Love me till the end

Chapter 9

It didn't surprise Charlie when she glanced up at the loft the next morning that Luke was gone. He was light on his feet, never disturbing her when he was moving about the cabin. Never disturbing her as he snuck away to God knows where. Gone for most of the day only to return at dinnertime scowling and tired. She pulled the covers aside and noticed another blanket had been added to the ever growing pile. Luke must have covered her with it on his way out.

He was certainly a complex man. So determined to remain aloof and unresponsive on the outside, but revealing his softer emotions by doing the unexpected, like making sure she was warm. A cold, indifferent man wouldn't have gone searching for the survivors of a plane crash. Nor would he have covered her with another blanket to fend off the cold. Couldn't Luke see the difference, or was it possible he just didn't want to acknowledge that he cared?

She got to her feet and walked to the window, expecting to see him at his usual morning routine of chopping wood. Except the only thing that greeted Charlie was a one-eyed Mr. Google, his crooked grin looking more like an accusing grimace. Luke was nowhere in sight, and neither was Lady.

With a sigh she returned to the couch, not for the first time wondering how she was going to get through the rest of the winter in such an impossible situation. She was going to go crazy if the last few days were any indication of what the rest of the weeks had in store for her. She led an active life, dividing it equally between family and career. She purposely kept busy because it kept her mind off the past, off things she couldn't change.

Maybe Luke will take me fishing with him one day.

She went back to the sofa, reached for the top quilt and was in the process of folding it when the door opened unexpectedly. Only it wasn't Luke who stepped into the cabin. For a moment Charlie stood there in quiet shock, her eyes widening on the stranger who'd just casually walked into the cabin as if he owned it.

It didn't calm her fears that he looked just as taken aback. He paused in mid stride, his eyes rapidly assessing her. Charlie felt at an immediate disadvantage, especially when he decided to close the door firmly behind him. She suspected the grimace that replaced the serious expression on his face was supposed to be a smile and set her at ease. It didn't work.

"Remington around?"

He looked like a fur trapper straight out of the 1800s with his long hair and heavy fur coat. His craggy tone suited his gruff, overall appearance. "Somewhere," Charlie responded nervously. "Fishing I think." Since the stranger was between her and the door she knew she was trapped. Her only avenue of escape was a window, but she doubted she'd get very far before he caught up to her.

"You belong to him?" His eyes moved over her thoroughly, making Charlie wish she had on a lot more than a pair of Luke's long johns and shirt.

Did she belong to Luke?

She stiffened at the old-fashioned statement, about to remind him what year, no, century they were living in. Then it occurred to her she'd better weigh her options first. The man knew Luke, but knowing his name didn't exactly mean they were friends. The way Charlie figured it she had two choices, tell the truth or lie. She wasn't very good at lying. Yet she was alone with a man she didn't know. He was as big as Luke and looked just as unfriendly.

Charlie didn't like fibbing, but it wouldn't hurt to mislead him into believing she and Luke were more than just cabin buddies. At least until she felt she could trust him. "I'm Luke's girlfriend, Charlie. And you are?" She was thankful he wasn't one of her brothers. They would know immediately that she was lying.

The more he moved further into the room, the more she made sure the sofa remained between them. His shrewd eyes noted the blankets she'd been folding earlier, a clear indication that someone had slept there the night before. If he suspected she wasn't being truthful his expression didn't reveal anything.