5

 

Aiden ducked as he entered Beth’s cabin. The ceiling closed in on him. “I feel like a giant in a leprechaun’s house. These ceilings must only be seven foot tall!”

Beth used her body to mime shrinking. “I’m told the original lady who lived here was only four foot eleven.”

The warmth of dry heat welcomed him. Beth held out her hand as he shucked his wet coat. She smelled like rain-washed air in the small space. Once he was free of his coat, he shook himself like a bear.

Beth flinched back, her eyes filled with terror in her suddenly pale face.

Judging by the vibes she put off, some big guy had really done a number on her.

“Sorry. Guess I take up too much room.” He looked deep into her eyes, softened his voice. “I don’t want you to ever be afraid of me, Beth. You’re getting yourself all wet.”

“I know. I’ll dry. And I know I need to relax. I can be skittish. I don’t see you as a threat to me, Aiden. I wouldn’t let you near if I did feel that way.” Her face lit with the tease. Then she sobered just as fast. “But I fear you may be a threat to the wolf’s well-being.”

“Time will tell on that one.”

She held his wet coat away from her body, disbelief clouding her face. “How would you know about size used as intimidation? I imagine you’ve always been big.”

“I know what it’s like. I’ve been pushed around by a big man. The guy who tried to be aggressive with me when I was young was also a bigwig in his church. I called him a hypocrite for the way he treated teenaged boys. That’s a story for another day.” At the pain he saw in her eyes, Aiden lowered his voice. “Fer sure, I haven’t always been big. I was once a young kid with a giant hovering over me.”

She motioned for him to take a seat in the blue camp chair closest to the stove. Then she stuck the tip of a broom handle in the hood of his coat before leaning it against the wall to dry by the fire. She moved closer, between the stove and his chair.

“It’s my turn to be sorry. I still have some hurts to put behind me,” she said, more to the stovetop than to him.

Winds and whistles thundered like a freight train outside the cabin. The only sound in the room came from the hiss of burning logs, soothing and relaxing, scenting the air with wood smoke.

He watched Beth lift a stainless steel thermos from the back of the stove and shake it. Her movements flowed with strength and sureness. Rosy color from the heat brushed her cheeks as she unscrewed the lid and poured steaming, deliciously fragrant hot chocolate into two hefty ceramic mugs.

She handed one to him, then eased into a matching red camp chair and rested her drink on her knee. “So, we’re going to be here awhile. We might as well get to know one another. Tell me about some big, intimidating brute getting in your face.”

He blew a stream of air, figured she wouldn’t let it go. “I had a high school guidance counselor who was also the assistant football coach. The guy was a perfect picture of what happens when a Nebraska Cornhusker lineman turns to flab. His body was almost square, as broad through the seat as his shoulders gone soft. Anyway, when I was sixteen, this guy glowered at me while I was seated on the locker-room bench. ‘You’ll play football if you want to graduate,’ he warned me.”

Her bottom lip twitched when he changed his tone of voice, but she didn’t really smile. “Your imitation is almost funny, but the subject matter is far from it.”

He knew she identified with the bullying. She showed strength when she caught the humor in the situation, and he almost laughed. He focused on her lips as she sipped the hot chocolate. Time stilled when she licked the corner of her mouth. He cleared his throat at the idea of tasting the chocolate on her lips.

“You wanted to graduate. I would imagine that scared you into playing football. I take it you did, since you obviously went on to college.”

He jerked his gaze off her face. He’d much rather be talking about her.

“Do you fear anything now?”

Wow. The woman could cut to the quick of a man. He swirled the liquid in his cup, watched the dark chocolate mix with the lighter milky mess. Then he tossed it back, scalding his throat and beyond. He winced, coughed, felt his eyes fill. Still, he somehow managed to continue. “Only one thing comes to mind. I think I’m afraid of turning my back on anyone who depends on me.”

The way my father did when I needed him most.

He wanted to tell her to quit pushing, but he liked the sound of her hushed voice. His fingers itched. He leaned back, straightened his legs, and stretched as far as the chair would allow so he could reach into his pocket to fiddle with the keys he retrieved.

The keys chinked against each other as he worked them, searching for the right words. He wanted to know about her. He raised his gaze to study her face. Her hair was a mess, but he was learning to like the mishmash of her do. “Your turn. What do you fear?”

Beth reached for his mug, and walked out of the room with both empties. When she returned, she ran her hands over his coat. Obviously dried to her satisfaction, she unhooked it from its makeshift hanger and crossed behind him to smooth the shoulders of the coat around the back of Aiden’s chair.

A locked-up longing rose to his throat at the brief brush of her fingers against his back.

“I hate feeling helpless, small, without power while trapped in the grip of a man’s clutches. No matter what the feminists say, it’s still a man’s world.” She laughed, bitterness robbing the sound of any joy. Once she was seated again, she turned her face away.

Her profile was fragile yet determined. If she ever grasped her own strength, she’d be a power to be reckoned with.

“Do you feel trapped here in the cabin with me now?”

“Before I answer that, I’ll tell you how frustrated I’ve felt sometimes as a small woman in a world run by men.” She faced him. Her eyes lit up. “It actually isn’t a man’s world. According to the Bible, God handed the world over to Satan. But God will get it back at the right time. Our Lord is still sovereign in the lives of His people.”

A tight tug yanked at his chest and settled in his core. Every time he heard a reference to God these days, he felt it in his gut. He wanted to search the depths of her eyes, but she leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees.

“It really doesn’t matter to me who supposedly controls the world,” Aiden said. “I’m simply a man trying to do a job here. Not that I can work right now. By the sound of that wind, we’ll be here for a time, yet. Anything else you want to talk about? Besides other men or God, that is.”

He bounced the bundle of keys out of his cupped hand, caught them in the air, and stood. God-talk always made him nervous. The Christians of his experience had been hypocrites. He peeked through the doorway to her bedroom. Other than a neatly made air bed and stacks of clothing, he saw nothing personal. Unless one was to consider a twenty-pound hammer next to a flashlight as personal.

“I don’t see any board games or a computer. So guess we’ll just keep talking. I’ll start. Did you grow up here in Platteville?”

“I did.” She met his gaze. “But I was born in Omaha.”

“Really? I have an aunt who lives there. What about your parents?” He shouldn’t have asked. Now she’d want to know about his parents. He resettled in the camp chair, stared at the blue, red, and yellow flames through the stove door.

“Imperfect as anyone else’s, I imagine. My real dad left before I formed any memory of him. I don’t like to talk about my stepdad. He and my mom took off after I left home. The family doesn’t know or care where they are. Do your parents live in Minnesota?”

There it was. Aiden wouldn’t get into his father’s abandonment. “My mother was my whole world. She was killed in a car accident when I was thirteen. Dad’s sister, my Aunt Elgene, lived with us. She was a great influence, until my father remarried.”

And I’ll always be thankful to Aunt Elgene for saving my butt when she cared for me while the folks were in Alaska.

“I’m so sorry, Aiden.” Her voice was so soft he had to lean forward to hear.

He was done talking about the parent topic. “Let’s talk wolf.”

“Isn’t the whole lone wolf thing romanticized?”

“Pretty much. Wolves are meant to be part of a pack. This wolf of yours won’t find his reason for living until he finds a mate. I’m guessing he’s an omega that didn’t fit the comedic role, and now he wants to be an alpha. Or he wants to be an alpha, but wasn’t strong enough to threaten the existing one. Then again, they’re unpredictable.”

“Wow. You know a lot about wolves.”

He fidgeted, but left his keys alone. “Not because I was interested or had personal experience. My father is a wolf biologist.”

“That explains it. So do you think Lakota needs to find a mate?”

“There’s your romance if you want to get fanciful. He’s probably looking for like company. It takes a pack to bring down large game. I don’t believe there will be any major livestock loss for the farmers around here. Yet. Fawns left alone won’t be safe with a wolf around. That doesn’t mean farmers won’t raise a stink once word is out.”

“Did you find anything significant before the weather blew in? Any sign of Lakota this morning?”

“Found a turkey carcass, or I should say, clumps of feathers. But I think the wolf is staying clear of me. Once we tag him, we’ll keep track of his whereabouts by the radio collar.”

“I saw him this morning. I had a little help with naming him Lakota, but I’ll get into that later.” She beamed him a full wattage smile that hit him in the solar plexus. “I like the idea that you said we. He might approach me, but it would take both of us to get a collar on him!”

“Actually, the we I’m hoping for is help from Game and Parks. But we’re short-staffed at the moment.”

He rose again, started to pace. Even with the hint of wood smoke and the underlying smell of moldy decay from the back rooms, he could smell Beth. She was fresh spring in person.

And her touch was still branded on his back.

 

****

 

Beth’s insides had been fluttery and nervous ever since her fingers grazed Aiden’s back. Had he felt it, too? That zing was still there. She’d folded her hands between her knees, trying to get rid of the tingle, but the connection remained.

It didn’t help that she had imagined being held by him.

Even though the Lord fulfilled her deepest longings, she still yearned for a human touch, the assurance she could be wanted for the right reasons.

She jumped up from her chair, as antsy as Aiden for something to do. She’d been tempted by too many men. Didn’t want to go there. He was a decent enough guy, but too much was as stake for her to be so attracted.

Attraction. Could that be the reason he was restless?

“Would you mind bringing in a couple logs?” She didn’t give him the chance to answer. She yanked his coat off the chair and turned, arms outstretched. Aiden was so close in the small room, leaning forward and invading her space, that her knuckles hit him in the sternum. Awareness of his body heat, his nearness, awakened her nerve endings.

He bent nearer still. She smelled the chocolate on his breath. He pulled her towards him until only her hands fisted in the folds of his coat separated them.

In slow motion, he lowered his head. Only his strong arm supporting her back kept her from falling. She raised her face degree by degree, trying to concentrate on his sparkling, multi-colored brown eyes. But then she saw only his lips as he drew closer. His smell came close to intoxicating her. She was a goner. Aiden tasted as good as he smelled, earthy. Like fresh new leaves, wood, straight-from-the-trees outdoors, and a little smoky from her own fire.

Meeting his lips was as familiar as a recurring dream, yet as frightening as a nightmare.

His arms pulled her to him. The coat sighed to the floor.

She felt her hands encircle his neck as though they had a mind of their own. In Aiden’s arms, Beth felt as fragile as a sapling fighting for survival during the spring storm.

He pulled back. Had he felt what she did at their explosive connection?

She kept her eyes closed, and concentrated on savoring the moment as she felt his warm breath on her face.

The reality of being in Aiden’s arms was an exaggeration of any white-knight fantasy. His arms again obliterated the outside world.

Her whole body jolted at the intensity of their next kiss. The pressure of his lips deepened and swept her away. Sanity eventually returned. Beth turned her head and pushed on his shoulders. Did he react the way she had, with spots and flashes behind her eyelids? Would she reveal too much of those fireworks when she opened her eyes? She didn’t want him to view her as vulnerable.

“I’ve tried to imagine how you would taste.” He reached for her hands and lowered them in his. “You are the real deal, Ms. Beth Phillips.”

No. I’m all mixed up.

Lord, why would you bring someone like Aiden into my life when I’ve had such a weakness for men in the past?

That old looking-for-love-in-all-the-wrong-places phrase hit her full force. Now that she was a Christian, she had no business becoming interested in a man who, by all indications, didn’t share her faith. She took two giant steps backward, until she felt a camp chair against her leg.

But space between them meant nothing. Aiden had slid under her defenses and rattled her solitary foundation.

“I’ll help keep your wolf safe,” he rasped as he bent to retrieve his coat. “Keep your Lakota safe.”

His pronouncement rocked her to the marrow.

As his promise to help the wolf sank in, her mouth remained open. Before she could formulate a response, he shut the door behind him.

 

****

 

Beth battled a storm within. She paced. The raging wind sounded ominous as it warred through the treetops.

She’d returned to Platteville to escape a man’s brutality. She was sequestered in a cabin cut off from neighbors so she could spend time with the Lord and discover His will for her future. And bingo, what occupied her thoughts? A man. Rather, a particular man and the way his kisses unbalanced her equilibrium.

Why in the world had Aiden closed in on her that way?

Their isolation? Their conversation and admission of what scared them?

He couldn’t possibly be as conflicted by their kisses as she.

And what possessed her to respond? Was she lonely, after all? At that idea, she resumed her seat.

Maybe he was just bored, and that’s why he’d initiated the contact. She had a cure for their boredom. She knew just what they could do as they waited out the storm. She laughed out loud at the idea of handing him tools in order to demolish back rooms of the cabin.

Conflicted or bored, he said he was going to check on something. But he hadn’t returned since he replenished the stack of wood inside the cabin.

She fought jittery agitation, too revved up over that kiss to settle at first. Then she relaxed. A huge crackle followed by a booming crash yanked her straight out of the chair where she’d been nodding off.

Beth knew without flicking a switch the power was out. The loss of light took care of her demolition plans. Without sufficient light they couldn’t tear into the other bedroom.

She bundled up and stepped outside to check on what was taking Aiden so long. She blew a huge exhalation that turned to vapor in the air. Snow crunched beneath her heavy boots. Icy pellets of wind-driven snow slapped her in the face. The wooden porch groaned in protest when she stepped on the frozen surface.

She leaned around one edge of the porch and peered to the side of the cabin. No sign of fire caused by a fallen tree on power lines.

Blowing snow swirled into a drift three feet high off the other end of the porch. She watched her step so she wouldn’t slide off.

Beneath the howling wind, she thought she heard movement in the closest brush. Seeing nothing unusual, she concluded the noise must have come from a small creature huddled for safety from the storm.

She ventured off the front of the narrow porch, where her flashlight beam caught the swirling snow. The maelstrom was mesmerizing; she felt drawn into the center of a giant spider mum, where wind-tossed tentacles pulled the eye towards the thick, white center.

Her truck was buried under white. But there was no matching mound. Aiden’s Jeep was gone. In the world of swirling white, she could barely tell where it had been parked. Any tracks the Jeep tires left were now indistinguishable.

He took off? Why would he leave like that?

Concern for his safety turned into a prayer. “Lord, that man and his four-by-four could get stuck in a snowstorm as easily as any other. Please watch over him, wherever he is.”

She swiveled to retrace her steps and lost her footing just short of the porch. She slid to the ground before she completed the thought of where Aiden may have gone.

Careless woman! Out here in a dangerous blizzard all by yourself.

Beth wondered if something was broken. Her chest hurt. Her mind was all muzzy. Tears mingled with snow, melting, then icy on her cheeks.

Finally, she gasped. Mental faculties returned, but her mind continued to spin.

She managed a deep breath from her diaphragm. Wind knocked out of me.

Images of defenseless little Grace haunted her while she traveled through the movement of her feet, legs, back, arms, neck. Everything worked, but she didn’t have the energy to stand.

The space around her filled with the essence of another living being.

She wasn’t alone.

“Aiden?”

Underneath the whoosh of blowing snow, she heard a sound that raised the hairs at her nape. A garbled whoop-whoop dipped low, then rose up the scale. The sound stopped, and changed into a pant and huff.

Beth turned her head, and flashed her yellow light on the wolf’s gold eyes. The mirrored reflection turned them red for a nanosecond. Lakota lowered himself to the ground, a hair’s breadth beyond the reach of her fingers.

Her mind cleared. She realized those interesting noises had come from Lakota. She sensed he conversed with her on some wolf level. The sounds were beyond description. Ethereal, yet wild and comforting, as they transported her away from the cold storm.

Grief slammed into her, preventing her from rising. She totally lost control.

And the only consolation came from a wolf.

Lakota picked up his murmurings. The conversational, soothing tones of the nearby wolf kept her company as she wept.

She had suppressed grief. And she had some major grieving to do. Her childhood was left behind the first night her stepfather entered her room in the middle of the night.

Grace’s appearance in the woods had brought it all forward.

It was suddenly too much. She broke down. She curled into the fetal position. The anguish came from the depths of her soul as she let it all out. She wrapped her arms around her knees, buried her face in her thighs.

Beth needed to grieve for the teenager she never got to be. She wept for the absence of the Lord during her crazy years of teen life, when those days were supposed to be carefree. The emotional epiphany brought a flood of tears. She wept for the presence of the Lord, thankful for her deep-seated joy in the midst of painful memory. “Thank You, Lord, for the assurance of my future in heaven.”

Lakota came to his feet. She heard the muffled sound of a motor off in the distance. Maybe she imagined it. The wind roared through the woods and howled around the cabin.

Car lights flickered through the trees. Soon, she heard Aiden call. What had he said? It sounded like “E-yellow.”

At least, Beth thought it was Aiden. His voice sounded far away because of the howling wind. She straightened her stiff legs, and tilted her head towards the cabin.

Her movements and Aiden’s arrival caused Lakota to back off.

Aiden must have glimpsed them through the swirling snow. In seconds, he knelt at her side. “Beth, talk to me. Are you hurt?”

She avoided his concern, feeling embarrassed by her carelessness. She held up her arm, stretched until their fingertips touched. “Has anyone ever teased you about your accent?”

“I dint know I had dhat,” he exaggerated, hauling her to her feet. “You must be all right if you can make jokes. Besides, it sounds to me like Nebraskans have an accent. But I’ve become used to your strong consonants.”

Beth wanted to smile, to give him a good come-back remark, but her head felt like she’d had a cold for a week. “Jokes aside, I slipped and fell. Now I’m freezing.”

“You sure you didn’t hurt anything?” His arm felt heavy, but warm across her shoulders.

“Just my pride.” She turned to the wolf. “Good boy, Lakota. Thanks for keeping me company.”

Aiden’s flashlight was the most powerful she had ever seen. Lakota crouched into a stalking stance, drawn to the light where it now rested on the ground.

She found the strength to giggle, and felt better. She needed the release after such an outpouring of emotion. She swiped the moisture from her face. Dumb move to let go and cry. Her flesh felt numb. She wiggled her toes and fingers.

The wolf flicked an ear, still focused on the light.

Aiden spoke in a low voice, “Wouldn’t you like to know what’s going through his mind? You were right. He is curious.”

He made sure she was steady on her feet. He retrieved the light, slanting the beam between Lakota and the porch.

The wolf gave Beth one lingering look, and then disappeared into the snow-encrusted whiteness of the trees.

“If it wasn’t crazy weather, would we follow him?”

“Maybe. Right now I’m not concerned about where the wolf is headed. My guess is you are freezing.” Aiden squeezed her shoulders as though the gesture would warm her. But she felt scorched through the layers of their coats. “And I brought food from town.”

“Oh, a peace offering. I can’t believe you took off like that.”

“I should have told you. It was a spur-of-the-moment decision. Visibility is next to zero in spots, but I only broke through drifts a couple feet in a few places.”

“So, what did you bring to eat?” she asked at the door.

“Hot pot roast sandwiches.”

“Aah, Today’s Café special of the day smells wonderful.” She looked forward to what Aiden would next reveal within the confines of the cabin.

 

****

 

Aiden called himself a jerk. He couldn’t tell her he was running from his reaction to their kiss, rather than her. “What do you use for a table around here?”

“Got it covered.”

Aiden paid no mind to where Beth went while he set the bag of food in a camp chair, and searched for a place to set the light.

“I’ve only used the one room since I first moved in.” She spoke from behind the bedroom door where a heavy grating sounded. “You haven’t seen my table.”

Beth’s backside appeared on the other side of the door. Arms extended, bent at the waist, she wrestled what looked like an old firewood box.

He rushed to the doorway, but she waved a foot for him to stay back.

“I got it. Look out, or we’ll plow you over.” She gave another tug. The antique moved a few more inches.

“What in the world is it?”

“My grandmother’s trunk.”

Beth’s independence reminded Aiden of his niece or nephew’s “I can do it myself!”

He let her heft the thing through the door. When she raised her head and grinned at him, she looked like she was growing in stature to match her inner determination to heave the thing through. Her spirit may overrule her physical size, but enough was enough.

“I know you’re a tough carpenter lady,” he said with a headshake, “but I’ll get it from here.”

She didn’t argue when he slid the monstrosity in front of the chairs. He busied himself taking Styrofoam boxes from the sack, and opening the package of flatware and napkins. Then he repositioned the flashlight so it angled on their food.

When he straightened, she stood in the opposite doorway, drying her hands. She let the towel fly, and he took it in the chest.

“I know where things are, so I washed up in the dark. But you can use this.” She yanked her small flashlight from her back pocket and handed it to him. “Sink’s through the door and to the right. Don’t fall over anything.”

He figured she couldn’t see his nod as he reached for the light. He wrinkled his nose on the other side of the threshold, and was glad he couldn’t see what lay beyond the weak glow from the light in his hand. The fetid mold and odor of mice attacked his nostrils, enough to tell him she had her work cut out for her.

“How long do you think it’ll take to finish cleaning this place out?” he called while he ran cold water into the sink from the faucet marked HOT.

Maybe if they spent time talking, he’d quit wanting to kiss her again.

He had known it was risky, driving to town in white-out conditions. But their kiss had unnerved him. So he escaped. As soon as he’d found his way out of the clearing, thoughts of Beth almost drew him back. Aside from a high school crush, no other woman had invaded his mind as Ms. Beth Phillips Todd Littlefield Phillips had.

Thoughts back on task, he shut off the icy water, and left the wadded towel on the edge of the sink. A quick scan with the light revealed a water tank, but no heater. She must heat water on the stove when she needed it.

“So what’s in the trunk?” he asked as he re-entered the warm room. She had moved her camp chair to the opposite side of the stove, with the makeshift table between the chairs. He sat and grabbed his food at the same time.

“It’s a handkerchief collection, some from old estate sales, and many that my grandmother embroidered herself. They are the only things I have to remind me of her. I’m trying to come up with a creative way to preserve them. One of the Frivolities women will help me. I’ve thought about making angels from some of them. Is your gravy hot enough? I could warm it on the stove if you like.”

He stuffed a glop of mashed potato and gravy in his mouth. “’S fine. I’m starved.”

Beth took a dainty bite, and he almost choked when he wondered how the meeting of their lips would taste now. He covered a cough and concentrated on his food.

She intrigued him, he reluctantly admitted. No doubt she’d led a colorful past, was involved with more men than he’d ever want to know about.

“Lanae, one of the Frivolities owners, plans to help me mend the handkerchiefs with crocheted trim,” Beth announced around a mouthful of beef.

It was clear to him when she’d been surrounded in Frivolities those people must have forgiven past events. They accepted Beth, or they wouldn’t trust her to work in the shop.

She had the strength and determination to put the past behind her. To discover how her life changed so drastically nearly blew him away. The driver’s license picture said it all, along with all those last names. She had him churned up, couldn’t get his mind off their kisses.

How to describe her taste? Authentic. Did such a thing exist in a kiss? Her wholesome down-to-earth genuineness stunned him every time he considered who she must have once been. Was it a façade or could he really trust her for who she appeared to be?

“Aiden. Earth to Aiden. What are you thinking? I’m trying to tell you about my treasured collection here.”

“Sorry, zoned out fer sure.” No way would he tell her where his head had been. He concentrated on the rest of his meal, chewing and swallowing with intent. “Finish up and then we’ll talk.”

She nodded and grinned, sat up proper and prim, then shoveled in a bite of beef and gravy the size a trucker would envy.

The little imp stole his appetite. He wiped his mouth, fisted the napkin into the box, and closed it.

He said the first thing that cropped up. “I was stunned, seeing the wolf so close to you again. It’s like he comes out of nowhere. When I saw you on the ground like that, my mind iced up at the idea you were badly injured. The way you were crying tore at my guts.”

“Aiden, I was fine. I am fine. I just had the breath knocked out of me. And then I don’t know what hit me, but memories and emotions overwhelmed me. I must have needed that cry.”

The only sound in the cabin came from the crackling fire in the woodstove.

“I was feeling guilty when I found you on the ground.” He lowered his voice. “Before I reached you I was already beating myself up for leaving you in the middle of a blizzard.”

The wind had given way to an eerie quiet.

“Why did you? I still can’t believe you took off. Especially without telling me.”

“Sorry. I guess the thought of food wiped out everything else that made sense.”

She nodded, cocked her head in a listening pose. “No wind now, the storm must have died out.” Her lovely face was shadowed in the dim light provided by the weakening glow of the flashlight. “How was I to know I’d slip and fall? As soon as I realized I could move every body part, I wasn’t scared.”

He scrubbed his hand over his face. “What made you cry, then?”

Beth didn’t answer. She jumped up and cleared the to-go boxes. She put the trash in a covered can, brought bottled water from the bedroom, and regained her seat. Was she avoiding her emotions the same way he had tried to run from his? He was still coming down from the rush of adrenaline. Events picked up speed as he back-pedaled through emotional upheaval.

The memory, the power of their kiss told him he was beginning to care about this woman. He’d hightailed off in reaction. Then came the fleeting seconds when he found the wolf near and feared for Beth so much he’d broken into a sweat. Finding her lying on the ground with the wolf near again, and the sound of her wrenching sobs, had torn into him.

Was his heart in trouble here? He’d ignore it. He couldn’t afford to care. He wouldn’t be in town any longer than it took to get the wolf settled.

His mind returned to the cozy room. He studied Beth as she leaned forward and rolled the bottle of water between her palms, where her hands dangled in front of her knees. “I met a little girl in the woods earlier. Her name is Grace. I think she is being abused.”

“Come again?” He shifted his weight in the camp chair. “How do you know? Did she say she’d been hurt?”

Beth recounted the meeting. He couldn’t help but remember the news article description of Barton Littlefield. And that he had sent Beth to the hospital.

“You empathized with the little girl in the woods. You know what abuse is all about. Sounds like your ex could have killed you. You are obviously in the process of putting it behind you, but you are sensitive to others in the same situation.”

“He would have killed me.” When she finally stopped talking, she guzzled the whole bottle of water.

“It’s understandable why you are drawn to the girl.” He couldn’t keep it to himself any longer. “I have a confession to make, Beth. I researched the Littlefield name.”

Barton Littlefield had four months remaining on his sentence for assault.

She jumped up, threw her empty bottle in the direction of the trash can. She sucked in her gut and stood taller. But she stared off into a dark corner, rather than meet his eye. “Then you know all the dirty little details.”

The ragged indignation in her voice sent a chill up Aiden’s spine, equal to melting the outside temperature. “Just how badly did the buzzard hurt you?”