

      “That’s the first time I’ve seen you smile. You have a dimple,” he pointed out.

      “That’s right,” she replied, chuckling for some reason, and began to eat.

      He ate in silence. When he finished she asked, “Would you like some more?”

      He shook his head. “Thanks, but no.” When he tried to get up, she immediately took his dishes, along with her own, to the kitchen. With the help of one of the crutches, Jase made it to the big chair and sank down into it. He pushed the bar for the recliner and sighed with pleasure when his legs came up.

      A few minutes later, Leslie came out of the kitchen area and looked surprised to see him sprawled in the chair. He waved his hand at the couch. “Here. Sit down. You need to rest.”

      She eyed him for a moment, then walked over and sat. “I thought I’d read.”

      “Oh. Well, I guess that’s all right, if you don’t want to talk.”

      Her lips twitched. “Actually, I’d rather listen to you.”

      He nodded agreeably. “Okay.”

      “Tell me more about your family.”

      His smile slipped. After a moment he said, “I love my family. My mom and dad are my heroes.”

      “Do