Vicki Thompson - Bachelor Father

“I’m sure we will.” Katherine faced forward again as they entered a grove of aspens, their white trunks shiny with rain.

“There it is, through the trees on the right.”

She peered out her window and spotted the clearing between the glistening tree trunks. Behind the clearing rose a hillside covered with pine, and nestled against the hillside was the sweetest little log cabin she’d ever seen. It looked like something out of one of her history books in school, right down to the stone chimney and the small front porch. She almost expected to see a pioneer woman come out of the front door and wipe her hands on her apron as she waited for her visitors to arrive.

“It’s charming,” she said.

“Thank you.” He sounded pleased with her response. He pulled the truck up beside the cabin, shut off the motor and glanced at her. “We can at least have a cup of coffee while we wait for the tow truck.”

“Only if you have decaf. Everything I put in my stomach affects my breast milk, so I have to be careful.”

His gaze warmed for a brief moment before he broke eye contact and cleared his throat. “Sorry. No decaf. Come on. Let’s go in and make that call.”

She strapped Amanda back into the baby sling and grabbed the diaper bag while he unlocked the cabin and came back out with a yellow slicker to hold over the two of them. When he helped her down from the truck, she was glad there was a baby between them. Once his hand closed over hers, she had the craziest urge to move right into his arms. As it was, they were plastered together under the slicker as they dodged puddles on the way to the front porch.

“It’s really coming down,” he said, shaking out the slicker. “Go on in. After I call, I’ll see if I can’t find something you can drink.”

She stepped into the cabin and was greeted with the aroma of fresh-cut wood. The place looked as she had imagined—a single room with rustic furniture including a bed, a rocking chair, a table and two chairs. One corner contained a stove, sink and refrigerator. Another was partitioned off and was undoubtedly the bathroom. The room was neat but had no particular decorating touches, which didn’t surprise her, either. Even without curtains, a tablecloth or a vase of flowers on a windowsill, the effect was still cozy and welcoming.

Zeke came in and closed the door behind him.

“It’s very nice, Zeke.”

“Simple.” He walked over to the large window looking out on to the porch. The stationary center pane was flanked by two screened windows, which he’d left open, but now he closed them against the chill.

“Simplicity has elegance, too,” Katherine said.

His grin was wry. “I wasn’t going for elegance.” He crossed to the wall phone hanging behind the rocker. “Have a seat,” he said, gesturing to the kitchen chairs. “I’ll call the towing company and then see what I have in the cupboard.”

“I don’t really need anything,” Katherine said. It wasn’t quite true. Her stomach was grumbling because she’d been too nervous to eat lunch. But she didn’t want to bother him when she’d be back at the lodge in a couple of hours at the most. She’d eat then.

“Well, I’m going to have something.” He picked up the receiver and started to punch out a number. He paused and clicked the hang-up button a couple of times. Then he clicked it again. Finally he replaced the receiver and turned to her. “Maybe you’d better reconsider having something to eat.”

Anxiety added to the turmoil in her stomach. “What’s wrong?” But she knew exactly what was wrong.

“This storm must be worse than I thought. It’s knocked out the phone. Looks like we’ll be here awhile.”

CHAPTER FOUR

“HOW LONG DO YOU THINK the phone line will be out?” Katherine quickly calculated whether the baby’s needs could be met for the next few hours. She always packed more than enough diapers, and she’d brought an extra terry sleeper. Food was no problem.

Zeke sighed and walked over to peer out the window. “No telling where the lines are down. Out here the telephone can be out quite a while before anyone notices or reports it. It serves mostly vacation cabins, which aren’t used all the time.” He turned toward her with a worried frown. “I should have headed back to the lodge and said to hell with the wheel rim. I’m sorry, Katherine.”

“Don’t worry about it.” To her surprise, she wasn’t sorry at all. If he’d been able to call a tow truck they’d have parted within a couple of hours. Now they had more time. She wasn’t sure if that would change his mind about keeping some connection with Amanda, but it might.

“I could hike out to the road and try to catch a ride back to the lodge.”

“That seems completely unnecessary.” If he left, that would destroy any hope that he’d bond with Amanda.

“You’d be fine. You’d be safe here and there’s plenty of food.”

“I’d still rather you didn’t leave us alone.”

“You won’t get washed away, if that’s what you’re thinking. We’re much higher than the creek.”

She was unwilling to admit why she wanted him to stay, but she could offer him a reason he might accept, one that was also true. “I wasn’t thinking of water, but speaking of that, did I ever tell you how I fell in the river in the first place?”

“I don’t think we got around to that.”

Because we had other things on our minds. She became aware that this one-room cabin put them in close proximity to a bed. Not that she would allow herself to get involved with him in that way again. They’d created enough problems for each other as it was. It was a beautiful bed made of peeled and sanded logs, a big bed, a soft-looking bed, a—”How did you fall in the river?” he prompted.

She blushed and turned her attention away from the bed. She hoped she didn’t have a telltale lustful expression on her face. “I was crossing the river on a log. A pretty fat log, too, so I shouldn’t have had any trouble making it. Then I heard a snuffling noise behind me, looked over my shoulder and saw a bear at the edge of the river.”

“What kind of bear?”

“A big bear.”

He smiled. “I meant the breed.”

“I didn’t stop to ask him his pedigree. I just started scrambling across that log like a squirrel with its tail on fire, only I’m not as sure-footed as a squirrel, and I fell in. As I headed downstream, I thought maybe it wasn’t such a bad escape method, but then I couldn’t stop myself and I kept going under, so I figured I’d probably drown. But at least that was better than being eaten by a bear.”

He chuckled. “Far better.”

“In my opinion.” She liked making him laugh. She’d forgotten that she had that power. He’d told her that not many people got him to relax enough to laugh.

“For the record, I doubt you had much to worry about from that bear,” he said. “He was probably after trout, not magazine editors.”

“Oh, yeah? Maybe it was a grizz.” She took her hands away from Amanda’s sling and lifted them menacingly, curling her fingers into claws.

“A grizz?” He grinned. “Are you trying to speak the lingo, New York lady?”

He’d teased her with that label last summer. As the night had progressed, he’d switched to calling her his New York lady. His use of the term now sent a shiver of reaction up her spine, but she tried to keep her tone light. “I’m trying to tell you that I’d rather not stay in this cabin alone with Amanda when it’s possible a bear could come along and bash down your cabin door.”

“That’s not going to happen.”

“Do you or do you not have bears around here?”

“All right, there is a black bear that hangs around this area.” He stroked his chin and his dark eyes sparkled. “And maybe she’s been up on the porch a couple of times, but—”