Within the space of five minutes she heard the sound of tires crunching against the snow and ice in the driveway. A blue-and-white cruiser quickly came into view, illuminated by the glowing porch light. Once the car pulled up in front of the cabin, she watched as none other than Sheriff Boone Prescott emerged from the cruiser. She’d recognize those broad shoulders of his anywhere. In all her life she didn’t think she’d ever been happier to see anyone. In the face of this crisis, he seemed even bigger and broader and manlier than he’d appeared to be earlier this afternoon.

He tipped his sheriff’s hat at her. “Third time I’ve seen you today, Miss Corbett. I’m getting a strong suspicion you missed me.”

Annoyance flooded her. “Can you please stop calling me Miss Corbett? My name is Grace. You make me sound like someone’s spinster aunt. And might I add that your ego is in rare form, Sheriff Prescott. I called your office because of the creature in my cabin, not in order to see you again.”

He chuckled, seemingly amused by her mild outrage. “If I’m to call you Grace, you’re going to have to call me Boone.”

She nodded. Boone. The name fit him. It was manly and rugged and strong. Just like the sheriff himself. “Okay. Boone it is. Although I’d love to exchange more pleasantries, there’s a creature inside,” she said curtly. “And it’s g

etting mighty cold out here.” She wrapped her arms around her middle, her teeth beginning to chatter. Why hadn’t she grabbed her coat? Oh, yeah. She’d been afraid of being eaten alive.

He knit his brows together. “A creature? Can you be more specific?”

Grace shivered. It was freezing out here, and the thought of the critter inside her cabin was making her feel a little crazy. What if it was rummaging through all her things and tearing up her clothes? Or ripping apart her favorite pair of shoes?

The sheriff shrugged off his jacket and draped it around her back and shoulders. “Thank you,” she murmured as a woodsy scent assailed her senses.

“The creature,” he prodded, his eyes dark and probing.

“It was big and black...and it hissed at me. I saw teeth...huge, white teeth. Fangs, I believe. And I saw a flash of white, so it may have been foaming at the mouth.”

“A big, black, hissing, foaming-at-the-mouth creature?” Boone flung the question at her in a skeptical manner. His perfectly shaped lips twitched.

She put her hands on her hips and made a huffing sound. “Yes. That’s exactly right. I know what I saw. It’s engrained in my mind.”

“Why don’t you go sit in my cruiser where it’s warm while I check things out? Wouldn’t want you to freeze to death on your first night in town.”

She didn’t want to be safely ensconced in Boone’s cruiser while a story was unfolding mere feet away from her. As a journalist, it simply wasn’t her way. She wanted to be where the action was taking place, in the event she needed to write about it later. Plus, she had every faith in Boone’s ability to keep her safe from being mauled or attacked. Faith. It was funny to feel the first stirrings of faith after going so long without it. “I’ll stay right behind you, if that’s okay,” she said.

The sheriff’s eyes widened almost imperceptibly, but he nodded and walked toward her cabin door. He wrenched the door open and strode inside, flipping the light on as he entered.

“Where did you last see it?” he asked in a low voice. His eyes were darting all over the room, his body primed for action.

She pointed a shaking finger in the direction of the russet couch. “There. It went under there.” She moved backward a few steps until she was standing next to the open door. If things went south at least she would have an escape hatch.

Boone went over to the couch and rattled it with both hands. Despite the shaking, nothing emerged. He got down on his knees and peered under the sofa. The side of his face was pressed against the hardwood floors.

“Be careful!” she cried out. She’d watched enough episodes of When Animals Attack to know that this could end badly.

Dear Lord, please don’t let any harm come to the sheriff. Or to me. I’m trying to be brave about this Alaska experience, but it’s hard to be strong when there’s a wild animal on the loose in my cabin. And even though Boone was snarky about my shoes this morning, he seems like a good person.

Boone scrambled to his feet and lifted the couch up off the ground, swiveling it as he dropped it down a few feet away. Grace let out a scream as the creature emerged and scooted toward Boone. She watched in horror as he bent down and scooped it up in his arms.

Oddly enough, he seemed as placid as a lake in summer. He hadn’t even flinched.

He sent her a pearly grin. Butterflies fluttered low in her stomach. She wasn’t sure if it was due to Boone’s charm or the unexpected drama unfolding before her eyes. “Grace, meet Primrose. Primrose, this is Grace. She came all the way from New York City, so you can’t camp out in her cabin and scare the daylights out of her.”

“Is that a...skunk?” she asked, noticing for the first time the white stripe trailing down the creature’s back.

“Sure is. She belongs to Hazel. She’s been de-scented, so there’s no risk of being sprayed by her.”

“This is someone’s pet?” Her voice came out squeaky and high-pitched. Boone was patting Primrose on the head and nuzzling her under her chin.

Boone rocked back on the heels of his boots. He appeared to be fighting back a smirk. “Not a pet, exactly, since skunk ownership isn’t legal in Alaska. Hazel has an exhibitor’s license for her. She takes Primrose to schools, wildlife symposiums, fairs and such. She must have gotten loose.”

She craned her neck to get a better look. “She doesn’t bite?”

“She’s domesticated. Hazel raised her from a newborn. Skunks aren’t indigenous to Alaska, but Hazel’s put a lot of love and care into her. She actually rescued her from certain death.”