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  “How are you doing back there, Sophie?”

  Sophie didn’t answer, but she was sitting up in the back cargo area and looking over the seat, which Maddy took as a good sign. Technically, she was only fostering the darling dog because the owner still had two days to come forward. But from what Logan had told her, Maddy was pretty sure she was safe in thinking of Sophie as hers.

  “Almost home,” she assured her new best friend.

  She’d barely gotten away from the vet clinic without Jason coming with her. He’d been so certain she would love his company this evening. He’d even generously offered to bring a bottle of wine, which to her meant he figured she’d be pleased as punch to cook dinner for him. And he’d hinted around enough that she understood he wanted the evening to end with the horizontal boogie. And since none of those scenarios was in any way appealing, she was going to have to stop being a coward and make it clear she wanted nothing more than a friendship.

  Not that she had anything against sex, but she didn’t get any sexy tingles when they were together. Not like she got with Logan. All Logan had to do was breathe and sexy tingles were happening all over her body. A wink, a smile, a smoldering gaze, and tingles were usurped by the sexy power surge.

  She heaved a frustrated sigh. She needed to not think about Logan and his sexy tingles, and remember that he’d left her once with devastating consequences, and would undoubtedly leave again. As surprised as she was that he was back in Hangman’s Loss, she didn’t have any illusions that he planned to stay. He’d flat out told her he was selling his cabin and leaving.

  The wind picked up, buffeting her car as she turned into her driveway. She parked and got out, then opened the back door for Sophie, who cautiously jumped down. Her poor baby had stiches and a shaved area around her injury. Maddy was armed with a cone of shame in case Sophie messed with her bandages, but so far, so good. With the dog on a leash, she walked her behind the cabin to an area she had decided would be the poop spot. Sophie sniffed around a couple of trees, and when she squatted and did her business, Maddy felt like her child had won the principal’s award for best behavior.

  “Oh, you are so smart,” she cooed as she stroked her dog. “The smartest dog in the whole wide world.” Sophie gazed at her with soulful brown eyes, her tail swishing back and forth.

  After settling Sophie on her brand-new dog bed, Maddy made her third trip to the car. Her dining table was stacked with food, books and DVDs from the library, dog food and dog paraphernalia. The wind blew branches from the mostly naked aspens to scratch against the roof. Maddy was doubly grateful she had upgraded to double-paned windows to keep out the bitter cold. She wouldn’t be surprised if the snow didn’t start within the hour. She brought more firewood inside, stacking it next to the hearth. Eyeing the pile on the porch, she debated whether to bring up more from the woodshed. Better to be on the safe side.

  From the shed she piled the wheelbarrow full, pushed it to the porch, then made several trips up and down the steps, piling onto the stack there. Even with the steadily dropping temperature the physical activity kept her warm, and now she wouldn’t have to worry about getting to the woodshed once the snow started.

  When she finally came back inside, Sophie rose, eyes bright, and pranced as she approached, Maddy’s purple Converse Chuck in her mouth. “Oh no, best friend. We’re not starting with that.” She pulled a chew (guaranteed to clean a dog’s teeth) from a bag on the counter and offered it. “Drop the shoe, Sophie.” She pointed down. “Drop it.” With deliberate care, Sophie set the shoe on Maddy’s boot-covered toe, then took the chew in trade.

  “Good girl.” Maddy went down on the floor to inspect Sophie’s stitches and deemed everything a-okay. A laugh escaped when the big dog laid her head on Maddy’s lap and looked up with soft eyes, the chew still clamped in her jaws. Maddy wrapped her arms around Sophie’s neck. “Who needs guys, right? I’ve got all the love I need right here.”

  After changing into warm sweats and with thick socks on her feet, she moved around the cabin, straightening a little, listening to the radio. Why was it when a storm was coming she listened obsessively to the news?

  Then she did what she did at least once a day. She moved to the mantel over the fireplace and picked up her favorite photograph in its antique silver frame. God, she’d been so young then, holding her tiny girl. Lily had been four months old, her short, curly hair sable colored, eyes already that shade between gray and blue. “Hello, my baby. Momma misses you.” She touched her lips to the image and set down the picture, acknowledging the grief that was never totally absent.

  After lighting the kindling in her fireplace and throwing on a log, she opted for an early dinner. Sophie ate her meal from her shiny new stainless-steel bowl then followed Maddy into the living room. Maddy sat on the end of the couch, feet curled under her, savoring her bowl of soup and watching out the window as fat snowflakes began swirling to earth from the ever-changing sky. When she set her empty bowl on the coffee table, she considered the dog staring pointedly at her.

  “Okay, we better take a quick walk outside because it’ll only get rougher out there.” She snapped on the leash and led the dog out where Sophie accepted the lavish praise that was due her for peeing on command.

  Before going to bed, Maddy took a final peek outside. Within the reach of the porch light, white flakes eddied against the blackness. Even as she watched, the wind picked up, whipping the snow into flurries, limiting visibility to only a couple of feet. She lugged the dog bed upstairs in the loft, putting it on the floor next to her bed, and mentally added an upstairs dog bed to her shopping list. She crawled under her thick quilt, and Sophie stretched out in her bed with a decidedly contented moan. Bringing Sophie home was the best idea Maddy ever had.

  Maddy woke in the gray of early morning to find dark eyes staring from the side of the bed. A glance at her phone told her it was a few minutes shy of seven. “We can sleep in today, baby, go on back to your bed.”

  Sophie rested her chin on the mattress, gaze unblinking. Maddy groaned. Persuasion wasn’t going to work against a full bladder. She rolled out of bed to face the challenge of taking the dog out to do her business in a blizzard. She dressed Sophie in the doggie coat she’d bought to keep her warm and the bandages dry, then sat on the floor with the booties the guy at the pet store had insisted she needed. She had to stifle a giggle when Sophie stepped toward the door and with each step tried to shake off a bootie. “Trust me,” she murmured, “you want to keep your feet warm.” Maddy put on her coat and led Sophie outside on the leash. They both decided the poop spot wasn’t going to happen, so Maddy let her baby do her business under the carport.

  A long, steamy, hot shower later, she trudged downstairs in her snug knit pants and favorite hoodie, Sophie keeping close to Maddy’s heels. Since she was in a baking mood, she indulged the impulse and mixed up a batch of pumpkin muffins with raisins and walnuts. While the aroma of pumpkin spices filled the cabin, she brought in more firewood from the porch to stack next to the fireplace. She couldn’t keep her mind from wandering to Belen and the other women Logan had said were caught up in human trafficking. Despite the tragedy of losing her daughter, Maddy gave a quick prayer of thanks that she’d never had to make the desperate choices those women faced.

  Setting a warm muffin on a plate on the coffee table, and a steaming cup of coffee next to it, Maddy pulled up a thick fleece blanket across her lap. A look from Sophie had her shaking her head. “You are not getting on the couch with me. I love you, but dogs do not get on the furniture.” The human-like sigh from as the dog settled on her bed next to the couch made Maddy laugh. Putting a DVD in the player, she nibbled on her muffin and watched While You Were Sleeping for the hundredth time.

  Sophie’s whine had her blinking open her eyes. Dang, she’d missed the part where Lucy and Jack tried to get the couch through the door of Peter’s apartment. She loved that scene. Sophie whined again. “You sure have to pee a lot. Is this a girl thing?” Sophie assur
ed her it was.

  Under the shelter of the carport, Maddy peered into the storm while Sophie took care of business. Everything was covered in white as far as she could see, which admittedly wasn’t far. She could make out the faint shadows of the closest trees while everything else faded into the mesmerizing fall of snow.

  The afternoon passed without the snow letting up, the dark clouds bringing a premature dusk. Maddy sat curled on the couch, engrossed in a romance novel about a spunky heroine and a rugged cowboy. She couldn’t help it; she loved spunky and she loved cowboys. She paused mid-yawn when the lights flickered. They stayed on for ten seconds more, then went out. Yay. No electricity. She rose from the couch and pulled on her slippers, shuffling into the kitchen in the half light of a blizzardy day. Her range ran on propane, and while it had an electronic ignition, she could light it with a match. She did that, and put the kettle on for tea.

  Sophie followed her, dark ears perked, so Maddy pulled out the bag of dog training treats. “Okay, Sophie, let’s see what you know.” She held up the treat, then pointed to the dog, giving both the verbal and hand signal for “sit.” Sophie planted her butt firmly on the floor.

  “Good dog.” Maddy gave her a treat, then tried the “stay” command. Sophie stayed for perhaps three seconds, then bounded forward. “Okay, we need to work on that one.” She tested Sophie with different commands until the kettle whistled, and was pouring hot water into a mug and enjoying the pleasant aroma of Earl Grey when she heard a thud from the front of the cabin.

  She froze while the dog went on alert, growling low in her throat, hair on the back of her neck standing straight up. Maddy moved to the front room with its big picture window, Sophie staying close to her side. Another thud followed, the sound emanating from the porch. She stood beside the window to peer out. Snow still swirled; in fact, the storm looked like it was getting worse.

  Earlier she’d been able to see the pines at the edge of her property as gray shadows; now they were completely swallowed by white. A movement caught her eye, a dark shape hunched on the porch next to the woodpile, difficult to see because of the angle. A bear? Maddy drew in a sharp breath as it moved and the shaped coalesced into the form of a man covered in snow.

  He pulled himself to his feet, leaning heavily on the rail. The next instant Maddy flew to the door, pulling it open to rush outside. “Logan.”

  Chapter Seven

  The wind blew stinging ice in her face. He gripped the porch rail with both hands. “Logan, what are you doing out here? Come in.” She tugged on his arm and he released the rail, causing her to stumble when he sagged against her. “You’re freezing. Where’s your coat?” Sophie had followed her out. She seemed to recognize Logan, and now ran back into the cabin like Lassie guiding the way to safety.

  Maddy took more of Logan’s weight. Something was wrong. She wrapped an arm around his waist, and with him leaning heavily on her, managed to get him into the cabin.

  Once inside, she kicked the door shut, her goal to get him to the couch. His movements were stiff and disjointed. She pushed and pulled him awkwardly across the room until, in a kind of controlled fall, they both landed on the rug in front of the fireplace. His clothes were wet and crusted with ice that was already soaking through her sweater and melting on the beanie covering his head. She jolted when the hard object she’d felt at his waistband thudded on the floor, firelight reflecting dully off the bluish metal. A gun? Logan carried a gun?

  “Logan,” she cried out. She pushed him off her lap and he sprawled onto the floor. Leaning over, she placed her hands on either side of his face, his skin frighteningly cold to the touch.

  Eyelids fluttered and he struggled to sit up. “Call.”

  “Lie down, Logan. This is as good a place as any. I’ll get you blankets.”

  He sagged back to the floor. “You have to call.”

  “Call who?”

  “Rittenhauer.” His words slurred, barely decipherable. He was cold and she expected chattering teeth and shivering. That he wasn’t was a bad sign that he was suffering from hypothermia and his life was in serious danger.

  “What are you talking about? Who’s Rittenhauer?”

  He gripped her hand with frozen fingers. “My boss. Get a phone. This is important.”

  More to keep him calm than anything else, she jumped to her feet and ran to the land line, a must in the mountains this far from town where cell reception ran from sketchy to nonexistent. She’d call for an ambulance, then whoever Logan wanted her to contact. She picked up the phone and put it to her ear. No dial tone.

  “There’s no phone service, or electricity for that matter.”

  He went limp, sagging back onto the floor, eyelids closing. Dread mounted like a lead weight in her belly. Logan was in trouble, life-threatening trouble, and they were on their own.

  “Okay, I can do this. I’ve got to get him warmed up.” She muttered the words as she threw another log in the fireplace and soon had flames dancing behind the grate. Then, after picking up the gun as delicately as a ticking bomb and setting it on the end table next to the couch, she went down on her knees next to him. Sophie was doing her part. She nosed his hand, then stretched out full length at his side.

  “That’s right, baby, share your body heat. He rescued you, now you rescue him.”

  Logan’s skin looked ashen, his lips blue. Eyelids flickered, like he was struggling to keep them open.

  “Logan, I’m going to get you warm. But with the electricity and phone service out, it’s you, me, and Sophie. We’re on our own.” She left the beanie on to keep the warmth from leaving the top of his head, and went to work on the heavy wool shirt. “Where the heck’s your coat? And your gloves?”

  “Your doors locked?” He spoke carefully, like he needed to make an effort to enunciate.

  “I’ll check them in a minute.” She shifted to unbuttoning the cuffs.

  “Now.”

  “Jeez, Logan.” She ran to the front door and threw the deadbolt, checked the side door to find it already locked. On her knees beside him once again, she worked the buttons in the wet wool.

  “Be careful.”

  She looked up from her task. “Looks to me like you’re the one who should be careful.”

  “Cover blown. Got to call my SAC. Try my cell. It’s in my pocket.”

  “What’s a sack?”

  He spelled out the letters. “Call.”

  “Logan, right at this moment, getting you warm is more important than anything else.” There was a lump under the heavy wool shirt. “What’s this under your shirt?”

  “Call first.”

  “There’s no cell reception here.”

  “Call.”

  Talk about a one-track mind. He seemed to be trying to conserve energy by saying as little as possible. She reached into the pocket of his wet pants and found his phone. Lighting the screen, she showed it to him. “See? No service.”

  He squinted to peer at the phone, then muttered a curse. “There’s a truck. Delivery truck. Got a load of women. Ten-year-old.” He took a deep breath, seeming to gather his energy. “On a forest road somewhere. They’ll freeze.” The effort to speak appeared to exhaust him, his face looking even more pale the more he tried to speak. “Cover’s blown. Fought Lazlo. He’ll try to find me.”

  “You’re not making sense, but nobody’s coming after you in this weather. You’re safe here.”

  “Madison, be careful. Don’t go—” His throat worked as he swallowed, then tried again. “Don’t go outside without my gun. I’ve got to find the truck.” He gave a shuddering breath and closed his eyes.

  “I hear you, but we need to save your life first.”

  He didn’t stir. Should she keep him awake? Concussion victims needed to stay awake. Did the rule apply to hypothermia? She’d finished unbuttoning the wool shirt and tugged and pulled to get it off him. She’d heard somewhere that even when wet, wool worked to keep you warm, so it had been better than nothing, but it sure was hard to get
off a large, unconscious man. She felt what she’d noticed earlier, a hard lump at his side. Pulling open the shirt, she drew in a sharp breath. Another gun, this one in a holster strapped to his shoulder.

  “Jeez, Logan. How many guns do you need?”

  She didn’t expect a response, but now she was starting to get worried about how involved Logan was with the criminal group he’d described. She could only hope he hadn’t taken it on himself to try to protect the girls or go after the ringleaders.

  With the wool shirt off, she sat back and tried to order her thoughts. First thing was to get the wet clothes off, all his wet clothes. Then she had to bring his body temperature back up. She grabbed the fleece blanket off the couch and wrapped it around his shoulders and head while she went to work on his boots. Sophie sat up, ears perked as she watched the show.

  Once the boots were off and set in front of the fire to dry, the pants were relatively easy. Thankfully they were snow pants, and not denim. A dangerous-looking black-handled knife, blade folded closed, fell out of the pocket onto the rug. Of course, if one was going to carry two guns, one needed a knife as well.

  Logan wore long thermal underwear under his pants, and since they felt only slightly damp, she left them on. Her gaze traveled up his long legs. Even with the effects of the cold, she could tell her memory had not expanded, ha, his attributes. The idea of unwrapping the sizable package left her light-headed.

  She moved the blanket to cover his bottom half, and went to work on the straps of the shoulder harness, pulling on the Velcro until she could ease it off his shoulders. Gingerly, she placed the gun with its holster next to the other one on the end table, and the knife next to them. Good to know that she could protect them both if World War III broke out.

  The next layer was a heavy weight Henley. She thought to throw the pants and shirt into the dryer until, oh yeah, no electricity. Shudders were starting to wrack Logan’s body, so she quickly worked off the shirt, and then the damp t-shirt underneath. He’d removed the gauze from the gunshot wound. It looked pale and she thought the cold wasn’t good for healing, but there were no signs of infection. Tucking the blanket around him, she motioned to Sophie. Being the good dog she was, she dropped down to lie against Logan’s side.