In The Arms Of A Stranger

He flexed his free hand, wishing for the familiar feel of the radio, for the chance to call for backup. And to check her story, he admitted. He lifted the cell phone from the floor where it lay among the spilled contents of the diaper bag and optimistically pressed the power button. The phone came to life, its face illuminating in the dim lighting of the storage room. Luke cast a questioning glance at Dana.

“I couldn’t get through earlier when I tried. Maybe the mountains, maybe the storm…”

Luke punched in the number for the police station and hit the send button. Nothing happened for a few seconds and then the familiar no-connection tone sounded. “Still nothing,” he announced.

His shoulder muscles tensed beneath the thin fabric of his shirt, reacting to the cold in a painful spasm. There was nothing more bone-chilling than an empty house, no matter what shelter it offered. Luke looked at Dana and the baby. Dana’s jeans were encrusted in mud and melting snow, as his were. And the baby just looked vulnerable as hell. Without a means to call for help, they were stuck for the night. He had no intention of spending it shivering in a supply closet.

“Do you know how to use a gun?”

Dana’s eyes widened in response to his question. “I—I did a segment once on personal protection. The instructor at the range showed me how to shoot the targets.” She shook her head and Luke noticed she was making an effort to breathe slowly. “It was just for the camera.”

Luke grinned. “How’d you do?”

The corners of her mouth twitched slightly. “Pretty good for a city girl.”

My God, she almost smiled. Luke had a feeling that didn’t happen often, even under better circumstances. “Good.” Luke noticed that Dana held the baby in the crook of her left arm, propping the bottle with the same hand, which left her right hand free. He laid the gun on the floor and gently slid it toward her. “I’m going to leave this with you while I—”

“No.” She shook her head. “Please don’t. Don’t leave me.”

“Shh…” Luke placed his hand on her knee, absently caressing her leg beneath his discarded jacket while he spoke. “The temperature is dropping, and we’re stuck here for the night. We’re going to need a way to stay warm. The good news is, the porch light was on, so I know there’s an electrical feed.” He gestured behind her at a dusty space heater. “I just need to find the fuse box and switch the circuit breaker. If that doesn’t work, I’ve got to see if there’s any firewood.”

“No—you can’t build a fire. He’ll see the smoke. He’ll know where we are.”

“He already knows where we are, Dana.”

She went perfectly still, but her eyes registered fear so deep that Luke regretted the words. “Look, whoever is out there can’t stay out there in this storm for long. He’ll freeze to death before he gets another chance at us. We’re safe here.”

Dana looked around her, as if considering where she was for the first time. “What is this place?”

“An old forest ranger’s station. They gave me a key a couple of years back when they built a new observation tower. It’s no longer used.” He smiled, for some reason determined to see the worry lines disappear from her face. “At least not normally.”

“How far are we from town?”

Luke shook his head. “Too far to walk, which is the only option right now.”

“Your car…”

“Is in a ditch up the road.” He experimented with another smile. “Lucky for you.”

She returned the smile, then her face went serious. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Right place at the right time. What are you doing on the mountain, anyway?”

She looked uncertain. “Vacationing.”

Luke nodded, though suspicion hit him like a fist. “Take the gun and level it at the doorway.”

Dana pulled the baby more tightly against her chest. “I can’t.”

Luke looked down at the infant’s face. He’d fallen asleep, oblivious to the danger around him, the bottle nipple now slack against his lips.

“Yes, you can.” Luke nodded toward the baby. “Besides, I left my four-legged partner out in the cold. I need to check on him, at least.”

Dana crooned softly as she eased the bottle from the baby’s mouth. Her expression was hopeful when she looked up. “A police dog?”

“No, an ornery old Lab. But he’s as big as a pony and barks like he means business. Besides, he likes kids and beautiful women.”

Where had that comment come from? He’d intended to lighten the mood, to see her relax, but he’d caught himself off guard instead. The wary expression on Dana’s face told him he wasn’t the only one who wished he’d kept the comment to himself.

Luke retrieved the coiled hose from the supply room floor and molded it into an oval shape. “Here. Use my jacket and lay him inside.”

Dana pulled the supple leather jacket from her knees and folded the baby inside. He barely stirred when she laid him inside the makeshift cradle, only nuzzled contentedly against the lining of Luke’s jacket.

Dana lifted the gun but looked at it as if it were a snake. “I don’t think I can do this.”

“You have to.” He took her by the upper arm and turned her toward the baby. “Unless you want to freeze to death and leave this little guy alone.”

Anger and determination flashed on her face as she pulled her arm free. “Okay.”

Just the reaction he’d been hoping for. “I’ll leave the flashlight with you. I have a lighter.” Luke stood when she nodded. “Keep the gun focused on the door. I’ll try and alert you when I—”

“Just say my name.” She interrupted. “I’ll know your voice.”

Luke nodded and disappeared through the doorway, leaving Dana alone. What she’d said was true. She could pick that deep, captivating voice out of a crowded room. Maybe it was the tense circumstances, but that voice had the power to soothe her, to irritate her and, if she were honest with herself, make her want to crawl into the shelter of his arms.

Power. The word stuck in her brain as she rested her wrist on her knee and, with a trembling hand, pointed the gun toward the empty door frame. Hadn’t she learned a thing or two in the last year and a half about giving up her power? But this was hardly the same as her marriage to Robert. Luke had just given her the power of his weapon and, with barely a word of instruction, trusted her not to blast him to kingdom come with it.

Time passed. Five minutes. Ten?

“Dana…”

The sound of Luke’s voice made her jump. She hadn’t heard him enter the cabin. “Yes,” she responded, lowering the gun.

“It’s us.”

Us? This time she heard a shuffle, heard the gentle sound of the cabin’s door closing and the unmistakable click-click of canine paws against the wooden floor. Big brown eyes suddenly peered around the doorway, framed by a golden muzzle and inquisitive eyebrows. Dana laid the gun on the floor and fought the overwhelming urge to cry. There was something so entirely welcoming about the presence of the dog. Something so normal that she wanted to fling her arms around his big neck and squeal with delight like a child.

Luke appeared, resting his hand against the dog’s head in an easy gesture. “Sam, this is Dana. Dana, this is Sam.”

“Hi, Sam,” she whispered, her voice betraying the emotion.

When she looked up, she found Luke watching her again. Assessing her. The expression on his face was neutral, but his eyes said something else. He looked at her as if she were a puzzle with half its pieces missing. She thought of the broken mess her once-orderly life had become, and shivered. Maybe he was right.

“Good news.” He stepped inside the supply room and pulled the chain on an overhead fixture. The single lightbulb came to life, its glow barely brighter than the flashlight.

With the light, Dana could see that snow dusted his shoulders, darkening his black shirt as it melted. He’d sacrificed his jacket for the baby’s sake.

He reached around Dana and retrieved the space heater. “I’ll be right back. Sam—” he looked behind him at the dog, then gestured toward Dana “—stay here.”