Her Mountain Sanctuary

Faith rushed forward and the man slid backward before his feet regained purchase on the slippery bank and he heaved himself upward again. Taking hold of his wet jacket, Faith set her feet and leaned back, counterbalancing the man as he made his way up and over. She staggered sideways as he regained his footing on the muddy road.

He was big and broad and once he had his balance, he towered over her. Just as that guy in the parking lot had before he’d spun her around and knocked her down.

Faith’s chest constricted. For one long moment, she and Drew Miller faced off in the lights of the ATV.

Move. Say something.

Instead she stared at him as the rain pelted her face.

“I’m not going to hurt you.” He stepped backward and one of his knees buckled, snapping her back to her senses.

Of course he wasn’t going to hurt her. “Can you get in on your own?” She pointed at the ATV and he gave a slow nod before advancing. She pulled her phone out of her pocket and he stopped.

“What are you doing?”

“Calling dispatch.”

“No.”

He spoke adamantly and Faith lowered the phone. “I already called them. I promised an update.”

“No ambulance.”

“I can take you to the hospital,” she said, assuming it was the cost that had him concerned.

“No hospital.”

“Do you want me to leave you here?” she snapped.

He angled his head as if discerning whether he’d heard her correctly. “I’d appreciate a ride to my place. It’s a couple of miles up the road.”

“Fine.” Faith wiped the water off her face. She wasn’t about to try to force him to seek medical care. She’d take him home. Drop him off. Hope that he didn’t have a concussion or something.

Once they were both in the close confines of the side-by-side and Sully was in the open cargo space at the rear, she put the vehicle in gear and headed up the road, weaving in and around the ruts. “What happened?”

“Deer.”

She gripped the wheel tighter. A couple of miles. She could do this. It wasn’t as if he was her attacker. Just a close physical facsimile...and, maybe because she was in the role of rescuer, her tension seemed more directed toward the shock of the accident rather than knee-jerk fear. She maneuvered around a corner and then another. He lived at the end of a very windy road. “I know the hospital is out, but do you want me to call your family? Tell them what happened?”

“I’ll do it.”

Faith forced herself to release her death grip on the steering wheel. Just another mile. Then you can breathe. Go back home. Climb into the tub. Drink your wine...

“Thank you.”

The words surprised her and it took her a couple seconds to say, “Not a problem.”

“I think it is.”

She frowned but resisted the urge to look at him. They covered the last mile in total silence, rounding one final corner before the headlights of the ATV illuminated a very small cabin with a metal shop building next to it. The shop dwarfed the cabin.

“Cozy,” she murmured. It couldn’t have more than three rooms, tops. Her money was on two.

“It’s home,” he spoke as he climbed out of the ATV.

She nodded, waiting for him to start toward his dark house, her nerves humming with the anticipation of escape.

“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t tell my sister about this.”

Faith was about to tell him that she didn’t see any way around telling Debra, when he swayed a little. “Are you okay?”

“Fine.” He abruptly turned, started for the cabin. He made it almost three feet before he crumpled into a heap in the muddy driveway.

“Blast.” Faith jumped out of the ATV and raced to him. She used both hands to take hold of his broad shoulder and roll him over so that he didn’t drown in the mud puddle he’d landed in.

He let out a groan as he flopped onto his back.

Okay. He was breathing. And he was done calling the shots. She pulled the phone out of her pocket, water beading on the screen as she punched in 911. “I need an ambulance at the top of the Trestle Road.” She answered the dispatcher’s rapid-fire questions and was assured that a deputy was on his way.

“No ambulance,” Drew muttered from where he lay.

“An ambulance will follow,” the dispatcher said.

She hung up without asking if she could move him. She was going to do it anyway. He couldn’t lie in a mud puddle until help arrived and he’d already moved quite a bit under his own steam.

“If I help you, can you get up?”

He nodded, grimacing, and rolled over to bring himself up to his hands and knees. Faith crouched close to him, taking hold of his arm. She braced herself as he put his weight on her and slowly got to his feet. He swayed again, but Faith kept him from going down.

“Is your house locked?”

“Key under the mat.”

“Very original,” Faith murmured. As they made the slow journey through the mud, she supported less and less of his weight and by the time they reached the small, two-post porch, he was walking on his own. But Faith noted that he did not bend to retrieve the spare key and that he took firm hold of the post as she unlocked the door. Sully remained next to her, pushing his way into the cabin before Faith stepped inside. He wasn’t going to allow her to be alone with Drew, and his presence gave her a small measure of security.

She flipped on a light switch as Drew followed her and Sully inside, but nothing happened.

“The storm must have knocked out the power,” she said.

“I don’t have power.”

Her eyes widened. “No power?”

“Generator.” He stepped over to a box next to the light switch and pushed a button. Lights flickered a few times, then lit as the machine outside roared to life. She glanced around the cabin—so it was three rooms. A combined kitchen and living room with a back exit and two interior doors. A half loft. The place was old, the floorboards warped. The kitchen barely had any counter space or cabinetry. A rustic, minimalist place that somehow seemed to fit the man living here.

“You live with that sound?”

“No.” He pressed his hand to his head as if the answer had cost him.