The Touch of Fire Read online

  He more than doubled the length of the original shelter. He dragged the water trough into the middle so each horse had equal access to it, then used two saplings as rails to equally divide the space. Annie saw him stop and rub his side occasionally after he had exerted himself, but he looked like he was massaging a sore muscle rather than suffering sharp pain.

  When they had first begun she had assumed it would take them all day, if not part of the next day, to finish the project, but within four hours he was using the original wood to build a door and frame. She filled in the cracks with mud, with him helping finish this final touch, then she stepped back to look at the fruit of their efforts. It was rough and not very appealing, but functional. She hoped the horses appreciated their new quarters.

  She checked the sun after they had washed their hands in the icy stream. “I need to put the beans and rice on to cook now. Those beans didn’t get quite done enough last night.”

  He was sweating despite the cold, and she guessed he would welcome a rest. He had to be feeling the effects of doing hard physical work so soon after being as ill as he had been. He went inside with her and dropped down onto the blankets with a sigh. Within minutes, though, he was frowning as he poked a callused finger into the wide cracks in the floor.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked, looking up from the meal preparations and seeing the scowl.

  “You can feel the cold coming through these cracks.”

  She leaned over and held her hand over the floor. Sure enough, there was a distinct chill. “Why worry about it now? We’ve managed so far, and you can’t put down another floor.”

  “Because it’s gotten colder already, and my guess is it’s going to get worse. We won’t be able to stay warm enough to sleep.” He got to his feet and started toward the door.

  Annie looked at him in surprise. “Where are you going?”

  “To cut some more saplings.”

  He had to go only about ten feet, and she listened to the sound of wood being chopped. He returned shortly with four saplings, two over six feet long and two only about half that length. He made a rectangular frame with them, lashing the ends together. Then he carried in big armloads of pine needles and spread them inside the frame to create a soft, thick barrier between them and the floor. The frame kept the pine needles together. He spread one of the blankets over the frame, then stretched out on his roughly made bed to test its comfort. “Better than the floor,” he announced.

  She wondered what else he intended to do that day. She found out when he insisted on gathering more firewood. “But why do we have to do it now?” she protested.

  “I told you, it’s getting colder. We’ll need the extra firewood.”

  “Why can’t we get it as we need it?”

  “Why make extra trips out into the cold when we can already have the wood at hand?” he retorted.

  She was tired, and getting snappish. “We won’t be here long enough to use all of this.”

  “I’ve been in the mountains before, and I know what I’m talking about. Do as you’re told.”

  She did, but with ill grace. She had worked harder during the past three days than she ever had before, so she wouldn’t have minded resting a bit. Even before she had met him, she had been exhausted from delivering Eda’s baby. And she hadn’t slept well the night before, which was all his fault. She had an even temper and was seldom fretful, but fatigue was eroding her normal good humor.

  Finally they had collected enough firewood to satisfy him, but even then there was no rest. They had to walk up to the clearing to collect the horses. When they reached the clearing it was empty, and Annie’s heart plunged. “They’re gone!”

  “They won’t be far. That’s why I hobbled them.”

  It took him perhaps ten minutes to locate them; they had smelled water and picked their way down to a stream, probably the same one that ran so close by the cabin. The horses’ morning restlessness had been worked off by the day’s leisurely grazing, and they didn’t resist his hand on their halters. Annie took charge of her gelding and silently they led the animals back.

  Even then he wouldn’t let her rest. He wanted to check all of his snares before nightfall, and he made her walk with him. He defied everything she knew about human strength and stamina; he should have been exhausted by noon, but instead he had worked a full day that would have worn out even a healthy man.

  The snares were empty, but he didn’t seem surprised or disappointed. It was twilight as they returned to the cabin, and the failing light combined with Annie’s tiredness to make her stumble a little on a protruding root. She caught herself and wasn’t in any danger of falling, but Rafe’s hand shot out and gripped her upper arm with a strength that startled her into crying out.

  “Are you all right?” He caught her other arm and steadied her in front of him.

  She took a deep breath. “I’m fine. You startled me when you grabbed my arm.”

  “I didn’t want you to fall. If you broke an ankle, you’d find out right quick I’m not as good a doctor as you are.”

  “I’m fine,” she repeated. “Just tired.”

  He didn’t release her, but kept a steadying hand on her arm the rest of the way. She wished he wouldn’t touch her. The touch of that hard, powerful hand was too hot, its warmth too penetrating. It undermined her rational resolve to keep a distance between them. But of course he hadn’t made any such decision, so he wasn’t acknowledging the shield of indifference she kept trying to erect.

  He closed up the cabin for the night while she finished their supper. It was a relief to finally be able to sit down, even if it was on a rough wooden floor with cold air seeping through the cracks. She cooked a slice of bacon and crumbled it in with the beans and rice for flavoring, then added a bit of onion. The tantalizing aroma filled the small room, and Rafe sat forward with an avid glint in his eyes as she spooned it out for him. Annie was so tired that she didn’t eat much, which was just as well, because Rafe finished every bite.

  She still had one thing she wanted to do before she collapsed for the night. After their dishes were cleaned, she picked up the second blanket and looked around, trying to decide how best to arrange it.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Trying to figure out how to hang this blanket.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I want to wash off.”

  “Then do it.”

  “Not in front of you.”

  He gave her a hard look, then without another protest he took the blanket from her hand. He was tall enough to reach the ceiling beams, and easily snagged two corners of the blanket on the rough wood, curtaining off a small section of the room. Annie took the water bucket behind it and removed her blouse. After a moment’s hesitation, she slid the straps of her shift down her arms and let it fall to her waist. Carefully she washed as best she could, keeping a weather eye on the curtain, but he made no move to interrupt her privacy. When she was dressed again she emerged from behind the blanket with a quiet thank-you.

  He took the bucket from her hand. “You might want to go back behind that blanket. I’ve sweated like a horse today, and could use a wash myself.”

  She whisked herself behind the blanket almost without pausing. Rafe’s eyes gleamed as he removed his shirt. The fact that he had worked hard wasn’t the only reason he wanted to wash. Had he been alone he wouldn’t have bothered, but they would be turning in soon, and a woman as dainty about her personal habits as Annie would more likely welcome a man who didn’t stink of sweat. He tossed his dirty shirt aside, then as an afterthought stripped completely naked. Thanks to Annie, he had clean clothes to put on. He squatted by the bucket and washed, then put on clean socks, underwear, and pants, but decided to leave off his shirt.

  He reached up and unhooked the blanket, and in the dim firelight Annie blinked at him like a sleepy owl. He surveyed her sharply and realized that she was almost asleep on her feet. He had been making seduction plans, but in all of them he had counted on her being