Page 13 of Shielded Hearts

In the dim light cast by the candle, she saw the single double bed, the saggy mattress sliding off an old iron frame.

One bed. One set of blankets.

What else had the owners lied to her about with their listing?

She blew through the small kitchen and rummaged through the “stocked pantry.”

It was full of expired canned food.

They were stuck. She couldn’t ask Colt to drive to another place, not when he’d already gone so far out of his way to accommodate her.

Hungry and defeated, she turned away from the pantry and stared at the biggest hurdle in this impossible situation.

The bed they would have to share.

Chapter Three

The cabin was one of the worst Colt had ever stayed in, and that was saying a lot when he’d slept with his head in the mud between military skirmishes.

He hauled in two armfuls of split wood and stacked it next to the stove. Aspen had found several more candles and lit up the space enough for him to see it was worse than he imagined.

From the corner of his eye, he threw her a glance. He didn’t know her well, but he’d have to say her silence spoke volumes. Even he had enough of a heart to see how disappointed she was in the place.

While he got a fire going in the stove, Aspen carried her bag into the bedroom. When she emerged wearing thick gray sweats, his gut did something weird.

It tightened.

She was a beautiful woman, and she’d worn that green dress well. But something about Aspen looking undone had his body more awake than it had been in a long time.

“Good thing you’ve got something warm to wear to bed. This place has a lot of drafts.”

“It also has a pantry full of expired food.”

He cocked a brow at her. “Gotta be something in there that’s fit to eat.”

She waved a hand. “I’m not that hungry. I can wait.”

He nodded and returned to arranging logs in the open door of the woodstove. After he got the fire going and some heatrolling out of the old iron, he addressed the next problem: their sleeping arrangements.

When he stepped up to the open bedroom door, his gaze fell over the old bed.

“I’ll take the floor.”

Aspen stood behind him, peering in at the bed with the same reservations he had about sleeping with a stranger.

He disliked people. He preferred to be alone, and there was a good reason for that. His nightmares of war weren’t something that went away. Sleeping in the barn was his way of keeping his family from waking up to his screams at night.

Maybe he should have told Aspen he’d sleep in the truck. But the idea of leaving a woman alone in a cabin rubbed him wrong.

“Sure you don’t want something to eat before bed?” he asked her.

“Let’s just end this day already. I’ve been up for ages.”

He had too, but he was used to it. Seeing bruises of tiredness under each of her eyes pushed him into action. He returned to the front to check the lock and make sure that the woodstove wasn’t going to catch the place on fire with them inside.

Satisfied, he returned to the bedroom.

His gut did that weird thing again.

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