The Man from Pine Mountain by Lisa Jackson

Author:Lisa Jackson [Jackson, Lisa]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781488086335
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 1993-11-23T05:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SIX

The storm broke in the early afternoon. Brett eyed the horizon through the window, rubbing at the stubble that covered his chin. “I’m going up to the station,” he said, shoving his hands into the back pockets of his jeans.

“What about me?”

Turning, he surveyed her. “I think you should come with me. If you’re up to it.”

“Of course I’m up to it.”

“That fall was no picnic.”

“Brett, I’m fine. Let’s just go, okay?” She was already stuffing her arms into the sleeves of her jacket, glad for a reason to escape the close confines of the cozy room.

Brett didn’t seem convinced that she would be able to survive the elements, but he, too, dressed in his jacket and pulled up the hood. He placed a few supplies in his pockets, grabbed his rifle and, after ordering her to wait, plowed through the snow to the barn. A few minutes later, he arrived with Flintlock and insisted that Libby ride.

She wanted to argue, but the determination in his eyes persuaded her to swing into the saddle.

Though the snow had stopped falling, the wind was fierce as it blew through the canyon, and before they reached the creek, Libby was chilled to the bone. Flintlock balked at crossing, but Brett yanked insistently on the reins and forded the rushing water at a wide section where the water never climbed past his thighs.

For the first time, Libby had a close look at her Jeep and the gaping hole in the bridge. Icicles hung from the rotted boards, and the broken cables were frozen solid and dangling above the water.

“Not a pretty sight, is it?” Brett asked when he saw her staring at the frigid debris. “The whole thing will have to be replaced if you want access to the camp. ‘Course, there’s not much need, unless you’re planning to reopen the campground or sell the place.”

“I don’t know what I’m going to do,” she replied honestly.

Brett clucked to Flintlock as they began climbing steeply. The trail was covered with unbroken snow, and both man and beast labored as they trudged steadily upward.

“Look, I can walk for a while,” Libby offered, feeling stupidly like a damsel in distress.

“Stay put.”

“But—”

“Just stay on the damned horse. It’s easier for him to carry you than me, and I’m taller, so the snow doesn’t hit me any higher on the leg. Besides, I’m stronger.”

“Is that supposed to put me in my place?” she threw back, and to her surprise, he smiled. It was a slash of white against his dark jaw.

“Yeah. I suppose it is.”

“Well, it doesn’t.”

“Nothin’ much would, Libby. Nothin’ much would.” He laughed, and the sound echoed through the ravines and crevices of the mountains.

Libby knew she should be angry, but she wasn’t. She smothered a smile and eyed the countryside. Branches of pine, fir and mountain hemlock drooped under the weight of heavy loads of snow, and the cathedrallike spires of the Cascade Mountains sliced upward to a winter-blue sky. Her heart ached for a silly moment when she realized how much she had missed this place.

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