Heart of the Wild (7 page)

His voice had gone throaty, his expression weary. He went to the fireplace and checked his wood supply, with total indifference. In minutes he had a roaring fire going and was giving her the cold shoulder.

"No!" she protested, following his every step now, refusing his logic. "You got me up here to see my father. And he's not here. I want to leave now, thank you!

"Enough is enough. Look around you. And that is a full blown blizzard out there."

"He isn't here. And I intend to leave. I saw how capably you handled the Jeep in this weather. You live here. You're used to this. We can go down as easily as we came up. Besides, I've been rather nice, considering."

"Nice? You call biting my hand off, nice?"

"You call kidnapping nice?"

Turning on her, his eyes pinned her, but he tempered his anger. His voice was cold as stone. His eyes bore into her.

"Believe me, I'd like nothing better than to get rid of you. Like I said, this wasn't my idea, bringing you here, but you are here. And if you think I'm getting back out in that, you're crazy. I'm dead tired on my feet, and I'm getting some rest tonight, one way or another."

"Fine, I'll stay at the Inn  until my father arrives. Probably got a late flight, like you said."

"You're not listening. You could, if we could get down. But we can't. The snow plows won't be out until dawn, and not even then, if it doesn't let up. No, I'm afraid you and I are stuck with each other, like it or not. We are not going anywhere, tonight. It's up to your father now."

"C-couldn't we fly out?" Kasie was slowly beginning to see the reality of the situation, and sheer panic drove her to procrastinate.

She couldn't stay here with Amory all night, not with that gorgeous bed staring at her.

"Visibility alone wouldn't permit it. Flying in this weather is pure suicide."

He was so logical, having all the answers she didn't want to hear. All she wanted to do was scream at him, pound on him, something. She walked over to the window instead, and realized there was nothing moving except snow outside, even the animals had better sense than to traipse about. It looked as lonely as she felt. Her hand moved up and down the window frame, keeping time with the falling flakes that had become much bigger since they had left Rosie's general store. It was too early in the year for this kind of storm.

She closed her eyes for a moment, drawing a breath to calm herself. The day had been a nightmare.

Her glance went about the place again. The window must have cost a fortune to install, her mind wandered. Better to think of windows than being trapped with Amory.

But nothing could stop her mind from wandering. Was he rich now? His parents were dead; perhaps they had left a sum of money for him. He didn't look like a rich man. Nor act like one, although Amory was not a material kind of man. He didn't dress like one, either, although his jeans were well cut, and his shirt nicely pressed. Did he iron them himself, or did he have a maid, or maybe even a girlfriend? My, how her mind was taking flight. She didn't care if he had a maid or a girlfriend, she only knew she wanted to leave, and he was preventing her. There was a desperation inside her that even she didn't understand. Or maybe she did, but something kept telling her not to go there.

"Is there anyway Dad can fly in?" she asked, leaning against the window frame and staring at him.

"Not in this weather. And I'm sure you wouldn't want him to try. But stop worrying, he'll be here, sooner or later."

"Lord, I hope so." She moved away, toward the fireplace, to warmth. "But I'm just too tired to worry about it any more tonight." she sighed with total resignation. She shook her head and hugged herself, then moving toward the fireplace, she spread her hands out in front of the fire, basking in the warmth flooding her. She could handle this situation for a short while—if she had to. She'd show him. She had learned a few things in eight years. She was no longer subject to his charms. At least she hoped she wasn't.

She should have put up a bigger fight coming up here. She should be in total panic. She should be screaming at the top of her lungs. She should be doing a lot of things, but what good would it do? Besides, who would hear her up here, in the middle of nowhere? Maybe tomorrow she'd scream. Maybe tomorrow she'd make his life so miserable, he'd be glad to take her home, under any conditions.

"Look, we better get a few things straight right off the bat. I won't do battle with you, Kasie."

She opened her mouth to protest, but he continued.

"You are here, and you're stuck for the time being. There's no dishwasher, no microwave, no TV. Wood has to be chopped daily for the stove and fire. There's no central heat, like I'm sure you're used to. No thermostats. We do have running water, but I use the pump strictly for well water. Drinking water. This isn't a townhouse, and you're not a guest. As long as you are here, you'll do your share of the work. I don't have time to baby-sit a woman."

He sounded rough and almost mad, as though he were at his last straw too. Why should he be mad? He had made her come with him, hadn't he? This was his idea, not hers!

Still, nothing he said bothered her. If he could survive, so could she. She'd show him! That is until one thing hit her, and hit her hard. It was like cold, icy water splashing in a sleepy face. She glanced around the room frantically before her eyes landed on him again. Her eyes got big, wide, and expectant. She felt like a child, not knowing whether to laugh or cry.

All the way up here she had contemplated only one thing. There was only one thing to look forward to, one thing. But where was it?

"Where's the bathroom?" she muttered thickly between gritted teeth.

Despite his suddenly blackened mood, despite the fact that everything was beginning to look bleak, a rumble came from him, until it bubbled into what sounded like a strange, strangled, laugh.

"There's a washtub outside for bathing, if you're wanting a bath. But you'll have to bring it in, fill it with heated water from the stove, and then empty it. As for the other, there's a pot under the bed, with a cover. Personally, I opt for the outhouse out back. But at least you have a choice. There are no walls, but you can pull the curtain around the bed when you need it. I'm sorry, honey, but it's the best I can offer. I haven't finished the place yet. You see, I wasn't expecting company for a while. Especially company like you. Since you're tired, I'd advise you to take a spit bath, and call it a night."

"A what?" she asked, as though he had lit the last fuse, and she was about to blow.

"A quick wash at the sink," he said, with a slight smile to his sober face.

She glanced up at the curtain, hung similar to a bathtub curtain on a rod that circled the entire bed. It was thin material, but at least it was something.

Still, the man had no bathroom, and in such weather, too. Why, one trip to the bathroom, if that's what he called it, would chill her to the bone. She never once expected such primitive conditions, not from a man so well acquainted with John Douglas.

"I see," she said between gritted teeth again. This had to be some kind of test. Or a bad dream. He was standing there waiting for her to scream aloud, or tap her foot again or something. But instead, she just stood there. Every nerve in her body shook. A scream seemed inevitable, yet she controlled it somehow.

"Are there any more surprises? I mean, aside from the fact that I'm stuck up here in the middle of nowhere, with you, with no bathroom, and a very untimely father. A wife or girlfriend, perhaps?"

The smile faded from his handsome face. "No, neither."

She might have laughed, but his expression changed so quickly, she nearly gasp. He looked almost…sad. "Don't tell me. She stole your heart. And left you because she couldn't handle these primitive conditions, I'll bet. Even you should know that a bathroom isn't a luxury any more."

He turned on her again, his eyes narrowing into slits, "There aren't any women in my heart, Kasie. I don't need them. You pointed that out, a few years ago. Anyway, when and if I marry, it'll be for all the right reasons, with the right woman."

His glance slid from her head to her toe, intimately.

"Is there anything else I should know?"

"Well, let's see. There are a couple of things about your father I should mention. He had a by-pass last year, and you've heard about him remarrying, other than that, no."

Her jaw dropped.

He smiled. "Look, I've got some stew and cornbread in the refrigerator. I'll light the stove for you, and you can heat it up while I make a few general repairs. Maybe a little food will put both of us in a better humor. I'll give you plenty of time to wash up and change for bed, so stop fretting."

"I didn't come here to cook for you! Fix it yourself."

Her words hung in the air between them, like a gauntlet. A silence filled the cabin, and then Amory's steel flinted gaze encompassed her. He moved in closer.

"You better get it straight. You're here, like it or not. And we have to eat. Unless you want to be up all night, you'll do the cooking. I'm not a baby-sitter. Around here, the first available person does whatever is necessary. You'll carry your own weight, for as long as you're here. Because, you see, I don't care whose daughter you are, or how rich you are. Got it?"

She opened her mouth to argue, but he merely turned away.

Like talking to a wall, she gestured to the air.

After a long silence she added. "I'm not cooking for you."

"You don't know how?" His head quirked comically.

"Of course I know how, but I'm not cooking for you," she insisted, crossing her arms over her chest and glaring at him.

His frown deepened. "Fine, then you won't eat."

"Fine."

Her stomach rumbled quietly, as though objecting. She ignored the hunger pangs. She wasn't about to cook for him, even if it meant starving. Her stomach rumbled again, she frowned.

What she really wanted to do was curl up in the big feather bed, alone, and forget this entire day.

He stalked from the cabin and didn't return for several minutes. After making a few general repairs on the lean-to, he came inside to warm his supper, and ate in total silence. She grumbled to herself, she didn't need food; she didn't need conversation, either. Besides, the more they talked, the worse things got. A by-pass! Remarried! How many more surprises would there be? Why hadn't her father contacted her?

If she hadn't been kidnapped she might have her cell phone on her. She could call him and talk to him and maybe fly out in the morning.

But the fact that she was miles from nowhere with a man she had once contemplated marrying, soon zeroed in on her like a tidal wave.

He joined her by the fire. This seemed a bit too cozy for comfort. Snowbound with Chay Amory. Chay? She loved his name.

Her mind wandered aimlessly.

Would her mother worry, or would she suspect that Kasie was simply pulling another of her little stunts? Kasie often took off for the unknown when her mother became too controlling. Why couldn't her parents realize how manipulative they had become.

Would anyone come looking for her? Yeah, right—up here in the great nowhere! She frowned again. Her stomach continued to rumble.

"There's some stew left, if you're hungry. Just warm it up."

She had fallen totally silent, and stared hopelessly into the fire.

"I'm not."

"Still just as hardheaded, aren't you?"

"Maybe."

"I don't remember you being this stubborn before, but then my opinions were biased back then."

"You don't have to put on an act, Amory. I know exactly what you thought of me, back then—and now."

The painful memory stabbed at her, as her words tumbled freely out of her mouth.

"Do you? I wonder?" His eyes glittered dangerously into hers.

"I'm really not in the mood to play games. I want some sleep, and that's all," she said quietly.

"I agree. Only I think I better get you a shirt to sleep in. It seems we overlooked the need for those kinds of clothes while shopping at Rosie's. Naturally, we didn't know your father wouldn't be here. In good weather John would fly in and fly you both out the same evening."

"Yeah, in good weather. But no thanks; I'll wear what I have on. I've made it this far, I can stand it a little longer."