Page 14 of Cabin Fever

Carter dropped my things and rubbed his face. I knew he wouldn't last much longer. It was his habit to scratch some part of his head when he was at his limit. I never meant to push him that far but there was something about it that I enjoyed.

It was wrong of me; I knew that but the way he clenched his jaw and his muscles tightened—especially in his arms—made my heart jump around my chest. I was raised better than to taunt someone. But Carter wasn't like anyone I had ever met.

He was like a puzzle.

The man was irritable most of the time, except when he was around his animals. There were twelve sheep, or ewes as he called them, and he coddled them as if they were his babies.

I was given the barnyard tour the first time the truck wouldn't start—nine long days ago. He explained that if I was stuck here, I might as well help out. Which I didn't mind. It made sense.

Not only did he love his sheep, but when it came to the hierarchy in this cabin, I was below Kitty. I loved dogs too but they'redogs. I would never treat a guest worse than my pet.

Then there was me. Almost anything out of his mouth directed at me was a command or complaint. But that wasn't the puzzling part. I would catch him from time to time staring at me. The way he gazed at my body was confusing. His eyes sunk into my flesh as if he were a starving wolf, and I was one of his sheep.

By my estimate, he rarely saw women. Being one of those hermit-type people, all by himself up here on the mountain, I suspected he might be a virgin. Which would explain his surly behavior and lack of understanding on how to treat his fellow humans.

"You want breakfast? There's some on the table. I made your favorite . . . bacon."

There was something about how he said bacon that had me suspicious. His wolfish grin was back, but he wasn't eyeing my ass this time. He stared at me as if he knew there was a killer right outside the bedroom door ready to get rid of his unwelcome guest.

Maybe he was finally treating me with some respect. Maybe he just wanted me to enjoy his food. The man loved to cook, at least I think he loved it. Carter was good at cooking and took pride in his meals. He was always boasting to Kitty about trying new things with his potatoes.

I learned quickly to serve myself and keep my own company. Whenever I asked about his life here at the cabin, he grew quiet. It was quickly obvious that Kitty was his conversation partner, not me.

I pushed back the covers at the mention of meat candy but eyed him with suspicion. "Fine. After I eat, I'll get dressed and come out to the barn."

His lips twitched as I stood and put on his old boots, which I used as make-shift slippers. The floor was cold and even the thick socks Carter let me use weren't warm enough to protect me from the chill.

"How about I add some wood to the fire, would you like that, too?"

Surprise stopped me at the door. I turned just outside the bedroom and stared. "Why are you being so nice? You hate talking to me."

And as for the wood, he's like the Ebenezer Scrooge of heating.

"You're my guest. I thought about it yesterday after the ninth failed attempt at starting the truck. You don't want to be here any more than I want you here."

I frowned, noticing he was keeping count. I was too, but I didn't live here. This wasn't my home. I had something to miss . . . he didn't.

Not that I missed Washington, DC. It was home, but I traveled so much my whole life, I felt at home in most places. I did miss Bea though.

Despite not knowing how to do much, I discovered I enjoyed helping out, even with the sheep. Carter took care of all the gross stuff, like cleaning the poop and old hay off the floor. I actually threw up a little in my mouth when I witnessed that the other day.

What I liked was learning how to take care of the sheep, what they ate, when to let them graze, and how they had a hierarchy.

The animals fascinated me.

"At least it's not snowing. Maybe the cold snap will end soon and then the cleared roads won't be solid ice anymore. Then I can head back to The Lodge and buy a plane ticket back to Washington, DC. Back home." I tried my best to grin, but I could feel myself giving into the defeat Carter had felt from day one.

I was ecstatic three days ago when it finally stopped snowing. The sun came out, and I thought for sure the next day the truck would start or the phone would work but nothing had happened. Now, it's colder than it was during the storm. According to his thermometer on the side of the house, it was well below zero.

I won't ever have a destination wedding again during the winter at the tippy top of a mountain—unless that mountain was on a Caribbean island.

"You're from DC?" Carter said with a sneer.

I rolled my eyes. If he had anything resembling a conversation with me the past week and a half, he'd know where I was from by now. I guess I wasn't a charmer like Kitty.

I nodded. "Yeah. You ever been to our nation's capital?"

The way he reacted to my hometown made me suspect that he must have ridden the metro there on a vacation. I don't blame him. It's not a fun time.

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