A Hero To Hold

Easing away from him, she forced a smile and met his gaze. “I’m not scared,” she said. “Just a little…unsettled.”

“Unsettled?” He had the gall to look amused. “I’d be pretty damn terrified if I were in your shoes.”

Hannah looked down at her ugly shoes, and felt a helpless laugh bubble up. “You’re just saying that to make me feel better.”

“I never say anything I don’t mean, Red.”

She didn’t doubt it. The man was direct, not to mention intense. At some point, he’d invaded her space again. Her heart was beating way too fast. She needed to swallow, but wasn’t sure her throat could manage it, so she didn’t. Instead, she gazed into his alpine-blue eyes, starkly aware of his size, the intensity of his gaze, and the clean, masculine scent of his aftershave.

“I have to go arrange for a van,” she whispered, stepping back. “Thanks again for the coat.”

He shot a glance toward the window. “There’s snow moving in. Knowing Angela Pearl, she probably doesn’t have tire chains on her van or any other vehicle she owns.”

“You know her?”

“I was a paramedic in Denver a couple of years before I started with Rocky Mountain Search and Rescue. Angela and I go way back. You’ll like her. She runs a decent shelter.” He contemplated her with thoughtful scrutiny. “What do you say we skip the van and I’ll drive you?”

John hadn’t always been such a sucker. He figured he would probably live to regret offering Hannah a ride. But as he’d stared into the depths of her soft eyes, taking in the mix of uncertainty and courage and another emotion he couldn’t quite put his finger on, he knew he wasn’t going to walk away—even if his instincts were screaming for him to do just that.

He’d looked the other way too many times in his life when it came to women in trouble. As a boy, he hadn’t been able to do anything about it. As a man, he knew all too well what he was capable of. He wondered how Hannah would react if she knew what had happened the last time he’d decided to get involved.

John knew what he was. Just as he knew why he felt the constant need to atone for it. And whether being a rescuer was his saving grace—or his fatal flaw—he knew himself far too well not to realize he didn’t have a choice but to help her.